The Captain of this landship sat in his chair, his eyes fixed on the Emperor's Blade standing before him. The moment he laid eyes on the figure, an indescribable terror surged into his heart. That feeling was as if a horrifying, monstrous beast stood before him, opening its savage, sharp teeth with the intent to tear him to pieces and savor his freshness.
He knew this was the other's ability—a power seized from the Demons that could plunge a person into endless fear and derive immense strength from it. Demons were creatures that fed on fear; the more people know of their existence, the stronger they became, and their physical forms are indescribable. On the snowfields, people had even seen Demons whose bodies alone could cover several mountain ranges, dyeing the very earth black.
When their flesh and blood were transplanted into the bodies of the Emperor's Blades, the Blades gained the ability to use fear to strengthen their bodies, though it was only for a short duration and could not be maintained indefinitely. However, relying on this power, three Emperor's Blades could easily ensure that not a single living creature remained on this landship within twenty minutes.
"Commander Ivanov of the Eighth Army landship greets the officer! Our unit is currently conducting a training exercise. May I ask for your instructions!"
Before the Emperor's Blade could speak, the Captain's mind raced, concocting a reasonably logical excuse in a short amount of time. Even though it sounded very much like a fabrication, having an excuse was better than having none at all. As for whether it would work? He'd try it first and see.
"An exercise? Heh, you're quite clever. Honestly escort us to the Second Army's station, and I'll have no interest in making things difficult for you."
Seeing that this fellow had surrendered, the Emperor's Blade did not trouble him further. This person was just a small-time cannonball; killing him held no value. The reason the opposition had sent this man here was essentially to use him as a probe—to see if they could succeed, and even if they didn't, it was no great loss.
As for whether this would trigger resentment among the soldiers? Don't be ridiculous; the Eighth Army was comprised of their people from top to bottom. These men wouldn't even have a place to file a complaint. Those sent here were the ones the nobles looked down upon—soldiers with no background but some measure of conscience. It was better for the nobles if such people died.
This was also why the Emperor's Blade didn't kill him. Furthermore, it wasn't easy for Ursus to train a landship Captain; killing him would be a waste of talent. It was better to send the man and his ship to fight the Demons. That place was a hellscape; if this fellow lacked skill, his name would simply be added to the list of martyrs. But if he truly had ability and came out alive, the possibility of him playing along with those nobles again would be non-existent.
The officer let out a sigh of relief upon seeing that the other didn't intend to kill him. Regarding this operation, he also had grievances he couldn't voice! How could he not know that coming here was a death sentence? But defying orders was also a death sentence—one that would carry a bad reputation and lead to his family being purged. Thus, they had come here with the resolve to die.
But to not be killed was truly wonderful! Even if he faced interrogation after being captured, or ended up scrubbing decks, it would be better than death!
Once the Emperor's Blades boarded the ship, a strange atmosphere developed among the group. Everyone was surprised to find: was this fellow a bit too enthusiastic? In this bizarre atmosphere, the group set off toward the vicinity of Deity Grypherburg. During this return, they all knew that their arrival would certainly cause another massive tremor in the political situation of Ursus.
The sky turned to night in an instant. After everyone in the village had gone back to rest, Patriot walked out of his room alone, his heart filled with complex emotions. With heavy steps, he walked toward the area where the imprisoned Sarkaz were held. At this time, they were staying in a group of very simple, crude tents.
Outside, there were soldiers responsible for maintaining that miraculous barrier, as well as Mudrock and her Sarkaz squad. Although Mudrock's squad appeared somewhat excessively nervous.
In the center, Jeanne was also here, keeping an eye on these fellows, fearing they might pull some stunt or cause more trouble. Especially the Sanguinarch, who had completed his surgery and had passed the period where he needed to concentrate all his energy on recovery. It appeared that even without drinking blood, he would somehow recover a certain amount of mobility within a few days. In such a state, he was also in a condition of extreme bloodlust.
So, even though her Revelations told her there were no problems, a worried Jeanne still chose to watch over them here, just in case. If any unusual movement occurred, Jeanne could organize people to beat them at the first opportunity, ensuring as much as possible that there would be no casualties.
Although Kal'tsit felt Jeanne was overthinking things, causing her to be too worried when performing these tasks and feeling the need to do everything personally, Kal'tsit didn't strictly recommend this approach. A person's energy has limits, and paying too much attention to other things could lead to oversights in important matters. However, this was Jeanne's habit; Kal'tsit only mentioned it once and said no more. Nevertheless, Kal'tsit also came here from time to time tonight to check the situation and ensure they wouldn't try any small tricks.
By this time, it was already the early hours of the morning. Everyone had already changed shifts twice. The soldiers previously on guard had entered their dreams, but Jeanne remained as spirited as ever, without a trace of weariness.
Inside an independent tent, the Confessarrii
Leader looked through a gap in the dilapidated fabric at Jeanne, who sat on high ground surveying the surroundings. This person had been monitoring their every move all day. He hadn't seen this fellow close her eyes for rest even a few times, yet she was still so energetic!
Was this person an iron-man who never tired? After experiencing what he considered a very high-intensity battle, she had not even taken a day of rest before working again without closing her eyes?
"Eh, old gentleman, haven't you rested this late? Why have you come here at this hour?" Jeanne said with some surprise as she saw Patriot walking toward her from a distance.
Jeanne knew Patriot very well; if this old gentleman didn't have any important matters to handle, he would basically go to sleep punctually before 10:00 PM. After midnight, Jeanne had never seen a conscious Patriot outside of his scheduled night patrol times—unless you went to his room, where you'd find he hadn't slept yet.
However, Patriot himself claimed he was a light sleeper and would wake up at any disturbance, saying he stayed awake only because he worried they would be too embarrassed to find him. As for sleeping early, Jeanne expressed her understanding. He was an elderly man, after all; his energy was no longer what it used to be, and it was better to rest more during these peaceful times.
In fact, if Patriot hadn't insisted, Jeanne would have taken over the task of patrolling the village at night herself. It wouldn't affect her much to go without sleep for a period of time; besides, she could find a haystack to nap in during the day when nothing was happening. But Patriot was unwilling; the old gentleman was very firm on certain matters, and he simply would not accept such an arrangement.
But tonight he should have been resting! Why had he come here? To catch up with those he knew?
"Mm. I cannot sleep tonight. I've come to handle some matters. After all, some things still need to be said. It is not right to let them sit there thinking wild thoughts."
Patriot spoke in his low tone, his crimson eyes looking toward the tents inside the barrier, seeming as though he had words he wanted to say to the fellows inside.
"Alright then, I'll go in with you. By the way, do you need privacy for what you want to say to him? If it's inconvenient, I don't have to go in."
Jeanne did not stop Patriot when she heard he intended to go inside; she only planned to walk in with him to ensure the old gentleman's personal safety. But then she thought that Patriot might discuss personal matters and might not want others to hear, so she asked for his opinion.
"No matter. What I have to say does not need to be kept secret. Your presence may even give them more to consider before they attempt anything. Let us go in together!"
Patriot shook his head, not refusing Jeanne's wish to accompany him. The things he was about to say were not secrets that needed to be guarded.