The Sound of a Lie
The night was deep. Even though the official meeting had ended, the lights in the Northern Frontline's commander's tent remained lit.
Volkrik Ironside had gathered a few elder knights and key staff officers, seating them around the table. It wasn't a formal assembly. This was an unofficial discussion to coordinate a detailed response to the Orc Great Warrior's proposal for a five-on-five duel.
That was when it happened. The thick leather flap covering the tent entrance was pulled aside. Someone stepped inside.
"Forgive the intrusion at this late hour, Commander."
The one who entered was Karon Hartvalt. He showed no surprise at Volkrik's unofficial meeting. Over the past half year, Volkrik had frequently held such nighttime discussions, so it had become routine.
"What brings you here, young lord?" Volkrik asked without lifting his gaze from the map.
Karon bowed his head respectfully. "It's regarding the duel."
All eyes in the tent turned toward him. With a face set in determination, Karon spoke.
"Among the five warriors who will face the orcs in tomorrow's duel, I request one of those positions for myself."
A heavy silence fell over the tent. The second son of the grand ducal family had just declared he would personally step into a life-or-death duel. Ordinary knights might have praised it as courage and devotion.
But everyone gathered here were veterans who had spent years on the battlefield. None of them were naive enough to be swayed by such words.
Volkrik slowly turned his head to look at Karon. His eyes had grown coldly sunken.
"......"
Karon maintained his smile. "As one who carries the blood of Hartvalt, I cannot step back from a duel like this. I too wish to fight with the family's name on my shoulders."
The words sounded reasonable enough. Family, honor, responsibility. However, Volkrik did not miss the hidden meaning woven between them. It's a lie. But refusing him will be difficult.
This duel was no mere tournament. The fate of the barrier wall and the movements of a twenty-thousand-strong orc army hung in the balance. Unfortunately, Karon's skills were genuine. Volkrik answered in a stiff tone.
"That matter will be discussed at tomorrow's official meeting."
"Understood, Commander."
Karon bowed politely. For now, this is enough. He had shown his willingness to enter the duel in front of the elder knights.
He had also kept Volkrik and the commanders' attention tied to this tent. And the real work began now. Why isn't Kyle here? Still, the fact that Kyle was nowhere to be seen bothered him.
At a similar time, preserved rations were being transported near the base of the northern barrier's gate. Even in a ceasefire, they could not open the gates. Nor could they allow the orcs right up to the walls.
So they lowered sacks of preserved food down the wall using thick ropes and platforms, then had a tiny group of porters push the supplies all the way to the outskirts of the orc camp.
Creeeeak.Clunk. The pulley turned. The sacks of preserved rations on the platform slowly descended into the darkness.
"Lower it slowly!"
"Hold the platform steady!"
One knight was directing the porters. The supplies being lowered were nothing special—dried jerky that had gone tough, old grains, rock-hard preserved rations that even the soldiers disliked.
But to the starving orcs, they were meaningful goods. They also served as bait to keep the creatures from charging the walls in hunger-maddened frenzy before tomorrow's duel.
Among those porters was a single soldier. He wore ordinary winter gear, a bow slung across his back and a dagger at his waist. In a situation where the orcs might go berserk at any moment, carrying minimal armament was not strange. But something else was hidden inside his coat.
A thinly folded secret letter. It was the one Karon had dictated and he had written down himself. I must deliver it without fail.
The soldier gripped the cart handle and clenched his teeth. Just thinking the name Kyle Hartvalt made his heart burn hot with vengeance.
Half a year ago, his younger sister—who had worked as a maid in the Hartvalt main castle—had returned as a cold corpse. Traces of violence covered her body. The steward had called it an accident. But the soldier knew.
There were rumors that the drunk eldest son of the grand duke, Kyle, had raped and killed her. There was no clear evidence, but everyone said the same thing.
That bastard deserves to die…!
As a mere commoner soldier, he had no way to take revenge on the eldest son of the grand ducal family. It was Karon who had reached out to him.
I will lend you my strength.
Karon had listened to his rage and promised that the day he became the successor, he would purge Kyle and avenge his sister. Believing in that single promise, the soldier had followed Karon all the way to the northern frontline. And now he had been given this mission.
I know I'm a disposable pawn. If anything went wrong, Karon would pretend not to know him. He would pin all the blame on him. It doesn't matter. If this secret letter reached the Orc Great Warrior, and if Kyle died in tomorrow's duel… I don't care if I die as a traitor. My only family was already killed by that bastard anyway.
Creeeak. The cart arrived at the outskirts of the orc camp. In the darkness, red eyes gleamed. They were orc warriors. The orcs did not allow humans inside their camp. Neither side trusted the other.
"Stop right there."
They bared their teeth and growled, gripping massive axes and iron maces. The human soldiers also stiffened, hands hovering near their weapons. Both sides radiated killing intent thick enough to draw blood. Yet neither crossed the line of the ceasefire.
"Inspect the supplies," the knight leading the porters said in a low voice.
"Understood. Kruk. We will check."
Several orcs approached and tore open the sacks of preserved food. Tough jerky and old grains spilled out. The orcs' gazes locked onto them. The knight was also tense, watching the orcs' hands and weapons closely.
Now.
The soldier who had been waiting for this moment quietly slipped out of formation. He even silenced the sound of his footsteps in the snow. He pressed his body into the deep shadows behind the supply cart. From his coat he pulled out the secret letter, wrapped it in a small white cloth to make it stand out even in the dark, and tied it firmly behind an arrowhead.
I just need to get it inside the orc camp. There would be an uproar at first. The orcs might get excited thinking it was an arrow. But once they saw the white cloth and the letter, they would understand. Even if the humans noticed, it wouldn't matter. As long as the contents reached the Orc Great Warrior.
Even if I die, as long as it's only me!
The soldier held his breath and drew back the bowstring. At that moment—
"Heh heh, what are you plotting so secretly in the middle of the night?"
A voice mixed with laughter came from behind him. Huk! The soldier's heart sank. He barely suppressed his shock and turned around. A man was standing there. A scar crossing his eye. And above all, the unfocused eyes that proved he was blind. It was Wulfran Gecht.
One of Kyle's subordinates…! The soldier was inwardly horrified. He had never expected to run into one of Kyle's men here. Still, he forced his expression back under control.
"Ah, if I startled you, I'm sorry. I was simply trying to observe the orcs in secret."
He slowly lowered his bow. "To be honest, I was curious what they looked like, so I wanted to catch a glimpse of the inside of their camp."
It was a plausible excuse. A soldier's impulsive curiosity about the enemy. Foolish, perhaps, but not completely unreasonable. And above all, the other man was blind. He couldn't see his expression. He wouldn't notice the white cloth tied to the arrow. Or so the soldier thought.
A faint smile spread across Wulfran's lips. "I see."
His unfocused eyes turned precisely toward the soldier's chest. More accurately, they were concentrating on the sound of his heartbeat. "But it seems your heart is terrible at lying."
"......"
The soldier's face hardened. Wulfran was still smiling gently. "The heartbeat of someone telling a lie is rather noisy, you see. The sound of cold sweat is the same. And there's a slightly different smell coming from the arrow you were trying to hide behind your back."
"W-what…"
The soldier took a step back. That was when another voice rang out from the darkness.
"Good work, Wulfran."
Crunch. Crunch. Footsteps in the snow accompanied the appearance of a man wearing black ice iron armor. Kyle Hartvalt. Leina Garyen and Lumia Aster stood at his sides.
"Y-Young Lord…"
The soldier's lips trembled violently. Kyle looked down at him and let out a short laugh.
"You've been quite busy moving around."
None of this was a coincidence. Wulfran had memorized the footsteps, breathing, and heartbeats of most soldiers and knights coming and going near Karon's camp. Among them, he had noticed one soldier who frequently visited Karon's tent joining the preserved ration transport. He had immediately reported it to Kyle.
Monitoring the negotiation route during the ceasefire could be interpreted as part of the special unit's duties. Using the small-scale special unit operation rights he had received from Valgrim, Kyle had chosen to act first and report later. This was the result.
"Scan."
At Kyle's gesture, Lumia chanted briefly. A magical formula rose from her fingertips. A thin wave of light swept over the soldier's body. A sharp gleam flashed in Lumia's amber eyes.
"My lord," she said with a smile. "There's something strange tied to that arrow."
Lumia flicked her finger. Woooong. Telekinetic magic seized the arrow. It was forcibly yanked from the soldier's hand and sliced through the air.
No!
The soldier reached out in desperation. But it was too late. The arrow settled lightly into Kyle's hand. Kyle untied the white cloth wrapped around it. The folded secret letter inside was revealed.
"No…"
All color drained from the soldier's face. He collapsed onto the snow with a thud. Kyle slowly unfolded the letter.
"Designate Kyle Hartvalt in the duel. Also request the elimination of Wulfran Gecht and Leina Garyen alongside him. The Orc Great Warrior will face Kyle personally. In return, once the new successor takes control of the Hartvalt Grand Duchy, guarantee the orcs' safety, provide food, and open a path for them…"
Kyle read the letter's contents in a voice low enough for only his subordinates to hear. Then he laughed.
"Ha."
It was a sneer. A chilling blood-red glow flickered across his greenish eyes.
"What interesting content."
The corner of Kyle's mouth twisted.