Chapter 560
They sat up, heaving and drenched in sweat, blinking in the dim light of their warrens, the lingering shadows of their terror slowly receding. Meanwhile, the guards on the ramparts, their faces pale with recent fear, blinked rapidly, their gazes sweeping over the empty spaces where phantom figures had danced. They realized, with a profound sense of relief and lingering unease, that nothing had been there at all.
Among the ogres, the tension that had bristled between them evaporated as if by magic. Their raised weapons slowly lowered, and a deep flush of embarrassment spread across their rugged faces. They averted their gazes, unable to meet each other’s eyes, the echoes of their harsh words and suspicions hanging heavy in the air.
It was at this precise moment, cutting through the lingering silence of realization and the murmurs of recovery, that Kaelen’s voice resonated, clear and accurate, in the ears of every soldier, every mage, every ogre, and every ratfolk.
"Listen closely!" Kaelen’s voice boomed, imbued with a magical resonance that carried it across the entire encampment. "You were not imagining things. You were not weak. We have been under a direct, psychic assault from the demons. This land, corrupted by their presence, amplified their vile influence, turning our own minds against us. This was an enemy attack, as real as any blade or claw."
"Stay calm, and don’t fret. The mages have already taken action; the enemy’s attack has come to naught," Kaelen’s voice boomed, attempting to project unwavering confidence. "Just stay calm, keep your guard up, and trust in me and your comrades. The enemy’s goal is to sow division."
As Kaelen spoke, a deep frown creased his face. The atmosphere, which had momentarily cleared, was subtly returning to its previous oppressive state. He glanced towards Gorok and the fifth-tier mages. They, too, wore grim expressions, their brows furrowed as they instinctively began to recast their protective spell.
Clarity washed over the camp once more, but the mages weren’t relieved. Their frowns deepened, a silent understanding passing between them. The attack hadn’t gone away; it was merely pestering. The spell they’d woven, powerful as it was, only offered a fleeting respite, lasting mere minutes before needing to be cast again.
This dire news was relayed back to Kaelen, leaving him in a profound dilemma. He couldn’t tell his army they were facing a situation beyond their immediate control, that their sanity hung by a thread, contingent on constant magical intervention.
Yet, Kaelen didn’t have to say a word. The army felt the truth of their predicament with chilling immediacy. They were caught in a horrifying cycle, a constant oscillation between clarity and muddiness. One moment, they were perfectly fine, minds clear and focused. The next, they found themselves face-to-face with a comrade, eyes bloodshot and veins bulging, on the verge of succumbing to another terrifying hallucination or a fit of rage.