When Dunmel opened his eyes again, he was lying in bed, looking up at the white ceiling.
“Are you awake? Your complexion looks better. Do you recognize me?”
She was Hedi, a teacher from Kainswick and a close friend of Flora. She also served as the doctor in charge of everyone at the field hospital in Nonsearch. Though they had never spoken, Dunmel had seen her face often.
Sitting cross-legged and smiling brightly, Hedi said,
“I thought you might be curious, so let me tell you that you fainted yesterday afternoon and have been asleep for a full day. It’s morning now. At dawn, Master Dethain left for Aranthia following the decision of Lutiano, heading along the mountain to bring back reinforcements. Do you remember?”
She placed a pen and paper on Dunmel’s lap and sat close by.
“It seems like you have something you want to ask.”
Dunmel’s hand shook as he moved the pen.
— Why did I faint?
“You were poisoned by a Moze. It seems you didn’t notice because the scratch was minor? Master Dethain should have warned you more sternly about the Moze’s poison. In your case, the poison entered deeply because it was a mild poisoning, slowly depleting your strength without your knowledge. You managed to hold on because you’re unusually healthy, but then you suddenly fainted! That’s what happened. Did you apply the medicine we prepared too late?”
Hedi handed him three packets of white powder medicine wrapped in leaves.
“Take one of these each day. Normally, you should rest in bed for a week, but given the circumstances, that might be difficult. You should recover faster than most people.”
— Thank you.
Hedi grasped Dunmel’s hand briefly before standing up from the bed.
“Oh, and…”
Suddenly remembering something, Hedi started speaking again.
“Flora has been talking a lot about you. She always undervalues herself. She even said that she thinks she has come to like you, but loving someone of such noble status is a sin, so she must be content just watching from afar.”
Dunmel couldn’t laugh as usual; instead, he felt like he was about to cry.
“She can’t even imagine herself as a sorcerer, whom ordinary people of Acrand look up to. Or maybe she couldn’t sort out her feelings because she’s still thinking about her former boyfriend who died because of her.”
Hedi said with a smile, but tears welled up in her eyes.
“I’m sorry to bring up the sorrow of losing Flora, but I felt I had to tell you.”
Dunmel wrote briefly on the paper with a pen that was running out of ink.
— I’m sorry.
Hedi didn’t understand why he was apologizing.
☆ ☆ ☆
Soldiers, taking turns on guard duty around the defense line, stood in a line, their faces showing fatigue and a sense of defeat, not knowing what to do next. The masters of Lutia were thoughtful and cautious, but this caution had prevented them from taking any action while Dunmel was unconscious.
As Dunmel appeared next to Larvitten Bridge, Master Luder approached him, expressing his worry. However, Dunmel passed by the sorcerer without a word.
With his still recovering foot, Dunmel began to cross Larvitten Bridge. Luder and the soldiers might be shocked, but Dunmel didn’t care. Upon reaching the end of the bridge, he started marking the presence of Mozes on the mental map he had envisioned.
He ran towards the voids where Mozes were absent and jumped onto a roof before they could notice him.
For a moment, without making a sound, he lay prone on the roof. There were no Mozes that had spotted him. Had there been any, some action would have ensued, but nothing happened.
Dunmel only poked his head out from the roof to observe what the Mozes were up to. Were they preparing some evil scheme or getting ready for battle? However, the creatures were doing nothing.
‘They’re loafing around.’
It wasn’t exactly the right word to describe the vicious faces of the creatures, but no other term came to mind. They weren’t preparing for a counterattack from the Nonsearch side nor were they getting ready to cross the river and attack.
Dunmel felt a fire boiling inside him.
According to Ettley’s map, the number of monsters had refilled to two thousand and was increasing. Dunmel felt an urge to kill off the Mozes, one by one, who were off their guard, to deplete the number back down to two thousand. However, he couldn’t provoke them now that the vigilantes had the chance to recover due to the Mozes not attacking.
Dunmel moved silently from roof to roof, heading towards the eastern edge of Downsearch. The fortresses that the young men of the vigilante group had painfully erected over several months were now merely shells of their former selves. Most of the Mozes were gathered around the outer fortress of Downsearch. The ones here were no different in their actions from those towards Nonsearch village.
A few Mozes carrying a large tree were entering the village. It was a log with its branches cut off. Noticing this, Dunmel saw several logs in the clearing near the fortress. Such large trees must have been cut from the forests of Outsearch. Some Mozes were climbing onto the logs, chopping off the remaining branches with axes. Amidst mostly loafing around, the only task they were undertaking was preparing the logs.
‘What are they doing?’
Dunmel watched their work for a moment and then looked for any captives. He had expected to find humans among the Mozes, but he couldn’t feel any human presence. Whether they had already been killed and disposed of or were being held elsewhere was unclear.
Dunmel couldn’t tell which possibility he preferred.
‘!’
Something black suddenly appeared, blocking Dunmel’s view on the roof. It was the Venon. Dunmel immediately stepped back several paces and drew his blade. On top of the Venon was a knight in a black robe, holding a spear made of iron in his hand.
The spear, with a blade long enough to slash, was two feet in length.
‘Kagua.’
Recalling, Dunmel realized that this figure hadn’t appeared on Ettley’s map. Were they marked with the same red dot as the Mozes? Or were they a different color, and he had missed them? Had they been just outside the range every time he checked the map?
Dunmel lowered his stance.
Then, another presence was on the roof of the neighboring house. It was Kagua, wearing the same attire, wielding the same weapon, and riding the same type of Venon. They were not alone. And these two were not the ones who had led the Mozes in the first attack.
‘Then three? Or are there more?’
Dunmel looked back and forth between them. They signaled each other. Dunmel couldn’t make out their faces, obscured by robes and helmets, to understand what they were saying. The one on the other roof lightly leaped, landing on the roof where Dunmel was.
Without hesitation, Dunmel turned and ran towards the roofs leading to the tower, with the Kaguas immediately following him.
Dunmel swung his blade, timing his turns to match the speed of those following him. A spear thrust from behind had already come dangerously close to his nose. As the spear and blade collided, Dunmel slid down the rain-soaked roof and fell to the ground below.
Just before hitting the ground, Dunmel twisted his body and landed softly.
The nearby Mozes spotted Dunmel, startled, and took a stance to attack. He had no time to deal with them.
Ignoring the Mozes, Dunmel ran towards the bridge. A Kagua pursued and stabbed at his back with a spear. Dunmel rolled to the side to avoid the attack. Dodging another spear thrust from the right, Dunmel leaped, grabbed onto the Venon’s mane, and clung to its side.
The Venon, trying to shake off Dunmel, ran up the wall and then leaped into the air. Dunmel, holding onto the fur, swung his blade at the Kagua riding Venon. The Kagua extended its arm to block with a dagger. A sharp pain shot through Dunmel’s palm. Before the Venon landed, Dunmel kicked the Kagua’s side and landed back on the roof.
Suddenly, another Kagua approached from the side and swung its spear. Dunmel didn’t dodge but swung his dagger towards the attacker’s face. The Kagua ducked. Both their attacks missed, and they passed each other, falling from the roof.
Upon landing, Dunmel pressed his back against the wall and sensed where the opponents were. He felt the presence of the Kaguas closing in from two directions. In reverse, this meant the Kaguas knew where Dunmel was without having to see him.
‘How do they know? Both at the same time.’
Facing opponents of such skill in armor with his strength not yet fully recovered was too much. Moreover, his blade was badly damaged.
As Dunmel climbed back onto the roof, sticking to the wall, both Kaguas somehow discerned his location and followed him up. The two Venons ridden by the Kaguas sniffed around, eyeing Dunmel.
‘They’re figuring out my location.’
There was no wind, and the sun-heated roof was as hot as a frying pan. Sweat dangled from Dunmel’s eyebrows.
‘Won’t they feel hot? Wearing such armor? Hard to say.’
Dunmel lowered his stance so one hand touched the ground and dashed forward. Simultaneously, the two Venons carrying Kaguas charged at Dunmel. The spears of the two black knights crossed, attempting to stab him. Dunmel rolled on the ground, swinging his daggers to both sides. One of the spears grazed his neck and embedded into the roof, while only one of his swung daggers felt like it made a cut.
If it hit as intended, it would have struck one of the Venon’s legs. Dunmel had aimed not to confront the two Kaguas directly but to target the legs of the beasts they rode from the start.
Without looking back, Dunmel jumped off the roof and ran straight to the bridge. After running for a while and looking back, it seemed his strategy had worked. Although the attack was successful on only one, neither followed.
Dunmel, with his hand on his bleeding neck, returned to the bridge. Luder rushed over and applied a bandage to stop the bleeding. Soon, Hedi arrived to help with the medical treatment.
“What in the world was that?”
“Didn’t I tell you to rest for a day?”
Both immediately scolded Dunmel upon seeing him. But soon, they changed their question.
“Were there any prisoners?”
Dunmel shook his head.
As Dunmel crossed the bridge, many soldiers and sorcerers who had come with expectations turned away in disappointment. Luder also patted his shoulder before turning to leave but then plucked a fur stuck to him.
“What is this fur?”
Dunmel examined the fur that had stuck to his hand when he had grabbed the Venon’s mane earlier. Although he couldn’t communicate through notes or sign language, explaining the situation didn’t take long.
“This is from that black-furred Venon?”
Luder was astonished. Flora had once explained that Venons only had white and gray fur. Thus, a Venon with black fur, as ridden by the Kaguas, was considered an anomaly in itself. However, upon inspecting the fur in hand, it turned out not to be genuinely black.
About an inch of the fur’s root was white.
“Was the fur dyed?”
Luder asked excitedly.
“Do you remember? Those creatures weren’t even fazed by my magical flames!”
Luder carefully removed the fur stuck to Dunmel’s hand and body and ran towards the tower.
☆ ☆ ☆
“It’s as Luder has speculated.”
Golbein explained, focusing on a few strands of Venon fur laid out on a white paper.
“A substance capable of protecting against magic was ‘coated’ on it. I have a bit of it, but not enough to dye an entire Venon. Most importantly, such materials are not so favorable for us sorcerers, hence why its dissemination is strictly controlled. There are barely fifteen people in all of Lutia who even know of this dye’s existence.”
Fortunately, a day had passed since Dunmel infiltrated the village without any incidents. Across the bridge, Mozes appeared and disappeared repeatedly, but no significant actions were observed. There was no sign of the large logs Dunmel had discovered being used.
‘What are they planning to do with those? Are they intending to build a bridge across the river with them? They seem too short for that, don’t they?’
The construction of palisades continued. Dunmel was unsure about their practicality. The usually silent Loyal became even more reticent. Morale plummeted, and soldiers, who had been on rotating guard duty for days, occasionally dozed off leaning on their spears.
The enemy commander knew well that these soldiers were not regular army. Instead, sorcerers capable of overturning rivers or destroying bridges were holding the line. A hasty attack would mean significant losses for the attackers as well. So, they wait for an internal collapse…
‘Why are they conserving their forces? If conquering Lutia is their goal, there’s no need to wait.’
If the ultimate objective was elsewhere, it would make sense. But that seemed unlikely. The foes were definitely aiming to bring down Lutia’s tower. The question was, when?
‘How long do they intend to make us wait? A week? A month?’
The attack would come before the sorcerers became accustomed to combat methods. Yet, they also had to wait until the soldiers were fatigued. Considering that, launching an assault within three days seemed most appropriate. Even if adequate reinforcements arrived from Aranthia by then, could they be stopped? The enemy commander might be preparing an attack that, even if foreseen, couldn’t be thwarted.
Discussing this, Dunmel talked about the previous day’s encounter with the Kaguas and the Venons in a meeting with Luder, Philip, and Golbein. Luder, who was due to guard the bridge, only heard the beginning before hastily leaving the meeting room.
Golbein weakly opened up to Philip.
“I’ve made a mistake. I was pressed for time when researching this fur and sought the assistance of other Kainswick teachers. If it becomes known that someone knowledgeable enough about magical materials to dye this fur is on their side, it will only amplify suspicions of a traitor within Lutia.”
Philip caught his words. His flowing blond hair, which seemed long unwashed, was in disarray.
“The black robes worn by the Kaguas might be of the same kind. The Mozes are unaffected by magic only within Lutia’s borders, but those creatures are impervious to magic everywhere. Have you informed Master Ruskin?”
“He’s been by the White Mystery since evening. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I haven’t spoken to him yet. He hasn’t come out since he told me he would try to connect with the sorcerers of Lemifs before entering his room. I believe he has his ways. He won’t just watch Lutia fall.”
Golbein concluded emphatically, making the candlelit room feel even darker.
“Two thousand monsters immune to magic, and three Kaguas likewise. It’s a dead end.”
Philip sighed heavily.
“The fact that our magic doesn’t work on them severely impacts the soldiers’ morale. The fear has intensified since it became known that the Kaguas command the Mozes. They were scared even when they thought it had nothing to do with the Mozes…”
Golbein then turned to Loyal, who had been listening silently with his arms crossed.
“Tell us honestly, Loyal Wolf. Do you believe you can win in a one-on-one fight?”
“The only ones I cannot defeat in a one-on-one are my master and my friends.”
Loyal asserted as always.
Dunmel wanted to disagree. Even though they hadn’t clashed with full force yet, the power of those riding Venon and wielding spears was not something to be lightly spoken of.
‘They will cross the river by some means and launch a massive attack. Even the attacks by Grand Master Ruskin might not work then. They will find a way to counter. So, we need to think of something other than defense.’
Though Dunmel conveyed this through Loyal, everyone showed reluctance.
“A counterattack? Impossible.”
‘There must be another way than just counterattacking.’
The two sorcerers were stunned into silence.
Philip asked, “Are you suggesting… we abandon Lutia?”
Dunmel nodded.
“I’ve never even considered such a thing!”
Philip stood up abruptly and went to the map always spread out on the table during meetings. Pointing at the spread of white light around Nonsearch, he exclaimed,
“See this? This light exists because Lutia is here. Each of these points represents a dream vested in Lutia, and those dreams are what build Lutia. We cannot live without Lutia! How can you so easily suggest we abandon Lutia?”
They knew. These were people who had hesitated even to destroy a single bridge.
Golbein tried to calm down Philip, but Philip, brushing back his hair, turned his anger towards the dark-faced sorcerer instead. Dunmel, feeling he might have been too rash, was about to apologize when he noticed a particularly bright white dot on the map in the Downsearch area. This light was significantly brighter than others.
Narrowing his eyes, Dunmel spotted another dot of the same size in Nonsearch. The light showing slight movements at Larvitten Bridge was the same size as the one in Nonsearch. Two dots of the same size in different locations: one where the monsters swarmed and another where the soldiers stayed.
Dunmel hastily asked Loyal to convey his question.
“Both of you, please, calm down. Dunmel has a question. The substance used to dye the Venon, if it’s worn, does it not appear on Ettley’s map?”
“Essentially, since it’s influenced by magic, the Kaguas probably won’t appear on the map.”
Golbein said, after finally calming Philip down and getting him to sit.
Loyal pointed to the white dot in Downsearch.
“Then what is this?”
Both were startled to discover the white light.
“It must be one of our sorcerers!”
Philip exclaimed.
“Didn’t you say that injured ones barely emit any light? But isn’t this one quite bright?”
Philip agreed with Loyal’s observation.
“Look at this large dot near the bridge. That’s Luder. This map detects the life force, but if someone is strong in magic, they emit a stronger light relative to others. This magic map detects magic, that’s why even strong knights like you only appear as dots of the same brightness as ordinary people.”
“So, the dot now in Downsearch is…”
“Justin.”
Before Loyal could finish, Philip nearly cheered as he looked at Golbein’s face.
“He’s alive. If not Justin, there’s no other sorcerer who could emit such a strong light!”
“Should we go to rescue?”
Loyal asked.
“We need to think more about it. Suddenly revealing their strength like this might mean…”
The light quickly disappeared again. The four of them stared at each other, waiting for the light to reappear. However, even after half an hour, the light did not return.
“I don’t know what to say…”
Golbein was visibly troubled. Eventually, they couldn’t come to a conclusion. Hopes were mixed with the possibility that if Justin was alive, he might not be captured but pretending to be, to create an opportunity for them. The meeting ended on that hopeful note.
It was two days later when they learned the true nature of that light. Until then, they couldn’t be sure if it was truly a light of hope or a warning of despair.
☆ ☆ ☆
“Dunmel, could you come here for a moment?”
Bedford approached from the darkness, gesturing. Dunmel had been loosening up his muscles by helping with the palisade construction after receiving the antidote treatment. Without asking what it was about, Dunmel followed him.
In a small house in Nonsearch, Bedford and the teachers from Kainswick had gathered, including some rather old students. They were huddled around only candlelight, looking as if they were plotting a rebellion. But from the tone of their conversation, Dunmel got an ominous feeling that it might actually be the case.
Bedford prepared pen and paper for communication with Dunmel and began to speak.
“To save time, I’ll make the introductions brief and get straight to the point. As you all know, this is Dunmel Wolf, who has come from Aranthia.”
Bedford quickly introduced everyone from left to right, their faces bearing a sense of solemnity.
“We are an organization separate from Lutia’s tower or Kainswick. As you know, magic doesn’t work on the Mozes. So, we’ve been investigating why that is and ended up forming this group among those who share the same sentiment.”
Bedford spoke closer to the candlelight.
“I’ll just get to the point, considering you might attract suspicion if you’re away for too long. Someone is definitely using protective magic on the Mozes. And it’s a different kind of magic that we’re unfamiliar with, powerful enough to counter the power of the White Mystery…”
Dunmel realized the issue that the masters in Lutiano were worried about was starting here. However, he didn’t show any reaction on his face.
“Some think it could be a sorcerer from outside, but that’s a naive thought. It’s unimaginable that a sorcerer of such caliber would be from somewhere other than Lutia. Above all, the Mozes are unaffected by magic only when they approach close to Lutia. That means it’s an inside job.”
Bedford cautiously observed Dunmel’s expression, hoping for some written response as he held the pen. However, Dunmel remained silent.
“This is a dangerous statement and a problem too big for us to handle alone. That’s why we’ve called you to discuss this matter.”
Another person cautiously spoke to Dunmel. Feeling the pressure of their expectant gazes, Dunmel dipped his pen in ink and briefly wrote on the paper.
— Who do you suspect?
Bedford finally relaxed his tense expression and said,
“Initially, we thought of the most powerful Grand Master. But why would someone who could simply destroy the White Mystery and easily bring ruin to Lutia bother with such a complicated process? Instead, that person has been spending a lot of time protecting the room containing the White Mystery lately. There could be various reasons, but I believe it’s to guard Lutia’s symbol from a potential traitor within. It’s indirect evidence that he too suspects an insider.”
Another person, impatient with Bedford’s slow speech, took over the speculation.
“Master Ettley was also a prime suspect at first. He’s always been irritable towards everyone and not very popular, so there was some speculation. However, he has passed away. May he forgive us for suspecting him…”
He bowed his head briefly before continuing.
“Master Golbein, though considered a teacher by all, was suspected next after Master Ruskin for his proficiency in all magic. However, since we were always by his side assisting in research, it would be impossible for him to have time to aid the monsters even if he wanted to. It’s not him. Master Luder? The one who fights at the forefront when the Mozes attack, risking his life? It’s too dangerous to perform such acts just to avoid suspicion. He was seriously injured in this battle, after all.”
Dunmel had witnessed Luder’s injury up close. A spear had missed by just half an arm’s length, which could have been fatal.
Dunmel reviewed the remaining masters and quickly guessed whom they suspected.
“Master Philip is genuinely too good-hearted to even suspect. Yet, we investigated him without exception. It was hard to find evidence that he wasn’t involved, but it was equally hard to find evidence that he was aiding the monsters. Moreover, he’s in a romantic relationship with Teacher Hedi. A person planning their marriage couldn’t possibly concoct such a terrible plot. Master Justin was also deemed above suspicion, yet he too has passed away. He always stood at the forefront in battles…”
As he hesitated to conclude, Bedford interrupted.
“We’ve even considered one who’s currently absent. Master Tanya. But obviously, it’s impractical for someone from the outside to do this. As I’ve said before, this act must come from within. Hence, we’ve narrowed it down to one possibility.”
“Master Dethain.”
Even as they seemed to have reached a conclusion amongst themselves, there was tension in naming a respected and revered master as a traitor.
Bedford took a sip of water before continuing.
“Master Dethain always shows up late to battles or only fights from the rear. The Mozes did not attack while he was away gathering reinforcements. Notice how the Mozes become restless again as soon as he leaves? I was convinced when I heard that he lost two of the four White Wolves and only brought back two. The disappearance of those two might also be Dethain’s doing.”
Regret washed over Dunmel for following Bedford. Dethain was impulsive and aggressive, but such traits made him less likely to be a traitor. Moreover, their deduction lacked a crucial element.
The Kaguas! If there was a traitor, they had to be connected to the Kaguas somehow.
But before delving into such speculations, Dunmel found it regrettable that they had to suspect each other at a time when unity was most needed. And after hearing these conjectures, he was at a loss on how to respond.
‘Should I pretend to agree? Or should I scold them? Opposing them might only worsen internal strife…’
It seemed best to appear somewhat agreeable to continue receiving their information. Yet, he did not want to be part of suspecting the masters with whom he had fought side by side.
‘Sheyden, what would you do? Azwin or Gerald wouldn’t bother with such grave concerns. Why did they choose me to burden with these complicated worries?’
Dunmel honestly wished he hadn’t heard any of it. But the situation had grown too significant to pretend ignorance. The center of the internal turmoil the masters feared was right here among them.
— I will think it over separately. Let’s ensure this doesn’t leak outside.
After much contemplation, Dunmel wrote this down, showed it to everyone, and then left the room. The expectant looks from the members were too much to bear.
Stepping outside and breathing in the cold air, Dunmel felt the absence of Kassel acutely. Loyal had instinctively chosen Kassel to bring along. Dunmel belatedly agreed with Loyal’s judgment.
☆ ☆ ☆
When Loyal was woken up at dawn to switch guard duty, news came that the Lutiano was being summoned. With Master Philip guarding the bridge, now the Lutiano amounted to just Golbein, Luder, and Ruskin.
“Yesterday, there was talk of abandoning Lutia. I’ve urgently called this Lutiano to discuss that point.”
Ruskin spoke slowly.
“I’ve heard there’s trouble among the students of Kainswick regarding a traitor within Lutia.”
Grand Master Ruskin’s gaze met Dunmel’s. As if he were the instigator of that trouble, Dunmel felt a twinge in his heart.
“Yes. It seems the consensus is that it would have to be a master of Lutia to cast protective magic surrounding the monsters. The secret rumors, when gathered, shockingly point towards Dethain being under suspicion.”
Luder clicked his tongue and said,
“Fear makes people’s hearts fragile and scatters their judgment. To think that someone who loves Lutia more than anyone could be accused of betraying it… it’s a sad affair.”
Ruskin stroked his white beard, then suddenly asked as if a thought occurred to him,
“Speaking of magical protection, couldn’t it be the work of the Kaguas?”
Golbein answered,
“We don’t feel any magical power coming from the Kaguas. Moreover, according to the investigation Dunmel conducted yesterday, they are definitely wearing robes protected from magic. Wearing it means they can’t use magic themselves, so that’s unlikely. They are not sorcerers.”
Ruskin nodded and said,
“In any case, instruct everyone to exercise caution. Even if our enemy is within, spreading such rumors will cause us to crumble from the inside before we are even attacked. Now, Master Luder, could you explain the issue of abandoning Lutia and fleeing?”
Ruskin emphasized the word “abandon” significantly.
“First, I considered escaping through the eastern mountains. However, it’s impractical to flee through such treacherous paths with over five hundred elderly and women, and nearly four hundred injured. So, the idea was to mobilize all soldiers to secure a retreat path along the river, and once we pass through the River Forest, we can fight the Mozes on equal footing since magic works there.”
Luder pointed on the map and explained diligently.
“If we use this method, the most important thing is not to let the enemy discover our escape route. So, I thought about whether we should distract them by launching an attack first.”
“That’s too risky. Are you suggesting we spread our already limited forces even thinner?”
Golbein expressed his concern.
“There could be various methods. Better ones too! So, shouldn’t we decide whether to proceed or not first? What do you think, Master Ruskin?”
“It’s uncertain whether their target is the land of Lutia or its inhabitants. It would be better if they were entities with some political motive acting behind them…”
“If they were considering negotiations, they wouldn’t have launched such merciless attacks. Or they would have made their demands clear from the start, using the Mozes as a front.”
“Indeed. It will be difficult, but please focus on securing a reliable escape route first. We can discuss the next steps after reinforcements arrive from Aranthia. Whether those reinforcements will be enough to defend Lutia or just to protect the escape route remains to be seen.”
Dunmel, whose gaze met Ruskin’s again, kept his expression neutral to avoid revealing his thoughts. However, Ruskin smiled as if he had read Dunmel’s mind.
“Let’s conclude this Lutiano.”
After Ruskin left the room, Luder leaned back in his chair and murmured,
“Our fate depends on whom Dethain brings back.”
That was what Dunmel had been thinking throughout the meeting. He wasn’t expecting a miracle, though.
Dunmel left the tower and looked northward towards Nadium.
‘What are you thinking, Your Majesty? Who will you send to Lutia?’
The ominous dawn light filled the sky.
☆ ☆ ☆
For the first time since being driven back from the Larvitten Bridge, a Moze appeared close enough to be seen. It was indeed a bad time, as anxiety among the soldiers was already at its peak.
‘A very good timing for the enemy.’
Dunmel had to acknowledge that the Moze commander, the Kagua, was a strategist beyond the ordinary.
Some soldiers hastily drew their bows, and the alarm bell was rung. Panic and fear quickly enveloped the soldiers. However, the Moze that had approached from the direction of Downsearch towards the bridge was only one.
“Calm down, it’s just one!”
Philip quickly pacified the soldiers.
Dunmel, with his arms crossed, watched the actions of the single Moze. It wasn’t just out to observe. The creature stopped a fair distance from the bridge and began waving a white cloth frantically. Philip, flabbergasted, looked back and forth between Dunmel and Loyal standing beside him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Loyal shrugged his shoulders.
“Doesn’t it seem to have a political purpose?”
It was an appropriately timely comment, uncharacteristic of Loyal.
Ruskin would naturally be in the room protecting the White Mystery, Golbein would be holed up in his laboratory trying to figure out what magical substance was used to dye the Venon, and Luder would be checking the River Forest with some soldiers to secure a retreat path for the future.
Philip was in charge here. He had to make a judgment and deal with this absurd situation.
With its shoulders hunched and snout twitching, the Moze waited for a response from this side. While the arrows from the other soldiers wouldn’t reach, Dunmel was within a distance where he could easily shoot. But he waited. After a moment of contemplation, Philip instructed a soldier next to him to wave any flag as a signal.
“This could be a good opportunity to see what the enemy commander is thinking,”
Philip murmured, watching the Moze’s reaction.
A soldier waved a flag symbolizing Lutia a few times. Then, the Moze, dragging something that looked like a sack of grain, approached towards the bridge. The way it dragged suggested something quite heavy was inside the sack.
“What does it look like?”
Philip asked.
Dunmel had already guessed what might be in the sack the Moze was dragging and pressed his lips tightly together. The Moze zigzagged to avoid the palisades set up on the bridge and then, about midway across, left the sack and started to slink back.
The soldiers, alternating their gaze between the retreating Moze and Philip, awaited orders. Reluctantly, Philip walked towards the middle of the bridge alone, and Dunmel followed him.
As they approached the sack left by the Moze, Philip’s steps slowed. The sack was stained with blood. Philip grabbed the sack, peeked inside, and then recoiled.
Inside was the naked body of a human, mutilated with cuts, and the sack filled with sticky blood emitted a foul odor. The blood hadn’t fully coagulated, indicating the person hadn’t been dead for long. The eyes had been gouged out, but the face was recognizable.
It was Master Justin.
“This bastard!”
Enraged, Philip, forgetting that magic didn’t work, swung his staff at the Moze. An invisible heat that warmed the surrounding air distorted space as it reached the Moze. The Moze, in a panic, was lifted as high as a person and burst into flames. After a painful struggle, its body turned into black ash and fell apart on the ground.
Philip, who had used magic in a moment of uncontrollable anger, as well as the soldiers who didn’t understand why Philip was so furious about what was in the sack, and Dunmel, who shuddered at the thought that others captured might have suffered the same fate, all froze in place.
Magic had worked!
“Captain Koret!”
Philip called out as he turned back towards the bridge.
Koret hurried over to receive Philip’s order.
“Find Master Luder.”
☆ ☆ ☆
The moment it was discovered that magic worked on the Mozes, chaos erupted among the soldiers. Opinions varied wildly: some said all sorcerers should lead a counterattack immediately, others warned it might be a trap to lure them out of the bridge, some speculated that only the magic Philip used at that moment worked, and others believed the power of the White Mystery had been restored. No one considered the ‘why’ important.
Now bearing the responsibility for all of Lutia, Philip and Luder were cautious. Perhaps that’s why Luder appeared troubled by the fact that magic had worked.
“It’s too hasty to call for a total attack just because one Moze was burned…”
In contrast, Philip was excited.
Ruskin nodded and remarked,
“Nevertheless, for some reason, the protective magic surrounding them has disappeared. If we don’t take advantage of this opportunity, what other choice do we have? Maybe, we should try using magic in the middle of Downsearch first?”
“What if there are hostages? We can’t just ignore them.”
“…Yes, that’s true but…”
“Also, the Kaguas still control Downsearch. What about that? Considering the number of Mozes, we can’t rashly provoke them even if magic now works on them.”
“In any case… This is an opportunity. What does Master Ruskin say?”
“I haven’t informed him yet. Look at the White Mystery. Its light has become stronger. Even if he hasn’t received a report, it seems he’s well aware of the situation.”
“And Golbein?”
“He’s in his room now, having told me to inform him if there’s any change in the situation. He’s exhausted from handling the tower’s duties alone since the two of us were assigned to patrol the outskirts. Yet, he hasn’t complained once.”
Dunmel excused himself for a moment from their conversation and stepped aside. The white light of the White Mystery brightly illuminated Nonsearch, but it couldn’t reach Downsearch.
‘Should I go back to Nonsearch?’
Ever since the incident in the catacombs of Denmoju, Dunmel had lost himself in battles in the dark. Even considering his poor condition, he hadn’t managed to gain the upper hand while fighting two Kaguas during the day. What if three appeared? The more he tried to regain his composure, the more guilt and anger surfaced.
Bedford approached Dunmel, who was leaning against the palisade, and said,
“It’s Dethain.”
Chewing on his fingernails, Bedford emphasized again,
“Whenever Dethain is absent, the Mozes don’t attack, and now, with Dethain away, magic worked on the Mozes. If he, poised to be the next Grand Master with such power and knowledge, could have discovered a powerful protective magic against the White Mystery. When did he say he would return?”
Dunmel replied that he didn’t know.
“Don’t get your hopes up. Perhaps he went to bring back your comrades only to abandon them again and return empty-handed. We must inform the Grand Master of this fact and overcome this crisis together. I ask of you.”
Leaving the burden of the situation on Dunmel, Bedford left. The relaxed smile he had when they first met was completely gone. So were everyone else’s.
Lutia was no longer the sacred city of magic. It resembled Normant just before the attack by the Red Rose Count. No, it was worse because, at least then, the enemy was human.
The soldiers were panicked, and the sorcerers couldn’t make a decision. Neither Dunmel nor Loyal knew what to do. More than anyone, Dunmel wished Kassel were here. Loyal instinctively guessed that what Lutia needed wasn’t just forces to fight the Mozes but a captain to unite their strength, hoping Kassel would come.
Eventually, a day passed with nothing but opinions flying around, and nothing was done. Dethain had not yet returned. Given the distance, he might arrive by this evening or tomorrow morning at the earliest, but Dunmel had been waiting for him since morning. Perhaps he wasn’t just waiting for reinforcements but also hoping Dethain would hurry back to prove himself not a traitor.
Dunmel made sure to rest occasionally to avoid exhaustion but couldn’t fall into a deep sleep. After a light meal at dawn, he looked across the bridge.
It seemed a decision had been made to attempt a preemptive strike, as a meeting of two masters and some sorcerers was hastily convened. Loyal was among them, but Dunmel did not join. Instead, he asked Loyal to inform him of the outcome and walked along the river.
‘Let’s assume the Kaguas are tactically proficient generals.’
Whether the incident of throwing Master Justin’s body to demoralize the soldiers and then discovering that magic worked on them was intentional or accidental, they would have been prepared for it. Had we hastily attacked with magic at night, we could have faced a deadly counterattack. It was fortunate that we didn’t make a rash attempt amidst the chaos.
The same applied when the Mozes retreated to the forests on the outskirts of Outsearch where magic worked. Had we acted swiftly and launched a preemptive strike, even if the counterattack itself had been successful, the sorcerers would have suffered more.
The enemy commander used a lure tactic. However, it didn’t work on the indecisive sorcerers. Instead, they simply pushed with numbers and ended up only capturing Downsearch beyond Larvitten Bridge. The Lutia side regarded the retreat beyond the bridge as a disgrace, but conversely, the Moze side might view failing to capture beyond Larvitten Bridge as a failure.
What about the next battle? A counter-counterattack? Was giving up Justin’s body a trap or a mistake?
The most important question remains unanswered.
Why aren’t they attacking? With their numbers and forces, why are they just waiting? Strategy wasn’t Dunmel’s forte. The wise sorcerers might have come up with a better strategy, but they lacked the confidence to implement it.
The sorcerers decided to launch a counterattack, and the execution time was set for noon when the sun was highest. Twenty sorcerers led by Master Luder and thirty soldiers prepared for the attack at the end of the bridge. Loyal took the lead, and Dunmel, along with Philip, was assigned to guard Larvitten Bridge in case of any emergency.
As noon approached, Dunmel had a bad premonition and crossed the bridge alone. Although no movement of the Mozes was visible, the atmosphere was bustling. Whether they knew of this operation or not, it could no longer be called a surprise attack.
They were preparing something.
“What’s going on?”
Loyal approached and asked.
Dunmel took a moment to gather his thoughts.
‘They are moving.’
“Could it be… magic doesn’t work on them again?”
‘I don’t know. The Mozes’ movements have become frantic.’
The frantic activity continued for about half an hour. Luder waited anxiously. Noon had passed, but they couldn’t proceed with the preemptive strike as planned. Dunmel asked Loyal what he could hear.
“The Mozes’ eerie cries are getting closer. Luder is worried that their final attack is starting now.”
‘What do you think?’
“It doesn’t seem like an attack. They’re just advancing.”
A few Mozes started to appear. Loyal and Dunmel, still on the other side of the bridge, watched their movements.
Those that appeared first were flanked by others who lined up in a row. The number stretched to about thirty—a significant amount, but after having seen hundreds just a short while ago, it seemed meager. They began to advance slowly in step.
“It’s too late. We should have struck last night. Now magic doesn’t work on them again. That’s why they’re attacking now.”
Loyal relayed Philip’s words.
Luder, who had been across the bridge, crossed over to stand next to Dunmel, pondering something. Then, with a stern face, he extended his staff forward. His staff emitted various colors of light, followed by a blast of intense heat. Flames shot through the air like arrows, and several Mozes leading the advance were engulfed in flames, turning to ash. The approaching Mozes halted their steps, hunching over in unison.
“Huh?”
Surprised by his own action, Luder let out an uncharacteristic shout. The creatures hesitated for a while, worried about another magical attack, before realigning and advancing again.
Knowing the Mozes could be affected by magic but still advancing put Luder in a difficult position. Dunmel would have hesitated too. At this moment, when it was known that magic worked, whether to command the soldiers to “charge” or to “flee.” However, Luder only shouted, “Stay alert.”
Indeed, the previous day’s act of bringing Master Justin’s body was to “deliberately” demonstrate that magic worked. The enemy commander had been waiting for the Lutia sorcerers to boldly counterattack. Now, they seemed to have grown weary of waiting and appeared once again to attempt something.
The Mozes stopped a certain distance from the river. The initial line that came down was flanked by others, ultimately amounting to around two hundred. Although they were armed, they were not a force capable of facing the sorcerers directly. Despite the confusion and panic, if magic worked, Luder alone could have wiped them out.
“What do you think they’re up to?”
Loyal nudged Dunmel’s shoulder and asked.
‘I’m not sure. It seems there’s more to it than this.’
Both sides knew that magic worked on the Mozes. Despite being affected by Luder’s test magic, they did not flee. If they attacked with full force, it might have been worth gritting their teeth and fighting, but with this indecision, the soldiers only murmured among themselves.
Now that magic was confirmed to work, the sorcerers who had been advocating for an attack, suggesting they burn them and then freeze the ashes, found themselves unable to act when the opportunity arrived.
Following this, a second wave of Mozes from Downsearch advanced towards the river in a formation similar to the first. The second wave was about half the size of the first. Some of them carried wooden poles on their shoulders, totaling twelve.
Initially, it was thought that these wooden poles might be used to cross the bridge, but they were too frail and short for that purpose. Dunmel humorously thought it would be better to make boats and row over. Soon, he realized that these crudely resembled crosses. Dunmel held his breath. People were tied to those crosses.
As the monsters waiting in the first wave joined in erecting the crosses brought by the second wave, the people tied to the wood cried out in pain from the pressure of their own body weight pulling them down. Their tangled hair, torn clothes, and blood-stained faces indirectly told of the torment they had endured while captured. Some were nearly unconscious, while others screamed in agony. Some seemed numb to the pain, staring blankly across the bridge.
Among them, Flora was bound to one of the crosses.
–TL Notes–
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