Real Mount and Blade Game

His fingers unconsciously rubbed the hilt of the sword, the faint light from the movement almost imperceptible.

“Let’s wait and see. Our position and target remain concealed. The real threat… may be waiting for us to make a move and expose ourselves. Bestur, expand the outer perimeter to ensure that no third pair of ‘eyes’ are watching us in the dark.”

"Yes!"

Bestur immediately suppressed his agitation and understood Shen Mu's deeper meaning.

He made a few brief hand gestures, and the bandits who had already dispersed on the outer perimeter disappeared silently behind the dunes like fish swimming into a sea of ​​sand, heading towards a more distant and darker direction.

The wind on the dunes seemed to have weakened a bit, and the air became even hotter and more stuffy.

In the distance, the cracking of bone fragments and the dull thuds of impacts continued, but the voices of the skeleton cavalry were growing weaker and weaker.

Those dozen or so struggling, ghostly green soul flames eventually dimmed and went out one by one amidst the endless tide of gray bones and the rain of corrosive arrows.

The battlefield gradually fell silent, leaving only the sound of the wind blowing sand and dust across the silently standing skeletal archers.

Their eye sockets turned toward the direction of New Rivadin, their soul fires deep and dark.

Then, like the receding tide of black seawater, these skeletal archers began to retreat in an organized manner, disappearing back into the shadows of the undulating sand dunes, leaving behind only a mess of broken bones and sand stained with blood and strange slime.

As Shen Mu gazed at the scorched plain that was rapidly returning to deathly silence, the icy coldness deep within his pupils did not melt in the slightest despite the defeat of his enemy.

The tactical discipline and battlefield responsiveness of these skeletal archers once again refreshed his understanding of the Black Arrow Tower dynasty.

Their retreat was not a rout, but rather a re-concealment after achieving their objective.

And the losses of the Ghostly Dynasty...

“These skeleton cavalry are nothing more than expendable supplies.” Shen Mu’s voice was low, as if stating a cold fact: “The real ‘bone armor cavalry’… the elite that can unleash ‘ghostly light’ is still in the shadows.”

He turned to face the direction of New Zivadin and tightened the reins: "Back to town. Bestur, tell your outer sentries to be on high alert. Rezarit, you must reinforce the fortifications at the metro entrance as quickly as possible."

The sacred tree-mounted steed strode forward with steady steps. The faint glow of mithril appeared unusually restrained under the blazing sunlight, yet it contained a chilling sharpness.

The walls of New Rivadin drew ever closer into view, yet everyone knew in their hearts that the undercurrents beneath this scorched earth were surging ever more fiercely.

A true crisis is like a lurking beast, waiting for the most dangerous moment to unleash its deadly fangs.

……

New Zivadin Castle cast a huge shadow in the dim twilight, like a lurking beast.

On the battlements, the fortified works and the increased garrison, under the supervision of Rezarit for days, have begun to take shape.

The weary yet solemn soldiers had just finished their shift change. The campfire crackled and burned in the corner, dispelling the growing chill and the lingering anxiety in the air.

Shen Mu had just returned from the sand dune observation post outside the city, his armor still bearing the rough feel of the wind and sand.

He stood at the lookout point of the main city tower, his gaze calmly sweeping across the desolate desert outside the city. In the twilight, the huge gap at the subway station entrance looked like a hideous wound on the earth.

Rezarit and Ellen were quietly checking the city defense blueprints, while Bestur crossed his arms, his hawk-like eyes scanning for any possible movement.

The atmosphere was oppressive and heavy, with the shadow of those three forces hanging over everyone's mind.

"My lord!" A hurried but low voice broke the silence on the city wall.

A Swadian light infantryman jogged up the city wall and knelt on one knee: "A hundred meters outside the east gate, someone... someone requests an audience! He demands to speak with the lord!"

"A person?" Bestur scoffed, his brows furrowing. "In this godforsaken place, at this hour? Someone's here?"

The Swadian light infantryman who reported swallowed hard, his voice tinged with disbelief: "He said... he claimed to have come from across the Little Ron River, and was... was a 'messenger of the devil'."

The air seemed to freeze in an instant.

“A demon messenger?” Rezarit put down the blueprints, a clear look of astonishment flashing across his usually composed face for the first time.

Eleanor instinctively gripped the hilt of the knight's sword at his waist.

Shen Mu slowly turned around, his expression unchanged, but his eyes were sharp as ice spikes piercing through the twilight.

"What do you look like?" His voice was deep and steady.

“He looked…he looked like a middle-aged man, wearing…very ordinary old clothes, even a bit tattered.” The light infantryman tried to recall, his face filled with confusion and fear: “But…but it felt…very wrong. He was very calm, too calm, and in that desert…he appeared very suddenly, without any movement around him.”

"Where is he?" Shen Mu asked.

"About a hundred paces outside the city gate, he stood alone on a sandy field."

"Let's go take a look." Shen Mu said succinctly, and took the lead towards the eastern city wall.

Rezarit, Bestur, and Ellen followed closely behind, everyone on edge.

Climb up the east battlement and look down following the soldier's directions.

Under the dim light of the day, a middle-aged man wearing a worn-out jacket and work pants stood quietly a hundred meters away.

He was thin and frail, with an ordinary face, even bearing a rough look from being exposed to the elements, like a refugee fleeing a war.

However, this very "ordinariness" appears incredibly eerie in the heart of a desolate desert, inhabited by either the dead or demons.

"..." Bestur gritted his teeth, his voice squeezed out from between his teeth, "They're just scum in human skin! I can smell it, that stench of sulfur seeping from between their bones mixed with the stench of rotting flesh! Even from a hundred paces away, I can smell it clearly!"

His beast-like intuition made the most direct judgment in an instant.

Because the Kujit people also had the custom of skinning people to intimidate their enemies, he immediately recognized this obviously strange expression as that of a devil in human skin!
Rezarit's eyes were cold as he nodded and said in a deep voice, "There's no mistake, this skin is just a container, and the inside is definitely not human. A demon... how could it be able to so 'perfectly' simulate a human form? And even come to us on its own initiative?" The information behind this sent a chill down the spine of this experienced veteran.

Elaine didn't speak, but his sharp eyes were fixed on the "person," and the knuckles of his fingers gripping the knife hilt turned slightly white from the force.

He sensed a deeper threat—not just power, but also the ability to deceive and infiltrate.

Shen Mu's gaze lingered for a moment on the face of that fellow human being from Blue Star, and something heavy seemed to flash across his deep eyes.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, then raised his right hand and decisively made a clear downward gesture.

hum!
The faint sounds of bowstrings loosening and crossbow mechanisms locking echoed from both sides of the city wall.

The light ballistae on the tower, gleaming with a cold light, stopped adjusting their aiming baselines, and the Vaegir archers, bowmen, and Khergit bandits, who were poised to fire behind the crenellations, slowly lowered their arrows.

The deadly threat was temporarily suppressed.

But the taut bowstring and the cold muzzle remained poised to spew death at any moment.

The entire east wall, like a ferocious beast that has sheathed its fangs but bared its claws, silently looked down at the messenger below.

"You people below." Shen Mu's voice wasn't loud, but it was like ice striking, piercing through a hundred meters with crystal clarity, echoing across the empty desert, carrying a penetrating power beyond human voice: "State your purpose. A false opening will only turn you into a stain on the sand immediately."

His words were devoid of any emotional fluctuation; they were simply a statement of a fact.

The "devil's messenger" below the city seemed to tremble very slightly, as if some force in the voice had pierced through his skin.

A stiff, almost rigid smile appeared on the middle-aged man's face. His voice was like two rough pieces of leather rubbing together, strangely calm in tone:
"Great human lord, the malice of hell has disturbed the order of your rule. I apologize on behalf of the 'Crimson Claws'." Its honorifics were used with unusual fluency, even excessive humility, but its tone was flat and without any inflection, devoid of any genuine emotion, as if reciting a proclamation: "My lord has discerned that your mighty fortress is being coveted by two corrupt wills from the 'Necromantic Dynasty'—the skeletal hoof of the 'Second Dynasty of the Darklight' and the rotten claw of the 'Seventh Dynasty of the Black Arrow Tower'."

It paused slightly, and the eyes on that face belonging to the Blue Star people shifted, as if to confirm the reaction on the city wall, but the focus of the pupils shifted slightly abnormally.

"Their greed is insatiable; their goal is not merely to bring this rich convergence of psychic energy into their desolate territory, but also to completely erase you, a being that shines with the light of order. Therefore... my lord proposes to establish a short-term, mutually beneficial covenant."

“‘Crimson Claw’?” Rezarit repeated the title in a low voice, his eyes serious.

"A contract? A contract with the devil?" Bestur almost roared, his eyes bloodshot. "You son of a bitch! I'll skin you alive!"

He suddenly drew an armor-piercing arrow, nocked it on the bowstring, pulled it halfway, pointed the arrowhead at the messenger below, and let out a threatening growl.

To come here dressed in human skin and ask to enter into a contract is simply to disregard them!
Shen Mu glanced at him, and although Bestur's chest was still heaving with anger, he forcibly suppressed his rage and the bowstring.

Eleanor stared intently at the envoy and said coldly, "Are they stalling for time? Or are they probing our strength?"

The messenger seemed completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere on the city walls, or perhaps utterly incapable of truly understanding human anger.

It continued speaking in that strange, flat voice:

"Yes, the covenant. My lord promises to provide you with the precise location of those two core nodes of the undead dynasty, as well as the operating rules and weaknesses of the unique abilities of their key bone-armored cavalry and archers. Even... we can cooperate to tear apart their lines and channel your powerful forces to deliver a fatal blow. In return..."

It finally revealed its true purpose: "My Lord only wishes that, after the battle is over and the defilement of this place has been cleansed, you would generously allow my Lord's 'purifying' power—deep within that subway tunnel—to establish a temporary…small anchor point for observing the convergence of spirits. A small window that will not interfere with the order of your fortress."

It even mimicked a human's tiny gesture, its movements stiff as a puppet.

"Bullshit!" Bertusel could no longer contain himself and shouted angrily, "Let you filthy things dig holes in my doorstep?! Dream on!"

If Shen Mu hadn't suppressed it, his arrow would have almost left the bowstring.

Bestur has a bad temper.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have chosen to leave the Khujit Khanate out of anger, and even offended the Great Khan of the Khujit Khanate, which is a capital offense.

Rezarit analyzed to Shen Mu in a deep voice: "Sir, the 'anchor point' they want is far more than just an observation station! That subway tunnel goes deep underground, connecting to unknown nodes in the spirit world. Once they gain a foothold, it's like inserting a key into our heart! The so-called 'observation' will soon become a bridgehead for infiltration! Its harm is no less than that of the undead infesting the area!"

Elaine added, "Their proposals are fraught with traps. Sharing information? Perhaps some of it is true, but it's bound to be a deadly inducement. And how can they guarantee they won't stab us in the back while we're cooperating? And why are they so eager to eliminate the undead? Is the power of the necromancers a greater threat to them?"

Shen Mu listened quietly to the generals' analysis, his gaze never leaving the devilish messenger.

In his eyes, that human skin was like a poorly made specimen placed over an inner essence filled with sulfur and hatred.

The stark sense of incongruity and the hellish chill were striking.

The silence lasted for several breaths, like a heavy lead weight pressing on the hearts of everyone on the city wall.

Only the howling wind sweeping across the sand and the crackling of the campfire could be heard. Finally, Shen Mu spoke again, his voice colder than the desert night wind:

"devil."

He used no honorifics, addressing them by their first names: "Your skin is repulsive, and your words are full of sulfurous lies."

The envoy's stiff smile seemed to freeze.

Shen Mu's voice was icy cold, carrying an undeniable pressure: "Allies? You are not worthy. Making deals with hell will only drag you down to hell in the end."

He paused, his sharp gaze seemingly able to pierce through the human skin and see directly into its twisted nature: "But... I do have a strong interest in tearing apart those undead skeletons."

These words startled Rezarit and the others.

Bertusel looked at Shen Mu with a puzzled expression.

Shen Mu continued, "Your proposal can be implemented in a different way."

His words were sharp and clear: "Before noon tomorrow, deliver the exact coordinates of the 'Ghostlight Dynasty' bone armor cavalry core's encampment, along with the specific conditions limiting their 'black light' eruption, to the location I designate—the marked spot in the sand fifty paces west of the city gate. Only the information is required; none of your kind must approach New Rivadin even half a step. Those who disobey… will be reduced to ashes." (End of Chapter)