218：The Traitor in the Ranks
"Brother Soren, this visit has truly opened my eyes. It was a profound awakening, and I have gained immeasurably from it!"
Cedric’s face was flushed with excitement, his booming voice easily cutting through the howling wind. "The days ahead are long! Once the war on the frontlines settles, I, Cedric, will return with wagons full of the Duchy's finest ale to visit you once more!"
"Safe travels, General. The gates of Greywater Village will always be open to you."
After the warm farewells...
"Hyah!"
With a crisp crack of her whip, Leona gripped the reins and, alongside Elena, spurred her horse forward. Hooves churned the earth, kicking up clumps of cold, muddy water. Their red and white figures soon plunged straight into the thin mist, disappearing into the heavy magical wards amidst the rhythmic clattering of hooves.
Just before Cedric mounted his own horse, the morning wind churned the thick grey fog.
Adjutant Cullen, serving as Cedric's attendant, respectfully led a towering Imperial warhorse forward. His movements appeared practiced and servile, but upon closer inspection, one could see his downcast eyes darting restlessly. From the corner of his eye, he was greedily scanning Greywater Village's cheval de frise barricades, attempting to forcefully burn the defensive kill-zones into his memory.
At that exact moment, a crisp ding echoed deep within Soren's mind.
[Warning! Talents 'Judge of Character' and 'Danger Perception' Triggered!]
[Target Identified: Adjutant Cullen of the Ironpeak Duchy.]
[Psychological State Scan: A complex intertwining of greed, trepidation, and concealed murderous intent.]
[System Conclusion: The target exhibits a severe propensity for betrayal. It is highly probable he is already funneling interests to hostile factions. The Host is advised to maintain maximum vigilance.]
Soren stared straight ahead, his brows knitting slightly.
Relying on the elite intuition forged on the bleeding edge of life and death as a former special forces operator, combined with the supernatural visual acuity of his [Eagle-Eye Perception], Soren covertly scrutinized Cullen.
Under the drastic deceleration of a mental bullet-time, everything was completely exposed to Soren: the cold sweat beading on Cullen's temples, the microscopic stiffness in his grip on the reins, and the deliberately suppressed, erratic rhythm of his breathing.
This was a man haunted by his own guilt. A man ready to sell his soul at a moment's notice.
"General Cedric," Soren suddenly spoke up, his tone gravely serious.
He strode forward and firmly clamped his hand over the back of Cedric's hand just as the General reached for the saddle. Smiling faintly, Soren said, "The paths of the Misty Swamp are treacherous. Before we part ways, I suddenly recalled a highly classified matter regarding the frontline defenses. Could I have a word in private?"
Cedric was slightly taken aback. Though confusion was written plainly on his face, out of his profound respect for Soren's tactical genius established over the past few days, he immediately released his grip.
He followed Soren behind a massive rock formation near the dormant volcanic crater, a dozen meters away from the rest of the group. Surrounded only by the howling, freezing wind, no one could eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Brother Soren, what's wrong? You look dead serious." The seasoned lines on Cedric's face tightened, replaced by a long-absent, murderous gravity. Having commanded troops for years, he keenly detected the severe anomaly in Soren's tone.
Soren didn't answer immediately. Instead, he peered past the rock, locking his gaze onto Adjutant Cullen in the distance, who was currently pretending to casually inspect his horse's tack.
"General, these words might overstep the bounds of our brief acquaintance, but as a brother-in-arms who stands with you against the Orcs, I cannot stay silent."
Soren retracted his gaze and spoke bluntly. "Over the past few days, your Adjutant, Cullen... he has been paying an inordinate amount of attention to Greywater Village's outer defensive arrays and shift-rotation schedules. Far more than he should."
Cedric's brows instantly knotted together tightly.
Facing the Commander of the Ironpeak Duchy, Soren offered a veiled warning. "In times like these, whether in the Silvermoon Kingdom or the Ironpeak Duchy, there is no shortage of officers corrupted by coin and power."
"The political winds outside the Misty Swamp are unpredictable. The Shadow Priests of the Orc Alliance have always excelled at manipulating hearts and buying loyalties. You need to be wary of your subordinate. He appears to harbor intentions of selling out his master."
The moment the words left Soren's mouth, a dead silence fell between them.
Cedric's eyes widened violently. Then, an instinctive wave of disbelief and slight resistance surfaced on his face.
"Brother Soren... this... this accusation is incredibly severe."
Cedric took a deep breath, his hand subconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword at his waist. His tone was heavily defensive. "Cullen has been with me for eight solid years! Whether we were striking the barbarians in the North or suppressing rebellions in the South, he has been in my command tent, drafting my orders!"
"Three years ago in Bloodwind Valley, I even took a stray arrow for him! He is a loyal veteran. How could he possibly betray the human faction to align with those blood-drinking, flesh-eating Orcs?" Cedric shook his head, clearly finding this completely baseless accusation impossible to swallow.
Relying on his hyper-awareness, Soren instantly captured the true thoughts running through Cedric's mind.
The Commander was an orthodox knight by training. While he profoundly respected Soren's military genius, emotionally, he absolutely refused to believe his veteran subordinate could be a traitor—especially one he had bled beside. In Cedric's eyes, this was likely a symptom of some extreme paranoia Soren had developed from surviving far too long in this deadly swamp.
Realizing this, Soren immediately knew when to fold his cards.
"Perhaps I've just spent too much time living amongst corpses. My nerves are strung too tight." Soren chuckled easily, taking a half-step back and clapping Cedric on his pauldron.
"Since he is a brother-in-arms who has followed you through life and death for years, then I've simply overthought it. However, it never hurts to be cautious. Once you return to the Duchy, it would be best if you handle all critical military deployments personally."
"I understand. I know your warning comes from a good place, Brother Soren. I will keep it in mind." Cedric's expression softened, and he nodded heavily.
The two walked back to the main group shoulder-to-shoulder.
"Move out!" Cedric issued the command.
Accompanied by the neighing of horses, the small detachment from the Ironpeak Duchy followed in the tracks of Leona and Elena. They rode further and further away, soon vanishing entirely into the churning grey miasma.
Soren stood beneath the watchtower at the edge of the camp, his hands clasped behind his back, letting the freezing mist dampen his dark hair. His eyes were locked onto a specific retreating silhouette—Adjutant Cullen's slightly hunched, suspiciously shifty figure.
Doesn't believe it? No evidence?
Soren let out a cold sneer.
As a supreme commander who had clawed his way out of the brutal battlefields of modern special forces in his past life, he knew all too well just how utterly fragile human nature truly was.
He didn't blame Cedric for his blind trust. But he, Soren, absolutely would not leave behind a single ticking time bomb that could threaten his defensive lines!
'Since you can't bring yourself to do it, Cedric, then I have no reason to force the issue,' Soren calculated coldly in his mind, a ruthless raiding plan already taking shape.
"Meyer!" Soren called out in a low bark.
"My Lord! Your most loyal Intelligence Officer, reporting for duty!"
From a pit of rotting mud right next to the path, Meyer instantly deactivated his active camouflage, splashing out and respectfully dropping to one knee.
Soren pointed in the exact direction the hoofprints had disappeared.
"In a few days, find a way to infiltrate the outskirts of the Ironpeak Duchy's garrison. Dig up absolutely everything you can on that Adjutant named Cullen."
"Keep a hawk's eye on him. See if he's making covert contact with Orc Alliance scouts, or if he's secretly mobilizing large shipments of military supplies."
Soren's logic was terrifyingly clear. This was going to be a perfectly justified case of 'robbing the robber'.
If Cullen had truly turned coat, he would inevitably seek an opportunity to funnel intel to the Orcs or sell out the Duchy's military supplies for personal gain.
And once that was confirmed?
Soren could deploy his Wolf Cavalry battalion, ambush them halfway, and legitimately butcher the human traitor. And while executing the traitor... that entire shipment of supplies—which could include the Ironpeak Duchy's master-crafted spears, heavy ballistas, and massive caches of winter grain—would naturally become "ownerless" property.
'Under the banner of eliminating a traitor, we conveniently confiscate a massive batch of the Duchy's premium military gear. For Greywater Village, which is currently undergoing rapid, explosive expansion, this is an absolute godsend,' Soren mused, mapping out the subsequent steps.
Having dealt with this lurking crisis, Soren turned around. He vigorously rubbed his freezing, stiff hands together and climbed the creaking wooden stairs back up to his command cabin.
Pushing the door open, the baking warmth radiating from the geothermal fire-vein instantly banished the biting chill from his bones.
Soren untied his damp cloak, tossing it casually over the back of the door, and walked over to his massive, solid wood desk.
Spread across the table was a wide tactical map drawn on coarse parchment. It was densely marked with different colored charcoals, detailing the distribution of every major faction within the Misty Swamp.
The blood-red wolf's head of the Orc Alliance, the silver crescent of the Silvermoon Kingdom, the golden blade of the Holy Halycon Empire... and sitting right in the core of it all, the black longsword representing Greywater Village.
Staring deeply into that map, Soren's thoughts gradually drifted away.
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/cw/Smiling123