Chapter 3: First Companion (2)
First Comrade (2)
"AAAAAH! My hand! My—!"
Blood spurted across the tavern floor. The severed wrist of the Imperial knight rolled across the gravel, and the scream tore through the ceiling.
"Y-you insane mercenary bastard!"
The two remaining knights from the Royal Central Order drew their swords in shock. Their faces pale, they channeled Sword Qi as if ready to cut me down at any moment.
"You dare lay hands on an envoy of the Empire and a knight of His Highness the Crown Prince?! A bounty will be issued across the entire kingdom—you'll be torn limb from limb!"
The surrounding mercenaries turned ashen, scrambling into corners. Having cut down a Duke's escort, this young mercenary would now be hunted by both the kingdom and the Empire.
But I lowered my bloodied blade and swallowed a laugh.
A bounty? With whose face will they issue it?
Ssshhhk.
From my pocket, the ancient illusion artifact—the Seal of Projection—stolen from Cassian's vault emitted a faint pulse of magic power.
Before even stepping into the tavern, I had already activated the Seal.
What they saw now wasn't the black-haired Caliph. Instead, it was the face of a grizzled mercenary in his late thirties, with a vicious scar running down his cheek—a disposable, forgettable disguise. Even my magic signature was distorted by the Seal's illusion, making me appear as an entirely different person.
No matter how many wanted posters the Royal Central Order or the Empire plastered across the continent, they'd be chasing a ghost that didn't exist.
I knew the terror of this ancient artifact well—after all, in my past life, Cassian had used it to frame me and launder his own identity.
Now, I was wielding it to perfection.
"Hey, you with the missing hand."
"Eeek—!"
I grabbed the collar of the Imperial knight, still trembling on the floor, and yanked him up.
"If you want to live, use that head of yours. Remember what I said?"
"P-please... spare me..."
"I don't care if it's the Crown Prince or some Imperial Duke. Tell them—next time they mess with the Reinhark Knight Commander, I won't stop at a wrist. I'll take their whole damn head."
THUD—!
I slammed him back onto the floor. The other two knights, crushed under the oppressive killing intent of my 3rd-Class magic power, couldn't even raise their swords, trembling like leaves.
There was no reason to hold back. But if I slaughtered them all here, the entire envoy would go on high alert, making it a pain to reach Eleanor.
This was the perfect bait—just enough warning and terror to sow chaos and distraction.
I tossed a few extra coins to the frozen bartender and strode out of the tavern.
"G-get him! Call the guards!"
Behind me, delayed screams erupted—the panicked shouts of the patrons and the sobbing whimpers of the maimed knight. But I had already melted into the shadows of the alleyway, silent as a ghost.
Ssshhhk...
I withdrew the magic power fueling the ancient illusion artifact, the Seal of Projection.
The illusion masking my face and body peeled away, the scar and the grizzled mercenary's visage vanishing in an instant. My true form returned—black hair, the sharp features of a young man in his twenties, and the unmistakable pulse of 3rd-Class magic power.
No matter how many wanted posters they put up, they'll never find me.
The Imperial envoys and the Royal Guard would tear the border city of Krantz apart searching for "a scarred, grizzled outlander mercenary." With dozens of eyewitnesses in the tavern, their investigation was doomed from the start.
Mindless slaughter was the act of a fool. Maintaining my perfect ghost status—unknown, untraceable—meant my blade would strike all the deadlier when the time came.
I retrieved a few gold coins from Cassian's spatial artifact. After purchasing the sturdiest northern warhorse from Krantz's black market, I mounted up without pause.
Clack, clack, clack!
The icy northern wind whipped against my cheeks.
Channeling a trickle of magic power from my dantian to soothe the ache in my shoulders, I raced through the rugged mountain paths.
My destination: Eisen Fortress, the massive border stronghold where the peace treaty signing would take place.
The signing is the day after tomorrow.
Memories from my past life surfaced vividly as I rode.
Eleanor Bernice, Commander of the Reinhark Knights. A woman so foolishly noble and loyal.
Even knowing the Crown Prince's schemes—his envy, his incompetence—she had been prepared to sacrifice herself as a concubine to an Imperial Duke just to spare her knights from being branded "traitors" and executed.
And in the end, that noble sacrifice had bought her nothing. Only the kingdom and Empire's joint betrayal, the annihilation of her order, and the branding iron searing her own face.
"Loyalty? Patriotism? Worthless. The nobility have no tears, no blood—only corpses to offer in return."
I tightened my grip on the reins.
Barging into Eleanor's chambers now and shouting "Your kingdom sold you out, come with me!" would be pointless. Bound by her knightly vows, that stubborn woman would brand me an intruder and draw her sword without hesitation.
Before she could endure the betrayal and burn her own face in despair, I needed to infiltrate Eisen Fortress and seize the ugly truth with my own hands.
The next night, outskirts of Eisen Fortress.
True to its role as the northern border's keystone stronghold, the towering stone walls blazed with torchlight. Elite guards from both the Empire and the kingdom, clad in heavy armor, stood vigilant. Near the gates, layers of magic-detection arrays hummed—enough to deter any rookie mercenary from even approaching.
But in my past life, I'd breached ancient ruins and the headquarters of elite knight orders. A fortress like this was riddled with holes.
Magic detection pulses every 12 seconds. The guards' sightlines leave a 3-second blind spot from the right tower.
Flattened against the wall's shadow, I reactivated the Seal of Projection.
Ssshhhk—
The artifact's illusion magic blended my body's light, shadow, and even body heat seamlessly with the cold stone.
Even with my crude 3rd-Class magic, combining the stealth techniques I'd honed as the Mercenary King with this ancient artifact rendered me invisible.
Thump.
Silently scaling the wall, I landed atop the battlements during the 3-second blind spot. The Imperial knight patrolling nearby merely shrugged off the cold breeze that brushed his cheek, mistaking it for the northern wind.
Inside, I moved swiftly across rooftops.
My target: the innermost sanctum of the Imperial envoy's quarters—Duke Eisen's private office.
Skritch.
Perching lightly on the windowsill, I retrieved an alchemical lockpick from Cassian's vault. With delicate precision, I disrupted the lock's magic circuits. A faint click later, the window slid open.
The office reeked of expensive cigars and cloying perfume. Opulent oak desks, silk curtains, and display cases bearing the Imperial crest filled the room.
I immediately began searching for hidden compartments.
Nobles were the same everywhere. The dirtiest deals always came with signed originals—insurance to hold over each other's heads.
Here.
The eagle crest on the side cabinet's eyes pulsed faintly with magic. Refining my magic into a needle-thin strand, I manipulated the internal gears without triggering the detection array.
Click.
A section of the cabinet slid back, revealing a hidden compartment.
Inside, alongside leather-bound ledgers, lay a stack of documents stamped with a crimson seal.
[Empire-Brünnhilde Kingdom Secret Accord: Regarding the Dissolution and Transfer of the Reinhark Knights]
I skimmed the contents—and with each page, my smirk twisted colder.
"...You filthy dogs."
This was no "political marriage for the kingdom's sake" as Eleanor believed.
The Crown Prince had no intention of stopping at handing her over as a concubine.
[Clause 4: Within three months of Eleanor Bernice's transfer, the Reinhark Knights' 12 core officers remaining in the kingdom are to be discreetly poisoned and purged under suspicion of treason.]
[Clause 5: All Reinhark assets and territories are to be absorbed by the Crown Prince's personal knight order.]
Eleanor had resolved to sacrifice herself to save her knights. But the moment she left, the Crown Prince had already prepared the nooses and poison for them.
"Sacrifice yourself for your comrades?" I pocketed the documents. "That nobility you wanted to protect? Sold out in a single sheet of paper, Eleanor."
The most critical weapon was now mine. On the day of the signing, when that lecherous Duke reached for her—I'd shatter his skull with this proof in hand.
Slipping back into the night, I vanished as silently as I'd come.
The board was set. All that remained was to find Eleanor—walking willingly into despair—and smash the chains around her neck.