Chapter 31 : Chapter 31
Chapter 31: Serial Killing Trap
The night was like a thick curtain soaked through with ink, tightly covering the Wailing Wastes.
Inside the nascent City of Miracles, embers of bonfires flickered in the night wind, stretching the shadows of patrolling guards long and short.
The vast majority of citizens who had labored all day had long since fallen asleep, with only the rise and fall of snoring proving that this land of death was nurturing new life.
Inside the lord's tent, Caesar sat cross-legged, eyes tightly shut.
He had not fallen asleep, but was conducting his daily meditation.
Ever since coming to this place forsaken by the gods, peaceful sleep had become something more luxurious than gold coins.
He was guiding that nascent black-gold Battle Energy within his body, like a tireless young dragon, repairing the muscle damage brought by high-intensity training.
More importantly, during meditation he could amplify his perception to the extreme.
This was not simply hearing or smell, but an instinctive insight from his dragonkin bloodline into the most minute changes in his surroundings.
His consciousness was like an invisible net, enveloping this camp with a diameter of barely one kilometer.
He was like a CEO who had just received angel funding, working through the night reviewing accounts, racking his brains thinking about how to survive the Series A round.
Under his command were thousands of hungry mouths, and whether the next sevenfold amplification should be used on iron ore or that batch of inferior crossbows—every decision was a matter of life and death.
Just as he was weighing the pros and cons, the Battle Energy flowing steadily within his body seemed to catch on an invisible thread of ice, experiencing an extremely subtle stagnation.
Not a cramp.
But a cold, viscous, almost tangible malice, like three venomous snakes hiding in dark grass, simultaneously flicking their tongues at him across a vast distance.
A chill, without warning, exploded from his tailbone and shot up his spine to the crown of his head!
The hair all over his body stood on end with a “whoosh.”
Caesar's eyelids lifted a crack, those deep purple eyes calm as two bottomless ancient wells in the dim lamplight.
He extended a finger, making a silencing gesture toward the three wolf cubs already growling uneasily in the corner.
He pointed toward the direction of Anneliya's tent, whispering a few words to the largest cub.
The cub was extremely intelligent, nodding its head before lowering its body and silently melting into the tent's shadows.
Next, he pointed toward the directions of the granary and water source, issuing separate commands to the other two cubs.
They were his eyes, and also his silent messengers.
The night remained deathly still.
But the overture to slaughter had already played its first note in places he could not see.
……
About three hundred meters from the lord's tent, beside the Well of Life.
This was the lifeblood of the entire camp, a miraculous creation that gushed clear spring water from a hundred meters underground.
To prevent contamination and facilitate access, a massive open-air reservoir had been built beside the wellhead with piled granite.
Four Black Dragon Guard soldiers divided into two groups, guarding the place with bored expressions.
A black shadow three shades lighter than the shadows on the ground, like a tattered cloth blown by wind, slid silently along the ground, finally stopping in a shadow behind the reservoir.
He observed for a moment, confirming the gaps in the guards' patrol pattern.
He pulled from his chest two specially-made bone needles, flicking his fingertips to send two barely visible thin lines quietly slicing through the night sky.
The two guards who had been conversing stiffened simultaneously, unable even to grunt before softly collapsing.
Viper's lips curled into a contemptuous cold smile as his form flickered, appearing like a ghost beside the reservoir.
He unscrewed a black alchemical pouch, about to pour the powder inside into the water.
Suddenly, a roar like thunder on dry land instantly tore through the night's tranquility!
“You bastard!”
A towering figure built like an iron tower, wrapped in momentum like a collapsing mountain, charged straight from a nearby patrol route.
It was Roland, who had finished his meditation and was returning to the barracks!
He should not have heard that subtle sound of bone needles breaking through air, but a black wolf cub that had quietly appeared at his feet, emitting a low growl at a specific frequency, was the highest alert signal he had arranged with Caesar!
His beast-like combat instinct instantly locked onto a fleeting breath of death in the air, as well as the extinguishing of the two guards' life flames!
Roland crossed nearly a hundred meters in three steps!
That door-panel-like greatsword, wrapped in earth-yellow Battle Energy too unreasonable in its vigor, transformed into a deadly stream of light tearing through darkness, angrily cleaving down toward Viper's head!
Viper's pupils instantly contracted to pinpoints!
A Grand Knight?! That exiled, past-his-prime old knight from the intelligence report was a genuine Grand Knight?!
In that split second, he made an immediate decision, abandoning the poisoning and bending his body backward at an angle absolutely impossible for ordinary humans, narrowly dodging this heavy cleave.
“BOOM!”
The sword edge slammed viciously into the hard granite pool rim, sending stone fragments flying, leaving a clear, vicious sword mark over half a foot deep.
Viper's heart turned ice cold. With a flick of his wrist, several poison needles flickering with ghostly blue light shot toward Roland's face like scattered flowers, while his body used the momentum to flip backward. His other hand slapped hard against the ground, and a black sphere exploded, thick black smoke instantly spreading.
Roland didn't even bother to raise an eyelid. His protective Battle Energy erupted with a “buzz,” directly pulverizing the poison needles to dust.
He held his breath, took a step forward, and the massive sword blade directly tore open a gap in the smoke with its wind pressure.
But Viper's figure had already vanished into the darkness, leaving only a trail of iron caltrops scattered on the ground and a faint trace of blood.
He had been wounded by the sword energy and fled.
Roland did not pursue.
He suddenly turned his head, looking toward the other end of the camp—the granary!
Just now, a wildly abnormal firelight, like an evil flower blooming in the night, had shot skyward!
Luring the tiger from the mountain!
Roland instantly understood their trick.
The water source was a feint, meant to draw out himself, the strongest fighter.
The granary was their true target for destruction!
A fury at being played by petty thieves and extreme anxiety for the lord's safety exploded like a volcano in his chest.
“Enemy attack—!!”
He released a roar that resounded throughout the entire camp, his voice infused with Battle Energy, spreading to every corner of the City of Miracles.
“First squad guard the water source! Black Dragon Guard second and third squads, blockade the entire city, form a ring defense and contract toward the lord's tent!”
“No one may approach!”
“Fourth squad, follow me to the granary to fight the fire!”
He roared out a series of clear commands, no longer bothering with the escaped Viper, reversing direction and charging like a maddened giant bear toward where the firelight blazed brightest.
My lord! Your side… you must hold on!
……
In another crude tent, Anneliya had long since been awakened by that sky-piercing enemy attack cry.
She clutched the iris pendant at her chest tightly, her face pale, terrifying memories of her family's destruction surging up again.
Just as she trembled in fear, the tent flap was silently lifted at one corner, and a black wolf cub slipped inside.
It did not approach, only lying quietly at the entrance, a pair of ghostly green eyes vigilantly watching outside, throat emitting an extremely intimidating low growl.
Anneliya froze, then understood.
It was Caesar… he had sent it to protect her?
An indescribable complex emotion surged up, and within her fear was born a strange sense of security.
At the same time, the granary stronghold had already transformed into a hell of blood and fire.
The air was filled with choking smoke and the smell of burning wheat, flames greedily licking at wheat bundles piled like mountains, crackling loudly.
One-eyed Barrett was like a rabid dog trapped in a dead end, covered in blood, his chest heaving violently like a broken bellows.
The battle axe in his hand had already been notched in several places, his palm long since split open, yet he was completely unaware.
Around him, seven or eight brothers who had just been drinking and boasting together now lay as corpses in pools of blood.
Facing him, that assassin with the bronze mask codenamed Ghost was approaching step by step with the gaze of a cat toying with a mouse.
“For trash without even Battle Energy to last ten rounds under my hand, you should feel honored.”
Ghost's voice was hoarse and contemptuous.
“Ptui!”
Barrett spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, that single eye burning with a desperado's madness.
“Fuck… your honor!”
He could not retreat.
Behind him was the entire territory's food supply!
That damned trust that young lord had placed in him!
He even remembered when the wolf cub appeared, urgently growling and gesturing toward the granary's direction.
Even the lord's pet knew to protect food—could he, a living man, be worse than a beast?
He roared, squeezing out the last trace of strength in his body, swinging the battle axe again with a completely suicidal street thug fighting style, sweeping toward Ghost's neck.
“Overestimating yourself.”
Ghost snorted coldly, his short sword tracing a cunning arc, meeting the axe with a “clang” and precisely deflecting it, the sword tip following through.
“SQUELCH!”
The ice-cold blade encountered no resistance, directly piercing through Barrett's left shoulder and pinning him firmly to the granary's wooden pillar behind him.
The piercing pain made Barrett's vision go black, the battle axe clanging to the ground.
“It's over.”
Ghost withdrew the short sword, bringing out a spray of blood, then reversed his grip to stab toward Barrett's heart.
Death's shadow instantly swallowed Barrett.
He widened that single eye, watching the sword tip drawing closer and closer in the firelight, his chaotic life flashing rapidly through his mind.
Until the end, the image froze on that young lord's calm and profound purple eyes.
Eating one's fill… having meat to eat… achieving glory… that wasn't empty promises, that was real!
He had only just gotten his first-class ticket to life!
Unwilling! Extreme unwillingness erupted like a volcano from the depths of his soul!
“ROAR—!!”
Barrett released a roar like a wounded beast protecting its food.
Just before the sword tip could touch his heart, a violent Battle Energy carrying the smell of earth suddenly exploded from within him!
Squire Knight!
The threat of death and an intense will to survive had actually let him forcefully break through his body's shackles at the final moment!
Ghost's eyelid twitched, but he remained disdainful.
A newly awakened Squire Knight could still turn the tables?
However, Barrett hadn't thought about defense or retreat.
With his uninjured right hand, abandoning all techniques and skills, like a true beast, he used his shoulder to ram violently toward Ghost's blade!
“SQUELCH!”
The short sword pierced his body again, this time passing through his right chest!
But in that same instant, Barrett also used this suicidal charge to brutally crash into Ghost's embrace!
In that single eye flashed the mad light of taking someone down with him!
He opened his mouth, using every last bit of strength in his body to bite toward Ghost's throat, now close at hand!
“CRACK!”
A teeth-grinding sound of bone fracturing rang out.
He tasted a mouthful of warm, sweet blood and heard the crisp sound of the other's neck bone shattering.
Ghost's bronze mask slid off, revealing a face twisted with extreme pain and disbelief.
Even at death, he could not have imagined dying in this most humiliating way at the hands of someone he considered “trash.”
Barrett's body slid down the wooden pillar, crashing heavily to the ground.
His single eye gazed at the night sky reddened by firelight, consciousness plummeting rapidly into boundless darkness.
Worth it…
The entire camp had now completely descended into chaos.
And while everyone's attention was drawn to these two battlefields, inside the lord's tent, everything remained tranquil.
A black shadow, like a drop of ink into clear water, silently “seeped” out from the tent's shadows.
His codename was Reaper, commander of this operation and the strongest assassin.
He looked at that back still sitting cross-legged, seemingly deaf to the outside chaos, and beneath his bronze mask his lips curled into a cruel arc.
Luring the tiger from the mountain, attacking from the east while striking from the west.
Now, time to enjoy the final dessert.
He raised those crescent-moon-like short blades in his hands, silently gliding toward that seemingly unguarded neck.
However, just as he was about to succeed, that back suddenly spoke.
“I waited for you for thirty breaths.”
Caesar slowly turned around, those deep purple eyes bright as two burning ghost fires in the dim lamplight, his face showing not a trace of surprise, only a hint of impatience at having his meditation disturbed.
“Your companions, one setting fires, one poisoning, both made more noise than you.”
“As the one appearing for the finale, your efficiency is too low.”