The black sun hangs high

Chapter 46 The Shadow of the Falcon
The veteran's words silenced everyone present.

They had heard him talk about these things before, but there was a fundamental difference between hearing them in the past and hearing them now.

Most people here only plan to spend their lives in military camps or outposts, waiting to die. In this era where there is no war and minor conflicts occur occasionally, being able to participate in a hunting operation against certain magical creatures organized by the Legal Committee or the state is already considered a pretty good resume.

As for veterans who actually participated in battles against the Votel and escaped unscathed, they are truly anomalies in the military.

The soldiers didn't think he was bragging; they simply didn't want to listen or believe him.

But at this moment, everyone changed their attitude.

The long period of peace and stability made these young men, who had only received a little training before taking up arms and becoming soldiers, feel the most real sense of crisis for the first time. So the young soldier swallowed hard and said, "Henry, tell me more? What have you been through before?"

Hearing the young soldier ask this question, and seeing his comrades looking at him, the old soldier sighed helplessly. He didn't say anything sarcastic, but reached for his water bottle, took a big gulp, and then began to speak.

“I spent nearly ten years at the Isa River camp.”

"That's very far! Isn't the Isa River to the north?"

"It's very far from here. It flows down from the plateau, then turns and heads north, passing through Tina, Rooster City, and Fallen Leaf Castle before flowing into the sea... I was born in Rooster City."

As the veteran recalled, he recounted, "The Isa River camp was set up near where the river turns. As you all know, our country and the Waters have never been able to reach an agreement on the ownership of that area. And because the river keeps changing course, even if an agreement is reached, new problems will soon arise."

"Didn't the law committee officials keep helping to mediate?"

The veteran glared at the soldier who had spoken: "Mediation my ass! If their mediation were truly effective, people wouldn't still be dying there every day for so many years... Think about it, over two hundred years ago, they were still using magic-enchanted crossbows to shoot at each other, and now they're using crystal guns!"

His words, though spoken with a sense of helplessness, sounded rather comical, and the group immediately burst into laughter.

The veteran couldn't help but laugh. After the laughter subsided, he continued, "It's funny to think about it, but the causes of those conflicts I experienced were all ridiculous."

"At first, one of our young lads spotted an otter in the river. He was after its pelt, so he took a crossbow and shot it. But the carcass kept floating towards the center of the river. He got anxious, so he took off his clothes to try and retrieve it. But he'd only been in the water a short while when the guy from the highlands on the other side shot him too..."

The veteran shrugged: "He went off to keep the otter company, drifting downstream, and then our men started shooting at the other side."

Didn't they warn them?

"What warning? I've said it before, Walter's soldiers are like emotionless puppets. They may bleed and groan in pain, but their heads and eyes are only filled with orders. Their regulations state that anyone seen 'attempting to cross the river' is treated as a spy. That idiot was just asking for death!"

The veteran waved his hand: "The river will soon dry up, and you can walk across some of the shallower parts... Usually at that time, the surveyors from both sides will start to redefine the boundary and the river channel so that the officials from both sides can sit down and have a good talk. But that time, there were problems with the measurement. Both sides were unsure about several conclusions, and as they argued, they started fighting."

As he spoke, he tilted his head slightly and pointed to his neck in the light, where a very gruesome scar was visible: "I don't know much about what happened after that. I only know that one morning, I was suddenly dragged up, and as soon as we reached the riverbank, we saw a small group of Voltel people advancing towards us. Just like in the legends, they were wearing black coats, iron helmets, carrying swords, and holding crystal guns..."

"So it's true that many people say Walter's soldiers are much stronger than ours?"

Before the veteran could speak, the other soldiers chimed in: "Damn it, what kind of regular soldiers are we? We've been using crystal bullets to shoot birds, and we haven't seen a single dead body. If you ask me, being able to stand guard in this godforsaken place is the best we can do!"

The words were crude but the meaning was sound, so the self-aware soldiers immediately burst into laughter, while the veteran who had served at the Isa River camp shook his head helplessly. He took a cigarette from one of the soldiers, then took out his old lighter and started fiddling with it.

Finally, the cigarette was lit. Although it was a bit damp, being able to smoke a cigarette on a night like this was still a kind of enjoyment.

The old soldier exhaled, and the smoke drifted slowly into the dark night sky with his breath: "To be honest, there's no need for everyone to be too nervous. If there really is a war, it won't be people like us sent to the front lines. No matter how many of us go..."

The veteran's words were abruptly cut off by a muffled thud.

To the soldiers' horror, the sharp-tongued face with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a smile was frozen in time by the sentry's light. Something pierced through his head, and blood splattered onto the pillars and walls behind him.

The veteran's body slumped to the ground, and the cigarette he had just taken a puff of fell limply to the ground, rolling gently twice.

Before they could react, several faint buzzing sounds descended from the darkness, and the two soldiers in the guard post who were trying to observe the situation were instantly killed!

"Enemy, enemy... enemy attack..."

The most active young soldier was terrified, but he didn't forget his duty and mission. So he hurriedly pushed aside the bodies of his dead comrades and dragged out a hand-cranked magic alarm from the corner. He knew how to use it. He just had to put the magic crystals he had prepared into the slots and then quickly turn the crank on the side to make a sharp alarm sound.

Logically, each sentry post should have a similar alarm, and the soldiers should also be equipped with whistles for warning. But why didn't I hear any warning sounds? Is it magic?
The soldier didn't have time to think too much. He shakily inserted a prepared magic crystal into the groove of the alarm, then gripped the crank and began to crank it vigorously.

The piercing alarm finally sounded, but to his bewilderment, he received no response from his allies amidst the obvious alarm. The only answers the night gave him were muffled thuds and the sight of bodies falling one after another.

A few scattered shots of crystal guns rang out nearby, but as the attackers began a new round of firing, the soldiers who dared to return fire quickly fell silent.

As a survivor in the guard post, the young man had lost his composure. He couldn't understand what was happening, so after shaking the alarm twice more, he tremblingly grabbed his crystal gun. He huddled to the edge and cautiously peered out through the observation hole in the wall.

And so, the scene that the veteran had described before truly appeared before his eyes.

He saw one after another, straight black figures emerging from the woods, carrying weapons resembling crystal guns. They moved silently, advancing rapidly toward him in the extremely unusual silence. Beside them, one figure stood out conspicuously.

He was a spellcaster, leaning on a cane in his right hand and holding an open spellbook in his left. The spellbook emitted a dim yellow light, making him extremely conspicuous in the darkness.

As if sensing someone was watching him, the spellcaster suddenly stopped, raised his cane, and pointed it at the guard post where the young soldier was hiding in the distance. Under the gaze of the night, the valley-level destructive magic, simply named "Heavy Pressure" by the Legal Committee, acted directly on the area above the guard post.

As if stomped on by an invisible giant, the entire guard post collapsed in an instant, and the anxious gaze peering into the outside world was naturally buried and crushed within it.

This may not be the start of a formal war, but it is the smile that the god of death inadvertently revealed before waking from a dream.

Few people would know what happened at Lone Wolf Ridge that night.

Only a handful of people had the right to know about this operation. Apart from a few key figures in the Ernst family, only a few high-ranking military officers knew the details of the operation. They all shared a common characteristic: they all had close ties with the Ernst family.

Over the years, the Ernst family's influence has deeply permeated every aspect of the Kingdom of Walter, with the military undoubtedly being their stronghold.

Although Marshal Zeke Ernst, known as the "Three-Clawed Falcon," has retired, his style, charisma, and tactical ideas continue to profoundly influence the soldiers of the Kingdom of Wotel. The Highland Hunter Regiment is the most concrete embodiment of Marshal Zeke's "new tactics" philosophy.

"Gentlemen, there is no doubt that the plan has been very successful."

In the Lone Wolf Ridge military camp, which had changed hands, a hunter officer in a dark coat smiled at his comrades: "This is a true tactical combination of new firearms and magic. As you can see, the result is perfect... It is foreseeable that in a short time, those cowards on the plains will be completely unable to figure out our offensive rhythm."

After saying that, he turned to look at a man wearing a hood and standing straight: "Mr. Klaus, your magic and creativity are perfect. I will organize and analyze them in detail in the subsequent report. Before long, the Kingdom Medal will be hanging on your chest."

"You flatter me. There are still many loopholes, and there is a discrepancy between the theory on paper and the actual implementation, but I will improve it as soon as possible."

A metal badge hung on the chest of the mage Klaus, depicting a long and steep river valley, signifying his identity as a valley-level mage of the Law Council. However, the badge was now edged with black and gold, the national color of the Kingdom of Walter.

This means that Klaus has changed his allegiance.

"I need to check the camp's protective rituals. At dawn, the Delans may conduct routine contacts and reconnaissance, so we need to be prepared in advance."

After saying that, Klaus nodded to the others in the room, picked up his cane and spellbook, and walked outside.

After the monk left, everyone in the room breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Even the members of the Falcon Squad are still not used to communicating directly with those high and mighty mages.

The officer tugged at his coat collar: "Mr. Klaus is a nice guy, isn't he?"

He raised his hand and tapped it twice on the table, then said, “Now, we shall begin to wait. Gentlemen, please forgive me for repeating, but you and I are all loyal to the kingdom, but we have not come here to display its majesty.”

"Over the next four days, no matter what changes occur in the outside world, we only need to follow one order—keep a low profile, hold Lone Wolf Ridge, and wait for further orders."

The moment he finished speaking, everyone stood at attention, and words expressing their determination and loyalty came out of their mouths.

"Ode to the Eagle of the Plateau!"

The officer nodded, took off his hat, and placed it on the table: "Dismissed."

The giant eagle badge of the Waterloo Plateau, embedded in the military cap, gleamed with a cold light.

……

A disturbance broke out in the city of Seren last night.

Perhaps it was the speech given during the day, or perhaps it was the news from the outside world about the military exercises of the highland countries that seriously agitated the residents of the city. These residents of Seren, who were mainly of Delan descent, took to the streets, moving from south to north and from east to west.

Slogans against war, against provocation, and even against the Kingdom of Walter continued incessantly.

Hughes stood by the window.

As dawn broke, the commotion in the city was still ongoing. The area where the caravans were located was relatively quiet, but from the direction of Lovi Square, there were faint signs of fire and smoke. This development almost perfectly confirmed his earlier uneasy premonition, but Hugh was not happy at all about his "foresight".

"Perhaps... I should have defied all opposition and written a warm and idealistic worldview of passionate adventure."

Hughes thought this, but couldn't help but laugh, because he knew it was impossible.

And it's too late to regret it now.

He took a small step back, and his face was once again reflected in the glass window in front of him under the mansion's lights.

only……

In the glass mirror, Hughes's image became indistinct.

His figure and face trembled and changed constantly, appearing extremely distorted. Every now and then, he could see his own mirror image covered by black shadows, as if he himself standing here was not a real living person, but a dark ghost wandering and drifting in the human world.

"The ghost of Ernst House... Ha, once things are over here, I'll definitely change my pen name to something more sophisticated."

I'm begging for votes, I'll do anything!
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(End of this chapter)