Chapter 46: As Planned
The skeletal figure pulled its sword from the soldier’s back and pushed him to the ground, then clicked its teeth together with clear malice.
When Darnell surprised everyone with his deadly sneak attack, Sollivan took advantage of the chaos to reassemble the skeletal body and ambush the nearest soldier. Fortunately, he faced no problems—no one noticed him because they were all completely focused on Darnell, fearing his strength while forgetting about the "weak" skeleton.
Sven’s eyebrows furrowed, and his hand trembled with fear. He could no longer maintain his composure. He looked around anxiously, his mind racing for a useful idea. His overconfidence and arrogance were fading, leaving only doubt and dread. Given the current situation, he was no longer certain of victory.
Hurriedly, he signaled to his remaining soldiers and ordered with forced sternness, trying to hide his panic "Gather up"
All the soldiers surrounded him, including the two guarding the lighting control lever. They formed a defensive circle, protecting each other’s backs. Involuntarily, they all glanced toward the gate, shooting Sven looks of displeasure.
Sollivan quietly observed them through Noctis’ eyes, noting every shift in their expressions. He realized fear had taken hold of their hearts—yet they remained hesitant, unwilling to flee.
"Tsk" Sollivan frowned in irritation and cursed inwardly ’Why won’t they run’ He had reached his limit long ago, and his nerves were boiling with anger. He feared he might start making fatal mistakes if he didn’t end this quickly.
He calmed himself and quietly gave Noctis new orders before severing their connection. Opening his eyes, he turned to Devlin, who was curled up beside him, and whispered softly while pulling matches from his pocket
"Devlin, get up. I need your help"
Devlin lifted his head and stared at his master’s eyes—and the small, unusual smile on his face. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what his master wanted from him after all this. In truth, he no longer cared to understand. All he truly wanted was to go home. Slowly, he stood up, his body heavy with bruises, and blankly stared at the matches—his expression unreadable, contrary to his usual self.
Sollivan didn’t miss the changes in him. He noticed Devlin’s difference but didn’t offer any words of comfort—not because his heart was cold, but because he felt guilty and decided now wasn’t the time for such talks.
With a heavy heart, he sighed and said "Carry the barrel and throw it toward the gate when I tell you"