Chapter 20: March Out
Evernight Territory, Valley Base.
Kaito withdrew his consciousness from afar. With a light press of his bony hand on the edge of the bed, his skeletal frame sat up silently.
"Three days' journey, huh."
His voice echoed in the empty wooden cabin.
The next moment, an unmatched will swept through the entire Bone Forest like a storm!
"All units, return to the territory! Assemble!"
In an instant, whether they were chopping wood, patrolling, or hunting, every skeleton stopped its actions.
Over three thousand pairs of empty eye sockets turned in unison toward the valley. Then, they strode forward with synchronized steps.
Transforming into streams of white floodwater, they surged toward their King.
The figures of the six Generals appeared beneath Kaito's throne almost simultaneously.
"Lord Ruler!"
Kaito looked down at the swiftly assembled, densely packed white mass of the undead army in the square below—3,200 elite skeletons.
He left only one hundred of the lowest-tier Skeleton Soldiers to guard the base.
He waved his bony hand, pointing in the direction of Iron Fortress Territory.
"March out!"
Meanwhile, Iron Fortress Territory.
Kayden's group practically scrambled and rolled through the city gates.
Their wretched appearance and the trussed-up skeleton they were carrying immediately attracted everyone's attention.
They split into two groups. The shield warrior Boll and the mage Ayla, gasping for breath, headed straight for the Lord's Mansion.
The captain, Kayden, took the scout Finn and the priest Ariel, carrying their "trophy," and rushed toward the Adventurer's Guild.
Inside the Guild Hall, it was noisy and chaotic.
Mercenaries bragged about their achievements, the clinking of ale mugs mixing with crude jokes.
When Kayden's trio burst in, the entire hall went quiet for a moment.
Everyone's gaze was pinned dead on the Skeleton Swordsman, bound by ropes soaked in Holy Water, yet still struggling slightly.
"My god! Is that... a Tier 2 Skeleton Swordsman?"
"They captured one alive?! How is that possible!"
"Just subjugating a Tier 2 Skeleton Swordsman is already a Silver Rank quest! Capturing alive... that has to be at least Peak Silver!"
"The Silver Moon Squad is going to be famous now!"
Kayden turned a deaf ear to the exclamations and discussions around him. He rushed straight to the second floor of the Guild and kicked open the door to the Guild Master's office.
Inside the office, an old man with gray hair and a face covered in scars was polishing a war hammer.
He was the Guild Master of the Iron Fortress Adventurer's Guild, the Tier 3 Peak Berserker, Gregg.
"What's the rush, Kayden? Did the sky fall down?"
Gregg didn't even look up.
"Worse than the sky falling!"
Kayden's voice was urgent. He threw the struggling skeleton onto the floor and spoke immediately.
"Guild Master, in the Bone Forest... we found an Undead Army!"
Gregg's polishing motion stopped.
"Army?"
"Yes! At least fifty of them! All Tier 2 Skeleton Swordsmen like this one!"
Kayden pointed at the captive on the floor, speaking rapidly.
"They have organization, discipline, like a real army! They were even collecting the bones of their own kind!"
"We suspect these fifty might just be a... work detail operating outside!"
"They didn't actively attack us, just drove us away. This one we caught was just following behind, as if marking us!"
Gregg stood up abruptly, strode over to the Skeleton Swordsman in a few steps, and stared at it.
"Idiot!"
He suddenly roared, grabbed the war hammer at hand, swung it in a full arc, and smashed it viciously onto the Skeleton Swordsman's skull with a whistling wind!
BANG!
The skull shattered on impact. The small flame of purple Soul Fire, like a candle in the wind, extinguished instantly.
"Guild Master?!"
Kayden was stunned by this sudden scene.
"You idiots! You don't even know what you've done!"
Gregg's face was now ugly to the extreme. He pointed at the corpse, his voice trembling.
"To create an undead army of this scale and quality, there must be an Undead Lord behind it!"
"High-ranking undead can sense the location of every single soldier through a soul link!"
"Our location might have already been exposed right under that Lord's nose!"
Kayden muttered to himself.
"Undead Lord..."
The muscles on Gregg's face twitched. A fear of the unknown made him uneasy.
He feared that the unknown Undead Lord was already... on the way.
Almost at the same time, inside the Lord's Mansion, Viscount Andrew's roar shook dust from the ceiling.
"Are you goblins?! A bunch of idiots!"
He grabbed the documents on his desk and threw them crazily at Boll and Ayla.
"You knew something was wrong, yet you brought that thing back?!"
"Do you want the entire Iron Fortress Territory to be buried with you?!"
"Bastards! You self-righteous adventurers!"
Viscount Andrew's noble demeanor was gone, replaced by hysterical fear.
"Take me to your captain! Now! Immediately! I want to see with my own eyes what exactly you brought back!"
Moments later, Viscount Andrew led a squad of guards and stormed into the Adventurer's Guild in a rage.
"Gregg! Your people said..."
His voice stopped abruptly.
Because the moment he rushed in, everyone in the hall witnessed a scene they would never forget, a scene that overturned their worldview.
The skeleton whose Soul Fire had been personally extinguished by Guild Master Gregg, whose skull was shattered... moved its finger.
A thread of purple light, thinner than a hair, lit up deep within its broken eye sockets.
Click! Crack!
The resurrected Skeleton Swordsman sprang up. Ignoring the terrifying pressure of the two Tier 3 powerhouses next to it...
Its target was clear. Its bone claw turned into a white bolt of lightning, going straight for Kayden's throat!
"Watch out!"
Gregg reacted fastest. With a roar, his war hammer coated in white light smashed viciously at the Skeleton Swordsman.
Viscount Andrew also instantly drew the sword at his waist and joined the fray without hesitation.
Two Tier 3 powerhouses, the highest combat power of Iron Fortress, were actually forced to team up against a small Tier 2 Skeleton Swordsman!
Clang! Bang!
The fierce clash lasted only a few breaths.
The Skeleton Swordsman was ultimately outmatched and was soon subdued by the two again. Its limb joints were completely smashed, rendering it immobile.
But this time, no one dared to take it lightly.
Gregg and Viscount Andrew looked at each other, seeing unconcealable horror on each other's faces.
"Soul Fire extinguished... and it can still resurrect?"
Viscount Andrew's voice was incredibly dry.
"This is beyond our understanding."
Gregg's face was paler than a dead man's.
"For all undead creatures, the Soul Fire is the fatal weakness."
"Once the Soul Fire is out, it's just a pile of useless bones. Unless... it's the legendary Lich."
"Lich!"
Andrew sucked in a breath of cold air.
"That's a Tier 5 monster! There are only a handful in the entire Empire!"
"But even for a Lich, its Phylactery can only resurrect itself. It's absolutely impossible for it to grant this kind of immortality to a common Skeleton Soldier!"
From Bone Forest to Iron Fortress takes only three days. We don't have much time.
Viscount Andrew didn't say another word. He turned and left.
Returning to the Lord's Mansion, he immediately issued the highest-level emergency notice.
Ordering all subjects of Iron Fortress Territory to evacuate immediately, heading east to Count Barton's territory for asylum.
He wrote seven or eight letters in succession, sending them to Count Barton's territory via the fastest message hawks, then called his wife before him.
"Take the children, and all my treasures, and leave immediately! Go to the Count!"
His wife, an elegant noblewoman, grabbed his arm at this moment, shaking her head desperately.
"I won't leave! Andrew, I won't leave!"
Viscount Andrew looked at his wife before him. This man, always dignified in front of his subjects, dropped his reserve and hugged her.
"I am the Lord of Iron Fortress. I cannot leave! If I leave, our Andrew family will be reviled by everyone!"
"You and the children will live in the shame of being spat upon for the rest of your lives!"
His wife held him tightly, crying and shouting.
"Andrew! In my heart, you are more worthy of respect than the Emperor of the Empire!"
"You are more majestic and powerful than the Commander of the Royal Knights! I don't need any glory; I only want you! I am willing to die here with you!"
"But we still have the children..."
Andrew stroked his wife's long hair, his voice choking up.
"Don't be willful. For the children, live on."
His wife couldn't speak anymore. Desperate sobs, mixed with weak cries of "Bastard," echoed in the empty room.
The bell for evacuation rang throughout the city.
Receiving the news, Hamus returned to his small wooden house.
Lilia was quietly wiping a picture frame, as if the chaos outside had nothing to do with her.
"They're coming."
Hamus's voice was calm.
"Yes, they're coming."
Lilia didn't even turn her head.
"Leave, Lilia. There's still time."
"Hamus, I won't leave."
Lilia turned around, her eyes gentle yet firm.
"Even if I'm the only person left in this city."
Hearing this, Hamus suddenly smiled.
"What are you smiling at?"
Lilia gave him a playfully reproachful look.
Hamus walked up to her, gently stroking her cheek.
"I'm smiling because I forgot. I am also a Knight now."
"Is that so? I haven't forgotten, Sir Knight."
Lilia laughed too.
"Lilia, do you remember the first time we met?"
"That was so long ago, who remembers that clearly."
"Then please remember this time."
Before his voice fell, Hamus's hand chop fell like lightning, precisely striking the back of Lilia's neck.
Her body went limp.
Hamus caught her steadily, whispering in her ear.
"Forgive me, Lilia."
He picked her up and handed her through the back door to a female adventurer he knew well, who had been waiting there. He gave her all his life savings.
"Take her away. Use the fastest speed. Go to the Imperial Capital. Please."
Watching the carriage disappear into the chaotic flow of people, Hamus closed the door.
He went back into the house and pulled out from under the bed the longsword he had once lost the courage to hold.
By the dim light of the fireplace, using a whetstone, he slowly sharpened the blade. Shink. Shink.