Darius neatly lined up the books and scrolls he retrieved on top of the bed. Schon sat on the chair watching him shuttle about the room. 

“Teacher, how is the situation in the capital?”

The old warlock paused, “Furies from woodlands attacked the southern outpost and nearby estates. It has been under control because of the prompt response from the imperial knights. Meanwhile, the Holy Temple had a little dispute over this Diviner your monarch identified. You sent a request for Ayan’s case not long ago, correct?”

Schon nodded. 

“Huh! Those fools in the lower valley did not send it. I suspect someone asked them to intercept the message. Next time, you address it straight to Edmund, not to that idiot Castel.”  

“The only reason they can jump around and do tricks was that you refuse to return…” Schon muttered with a hint of complaint. “Holy Temple needs you Teacher or else we will be corrupted.”

Old Darius rubbed his beard and looked out the window with melancholy. “Corruption is inevitable as time changes. Holy Temple is not a monolithic organization, when harmony is disrupted, conspiracy and the ugly side of humanity will rear its head.” 

Schon fell into deep thought, is this the reason why he often comes out? Over time the cliques inside the institute are growing more and more rampant when brandishing their authority. Some elders began to form inappropriate thoughts about the top seat. 

Before, most magic practitioners came from high born clans. The reason being is that those old families have strong and pure bloodlines with abundant mana. Rarely does a person from the common folk display extraordinary talent given their situation. It was not discrimination but simply nature’s law.    

But the distinction was forgotten over time as intermarriage began to proliferate. However, along with this change, a huge price was paid. Strong magic began to wane. 

The Sybil faction, with a Queen from a humble origin and is believed to have more love for the ordinary people uses this chance to rouse the spirit of the common folk to line themselves under their banner. 

-knock knock knock-

“Schon, I know you are inside.” Beck’s voice seeped through the closed doors. 

Schon pretended she did not hear anything and continued to pore over the scrolls in front of her. The farce about her gender is yet to pass because she refused to openly discuss it.  

“You have to come out!” Beck insisted. “It’s not proper for a lady to stay in the room of a gentleman. You have been hiding in there for two days.” 

If he stopped creating such a noise for a moment perhaps she can consider talking to him. “My master is old. How dare you suspect him?!”

“Your master is a man nonetheless.”

Old Darius held his aching head. Can you bicker without including my old bones? Then Schon looked at him accusingly as if saying: If it’s not for you my secret could have been kept! 

“How would I know that you kept your gender secret?” The old warlock was indignant. 

His student had always been serious and diligent, she was too mature for her age but he just took it as her determination to get out of her parent’s sphere of influence. After all, Schon’s family situation was a bit special but not once did he suspect that she also made such a move. 

“I always thought Teacher understood my intention all this time.”

Intention! What intention? Changing from she to he then back again?! 

Sigh, these aristocrats are hard to understand sometimes that is why he chose a wandering lifestyle. Darius blew his beard out of anger and ejected the errant kid out of his chamber. 

Beck kept on taunting her to come out. He did not want to piss her off but hell, he had been waiting for an explanation being the friend whom he grew up with and lied to but days passed and she chose to evade. He was about to knock again when Schon’s emotionless face came out. 

“Go outside.” She said frigidly. 

 

There was an unusual gloom in the sky covering the entire Schwarz Bog. In the alluvial forest were marshes and hills form, the former land nurturing numerous species of rare plants is now a home for furies and wraiths. 

The once vivid green colour turned into grey from the miasma exhaled by countless dark creatures.  

Clayton covered his face as soon as they stepped deeper. The solid ground gradually changed into a muddy path as they neared the centre. A green-scaled python sprang out from the right aiming at the soldiers lagging. 

There was not enough time to prepare, Fatty Lam who was on the forefront was going to become snake lunch when a silvery beam hit the python’s head smashing it to the giant tree trunk. 

The serpent writhed in pain dragging along a trail of black blood until it finally evaporated into dark mist. Clayton held the Faerie Wing and signalled for everyone to walk cautiously. 

Fatty Lam was still speechless at what happened, it wasn't until Knoll patted him on the back that he started moving his stiff limbs. 

“D-Did you see that?”

Knoll nodded. “It was a huge snake.”

“No! I was talking about the sword. He finally unsheaths it. I have never seen him take it out of its scabbard.” 

“The sword is a spiritual one, it cannot be released so lightly like ordinary weapons and based on Clayton’s identity, it is no surprise for him to own a powerful artifact.” 

Thanks to it they were able to avoid a huge crowd of monsters. The initial plan was to follow the path the 5th Order marked on the map. However, if they follow the original trail it will take three more days before they arrive at the campground. Clayton proposed they use one of the secluded trails which will lead them directly to the trapped knights. 

Apparently, these trails were closed for a reason. The sudden rise of monsters made it impossible for travellers and medicine pickers to pass here. Although it will cut their journey by half, the danger is extremely high. 

But for Clayton who had faced the giants of Crucible Mountain, these small fries are nothing to be concerned about. Naturally, he will not let go of this chance to train his people and let them improve their skills. Among the Thorns, it was only Kanon who understood his intent. Knoll and the others had no escape either. 

Facing his unsuspecting brothers, Kanon silently lit a candle for them in his heart. 

Sure enough, the formation was yet to return when someone shouted. Hearing the threat approaching, Kanon raised his voice to the team leaders and everyone raised their swords vigilantly. 

Some mercenaries are beginning to regret following the Thorns route. They should have broken up at the entrance of the forest! Knoll saw the dissatisfaction of their comrades and lowered his head to explain, “Actually the hidden path is swarmed with monsters because of the lack of human presence for a very long time and though they are slightly stronger than the usual ones, we wouldn’t be able to encounter similar things when we return. It saves a lot of trouble.”    

His words had an obvious effect that he could barely see their frustration, but not everyone is convinced. 

“Humph! How did you know that it would be safer when we return? You’re not fooling us, Knoll, are you?”

“Yeah! Why elect a leader that is many years younger than us?”

Knoll takes their anger in stride, “My friends, the leader over there-- see that man holding a silver sword? He travelled the Crucible Mountains for two months with his family and faced larger monsters than the ones here. Of course, he knows which path is best to take!”

If you’re going to find a backer, then you better rely on a strong one with enough experience. 

Clayton with his back on them stood far away at the front. Neither the miasma nor the shadows of terrifying creatures fazed him.  

Everyone looked at their tight line-up and saw fright in each other's eyes. At this moment, it felt like a shame claiming to be mercenaries when they are secretly cowering like babies. 

Kanon was aware of this problem as well but he is not in a hurry to correct them. They will notice on their own eventually. 

For a whole day, everyone was dragged into a tense battle until they reached the exit. 

The state of the 5th Order has surpassed everyone’s expectation of worse. Commander Sidrain, the forty-year-old man knew they were set up. Schwarz Bog did not only claim many lives from his troops but left those who remained to suffer hell-like punishment. 

The commander endured the tearing pain on his right leg as a young knight dressed the gash running from his knee to half of his sheen. The flesh turned out they can visibly see the white bone peeking from it. 

“Commander…” the knight gritted his teeth. Blood rushed from the pressed wound wetting the bandage. 

“Tighter,” Commander demanded as if immune to the pain. His face had lost most of its colour but his posture was still straight and strong.  

His eyes glowed with feral contempt as emotion boiled inside his chest. 

The injury did not have the colour of dark contamination, rather it looked neat like any other wounds received from a very sharp weapon. Commander Sidrain will never forget how the Shadowmongers jumped into their path and started eliminating his knights and lured the furies to collide with them.  

What bullshit medicine are they looking for?! They were clearly sent here to be slaughtered like animals. Bitter bile rose from his throat along with the rusty taste of blood. 

The commander was emotionally and mentally distraught that he violently vomited. 

The campground is filled with the foul smell of blood and decay. After being forcefully pushed into this side of the marshes, the 5th Order along with the garrison knights immediately set up a safety perimeter against the furies. Commander Sidrain’s horse was given to the servant who accompanied him for a long time in order to save his little life. A battlefield is an unforgiving place, but this time the commander knows it might be the last time he raises his sword.

His only regret is that his son and wife will be left unprotected once he is gone. 

The soldiers rushed in all directions to light up the torches before nightfall. When darkness comes, those creatures will return. Commander Sidrain rose to his feet, albeit limping, he walked vigorously more than anyone. 

He will not face death shrinking in the corner. When the moon rose, everyone’s heart tightened. The feast of demons began. 

Clayton and the rest held torches as they came out of the hidden passage a few meters away from the hill where the 5th Order situated. Below them are the gleaming eyes of predators. The sky was eerily green because of the miasma. 

A red-eyed goblin rushed with his mace and was welcomed by Fatty Lam’s large sword, pounding the tiny green creature into a mass of unknown purple paste. 

More and more demons came out from the mud of the marsh. Clayton has already left the formation and forcefully made a path leading up the hill. A long trail of meat and bones littered behind. Above, Commander Sidrain tirelessly cut several bodies until they piled up into a mound of disgusting mess. His wound was aggravated pouring out fresh blood. 

Then he saw it. The flickering firelight from hundreds of torches forming a huge line lit up his diminishing hope. Reinforcements?! He could not believe his eyes at first but when he saw the beam coming off the gentleman’s silver sword harvesting lives from anything that blocked its way, his dead heart jumped to life. The knights behind roared and cheered as hey saw that rescue was approaching. The former heavy spirits of these men  were revitalized ushering a new round of intense collision. 

A stab wound in the back? No problem. I'll cut ten more demon heads! 

Feral wolves? Their fur can be used as high-quality carpets!

The commander just breathed a moment of relief when his foot slipped from the sticky blood. A giant mass of flesh saw his temporary distraction, it stomped its foot, shaking the ground suddenly then launched its humongous body to flatten him. 

Commander Sidrain was too late to evade, Kanon saw the situation up ahead. He flashed to the commander's side receiving the attack with multiple slashes. The giant’s hand was turned into meat sauce leaving only two stumps on elbows. Seconds after that, Kanon leapt overhead, raised his sword and easily decapitated the fleshy giant’s head. 

Seeing that the commander had gained his foothold, he tipped his head and resumed to fight, seeking the other two oversized meat balls emerging from the marshes. 

Not far, the glow from Faerie Wing has created a huge circle of white amongst the blight. Clayton ruthlessly ploughed through every furies crawling and pouring out of the marsh. The wraiths sprouting from the ground were quickly expelled by the artifact before they could take solid forms. 

The rescue troops broke through the barricade of monsters and reached the hill. The battle went on until the sky brightened and the soldiers and mercenaries alike were spent. 

“Commander!” Aldo, the commander’s curly-haired pageboy, cried out in snot and tears seeing his lord leaning weakly in one of the wooden posts. “I, I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you...uuuuu!”

“Stupid child, why did you return?” 

“I’m glad you are alive! We are not too late.”

Commander Sidrain blustered. “I told you to hurry home, what did you do? You were ordered to return and you defied me?! Demerit!” 

Aldo’s crying turned into a howl, “I don’t care, I don’t care. You can punish me and even take off my merit for knighthood. What’s the use of me entering the army when you are not there?”

The commander squinted his eyes and pulled out a stick out of nowhere hitting his head lightly. “Bastard! What do you take my 5th Order for? A playground?! You will come and go as you like?” 

Aldo received the beating. But when he saw the wound on the old man’s leg he cried even harder. “Commander, you are injured!” His ugly tears rushing out like water from a faucet. 

Then Commander Sidrain sighed heavily. A good battle turned into a farce. This child is very honest but he is a little too soft to become a soldier. Letting him go was his last concession to give him an exit to this bleak and dangerous path. 

“Thank you, child.” The lord suddenly said.

The curly-haired brat suddenly stopped. As if he could not believe his ears. As the old man calmed down, the mercenaries took this time to shake hands with the knights and get acquainted. 

After a brief rest, they began retreating to the path where Clayton and the rescue team came out. Their return to Arpeggio was deliberately kept secret. A piece of false news was released that the rescue team is still stuck in the forest unable to reach the camp. Whereas those who were lying in ambush from the original trail waited and waited until they were anxious.