Chapter Thirty-Two: The Choir of Saints’ Actions (Part II)
The towering city walls slipped into the distance, and in a hazy daze, the Squad Leader was dragged through the snow. Before long, he fainted.
When he woke up again, darkness surrounded him. Someone was gently slapping his face, cold wind rushed into his ears, and he could hear vague words: “Wake… hey, wake up…”
Besides that, there were muffled groans nearby, as if someone was in extreme pain, mouths sealed, trying to scream but unable to make a sound.
The Squad Leader slowly opened his eyes.
“Oh, he’s awake, he’s awake.”
“Hey! Now that you’re awake, I’m washing my hands of this. The next part is your responsibility—”
An indistinct silhouette quickly got up and left, muttering curses: “d*mn it, what the hell are you doing…”
The Squad Leader shook his foggy head vigorously. A couple of seconds later, he realized that the one who had just woken him up was the mysterious woman with the messy hair. Her voice echoed loudly, making it sound like they were in a cave or something.
The man took a moment to process things again and came to the sobering realization that he had been captured.
His hands and feet were tightly bound…
The surroundings were pitch dark, with only a faint moonlight sneaking through cracks above. The Squad Leader leaned against the damp, cold stone wall and struggled to twist his body. After a few attempts, he found escaping was a joke. “Ha,” he chuckled, and then gave up.
“You go outside, up on the hill, keep watch…”
He turned his head and saw shadows flickering in the dark. Clear voices could be heard from that direction: “Those corpses could be discovered at any moment; the snow can’t hide the evidence. Sooner or later, they’ll stumble upon this place.”
“Oh, so your bug brain actually gets it!”
“I thought you assumed the Northern Army was like you, a bunch of clueless dogs. If they do find us, how much chance do you think we have of escaping? I told you already—wow, what a mess…”
“Tsk tsk, isn’t this the classic tactic of the Underground Prison? By the way, when did you learn this trick? I wasn’t informed…”
“……”
In a daze, the cloaked woman seemed to walk away, followed closely by the sound of something heavy being dragged.
The Squad Leader caught a whiff of a strong metallic scent of bl**d, and his heart jolted. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw a bloody corpse being dragged by the cloaked man, slowly coming into view.
That was…
A feeble moonlight fell, allowing the man to see the leather armor on the corpse, exactly like the one he wore, but it was already soaked in dark red bl**d, leaving a stark red trail on the icy ground.
The Cloaked Man unceremoniously dropped the body right at the Squad Leader’s feet. He could vaguely make out the face, which was bloodied and unrecognizable, riddled with cuts and slashes; its eyes were tightly shut, even the nose was gone. Strangely enough, all the wounds seemed oddly healed.
The Squad Leader froze for a second, then remembered what they had said before he passed out, and glanced down at the corpse’s bl**d-stained golden hair, finally recognizing it was the youngest soldier he had brought along.
He’s dead…
No, he’s still alive.
The “corpse” lay on the ground, barely holding on, and the Squad Leader couldn’t bear to see the more gruesome wounds; he could only see that the chest was indeed still faintly rising and falling.
“I… d*mn it… Grandpa’s…”
“Cough, cough—”
The Squad Leader felt a surge of rage in his chest; his throat was hurt, and his voice came out rough and unpleasant. A cough made him feel like his throat was on fire, and after choking a couple of times, he noticed the Cloaked Man wasn’t bothered by his angry outbursts and casually squatted down in front of him.
In the dim light, the Squad Leader couldn’t see the man’s face, only a pair of orange-yellow eyes glaring at him coldly and indifferently.
“Awake, huh?”
The Cloaked Man said casually, taking a moment to think, then pointed at the half-dead young soldier on the ground. “You can tell, right? Before you woke up, I had a brief chat with him. Though it was a bit rocky, I think I got the answers I wanted…”
He paused.
“Now, I’ll need you to confirm something: Are your superiors, Commander of the Fourth Knights Order Selamus and Archbishop Ansiel, captives, or are they dead?”
The hand over his mouth loosened.
The Squad Leader gasped for air.
“We’re in a cave outside the city, in the snowy plains. I’m not worried about you shouting; no one will hear, and I assure you no one will eavesdrop on our conversation… huh? Just relax, if you want your men to live, we can have a nice chat. You’re just a soldier; there’s no need for theatrics. If it’s possible, I honestly don’t want to do this; you and I have no grudge, so I’d rather not k*ll you, nor do you want your men to d*e here… right? He looks pretty young…”
“Pah—”
Before he could finish, the Squad Leader sneered and spat bl**d on the Cloaked Man’s face.
The Cloaked Man easily dodged it.
“Please don’t treat me like this.”
He said, calmly unsheathing a short sword from behind his waist, his eyes unblinking as he drove it into the Squad Leader’s thigh.
The blade pierced flesh and bone, while another hand swiftly covered the Squad Leader’s mouth. His eyes widened in shock, his body quaked, and he let out gasping sounds from his chest, veins popping in his neck.
“So, let’s get started. First question…”
As his head throbbed with pain, he heard the Cloaked Man’s dull, calm voice, void of any emotion: “Where are the Commander of the Fourth Knights Order Selamus and Archbishop Ansiel? Are they captured, or are they dead?”
The hand over his mouth released.
The Squad Leader gasped heavily.
“We’re in a snow-covered cave outside the city. I’m not concerned if you shout; no one would hear you. I guarantee that no one will overhear us… huh? Relax; if you want your people to stay alive, just have a good chat with me. You’re just a soldier; there’s no need for this. If possible, I really don’t want to go through with this.”
“…Alive?”
The Squad Leader chuckled, trying his best to withstand the pain shooting through his thigh and nodded towards the young soldier at his feet: “Can he even be saved…?”
“Absolutely.”
The Cloaked Man nodded, swiftly yanking the short sword out, now tainted with dark red bl**d. The pain made the Squad Leader want to scream again, but suddenly, there was a golden light in the darkness. Green specks flickered in his vision as the Cloaked Man raised his hand. All those light points rushed into the wound, bringing a warm, slightly tingling sensation to his leg. The bleeding stopped instantly, and the pain vanished.
d*mn…
It’s the Church!
The Squad Leader finally understood the identity of his captor.
Before this, he had thought these two were strongmen sent by the temporary city to gather intel… but the reality was far more complicated; the Holy City’s revenge had arrived much quicker than he anticipated.
He had to get the word to His Majesty Skarlij…
“Ha! Hahaha—”
The Squad Leader chuckled to himself: “Even if… you can save him… what about my other men…?”
“Don’t worry, as long as you cooperate, they’ll all stay alive.” The Cloaked Man said.
The Squad Leader’s smile grew wider: “You really think… I’m an idiot?”
When he woke up, he heard these two discussing how ‘the bodies will soon be found.’ Those corpses were probably his men: “The Northern Army… His Majesty Skarlij won’t let you off…”
“That’s not for you to worry about. Right now, all you need to consider is whether to save your subordinate’s life.”
The Squad Leader stared at him for a moment, then sneered: “Church’s lackey, no matter how many come, you all won’t return… heh heh… ahhhh—”
The Cloaked Man’s sword stabbed again, right in the same spot, causing the Squad Leader to finally let out a strained scream.
