Real Mount and Blade Game

"As a return gift for this 'intelligence'," Shen Mu's voice carried a hint of cold mockery, "after the ballistae and arrows of New Rivadin tear apart the array of the 'Ghost Light Dynasty,' your 'purification' power... may have a brief opportunity to 'receive' those 'residues' that were swept into this place by the chaos of the spirit world and do not belong to the Blue Star world."

He was referring to the remains of those otherworldly creatures that self-dissolve in subway tunnels.

"As for the Black Arrow Tower Dynasty... it's the next target of our Deherim Legion. If you want to interfere, you'll bear the consequences." Shen Mu's tone carried a naked threat and warning: "As for your 'anchor point'... don't even think about it. The will of hell is only fit to echo in hell."

The demon messenger beneath the city walls seemed to be caught in some kind of chaotic calculation.

On that human face, the flesh twitched slightly, and the eyes lost their previous "calmness," beginning to flicker with chaotic light, as if the inner hatred and command programs were in fierce conflict.

After a long while, it seemed to regain its composure and nodded stiffly: "Information...transmission location...understood. 'Receiving residue'...consistent with expected logic."

It avoids the core condition of "anchor point," which was completely rejected, and only grasps the "sweetness" given by Shen Mu, revealing its greed and avoidance of the important issues under its chaotic logic: "Cooperation... initial framework... achieved."

Its body began to tremble slightly, the human skin seeming to become even more unstable, as if the thing inside was struggling to break free of its restraints: "Then... I look forward to...your...thunderous wrath...descending upon...those...undead..."

Its voice became intermittent, mixed with inhuman hissing.

Having said that, it stopped and, with a strange posture that was completely different from human walking, with its joints bent backwards, stiffly turned around and slowly retreated into the deepening twilight. Soon it blended into the shadows of the desert and disappeared, as if it had never existed.

A cold wind carrying the smell of sulfur swept across the city wall.

Bertusel stared in the direction the messenger had disappeared, and spat out a curse: "Damn it! Just watching that bastard talking while wearing human skin made me want to throw up my dinner from last night!"

Rezarit's expression was extremely grave: "My lord, they will never be content with simply providing information. This coordinate and data are of dubious authenticity and may very well contain fatal misleading information."

Elaine nodded in agreement: "They agreed too 'quickly.' Especially since you, sir, rejected their core demand, they must have ulterior motives."

Shen Mu gazed into the darkness where the envoy had disappeared, his deep eyes as still as a frozen pool, utterly undisturbed.

“I know.” His voice was deep and powerful.

"Living next to hell is an endless war in itself. We must be ten times more vigilant in discerning every piece of information they give us. The 'olive branch' they extend is in essence a poisoned dagger."

Shen Mu turned his head slightly to look at the three capable generals, a cold smile seemingly curving his lips: "But... the devil is willing to send information about its mortal enemy, whether true or false, whether it contains many traps... this in itself is the most authentic information."

His words resonated deeply: "It at least proves that the 'Crimson Claw' fears the Undead Dynasty far outweighs its current probing of New Rivadin. The tighter the Undead Dynasty's information blockade of its core nodes, the more valuable it proves. The devil's eagerness to use our blade to slay the undead also confirms our previous judgment—there is some fundamental, irreconcilable antagonism between them. This... is the 'truth' we can exploit."

A cold, intelligent glint flashed in Shen Mu's eyes: "Go and gather intelligence. Then, dissect it layer by layer, like poison. There's truth within falsehood, and within falsehood... there must also be truth. Combine it with the information we've gathered ourselves, and compare the two."

He looked at Rezarit and Eleanor: "Strengthen night patrols, especially near the subway entrance! The appearance of the devil's messenger will not go unnoticed by the minions of the undead. They have been silent for several days, they must have something to do."

He spoke again: "Betusir!"

“Yes!” Bertus immediately straightened his back.

"Your men, go forward and keep watch over the area where the messenger disappeared. Maintain your distance and only observe for any energy fluctuations or signs of undead approaching."

Shen Mu's command was clear and cold: "Tonight is the crucial night. The appearance of the devil is not the end, but the clarion call before an even greater storm. We will see in the eye of this storm who can use whose hand to carve a path through the tides of the spirit world."

His gaze swept across the increasingly dark desert, like the gaping maw of hell: "Whoever wants to cross the threshold of New Zivadin... will have to leave behind enough bone fragments!"

Night fell completely over New Rivadin, and the firelight on the city walls flickered in the gale, like a beacon holding fast to the last vestiges of order and hope.

The soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, their expressions solemn.

Shen Mu turned around and strode towards the main building of the castle.

New intelligence, new challenges, and a new round of offensive and defensive maneuvering has begun.

His brief encounter with hell was merely a prelude to this long war.

The real showdown is yet to come.

……

Dusk completely swallowed the wasteland, and the wind swirled sand and gravel, pounding against the stone walls of New Rivadin, making a continuous rustling sound.

The torches on the city wall struggled to tear a small, flickering patch of light through the thick darkness, illuminating the desolate, undead territory below and the air that had just been tainted by the aura of hell.

A faint smell of sulfur and burnt lingered, a reminder of the chilling negotiations that took place.

Bestur's jaw muscles tightened, his teeth clenched, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the quiver tightly.

His eyes burned with fury that seemed to pierce the darkness in the direction the messenger had disappeared, and a suppressed low voice rolled in his throat: "Beasts in human skin... next time, arrows will be fed into their eye sockets."

Rezarit's voice was deep and steady, like steel soaked in ice water: "The other side retreated too readily. It seems there must be poison in the intelligence they gave us. They don't want the scraps in the tunnel. My lord, this intelligence is probably a trap wrapped in honey."

Shen Mu did not respond.

He stood at the edge of the battlements, his figure as still as a mountain at the boundary between firelight and darkness, his cloak motionless in the wind carrying sand.

The direction in which the demon's messenger retreated was so deep it seemed to lead straight to hell.

The orders were issued in a military-style manner, passing down through the ranks.

"Raise the alert level at the East Gate to the highest level." Shen Mu spoke, his voice not loud but clear enough to penetrate the wind. "Resarit, set up two sentry posts, and add a reconnaissance team to each of the high points on the east and west dunes. Equip them with incendiary arrows and focus on monitoring any unusual situations. Also, add two Holy Tree Knights to each round of sentries at the underground exit. The mithril reaction is a key barrier against stealth units."

"Yes!" Rezarit responded in a deep voice, and immediately turned to give tactical hand signals to the officer on duty below the city.

The creaking of the chainmail rings quickly faded into the distance, accompanied by a low, commanding tone.

"Eleanor".

“My lord!” Eleanor stood up, his hand on his chest.

"Vekia archers, on a squad rotation basis, increase armor-piercing arrow quota by 50%. All light ballistae are ready to fire, set elevation and depression scales to cover the entire sector from the East Gate to the subway entrance." Shen Mu's gaze swept over the area below the city walls swallowed by the night: "Tonight, be vigilant for any moving targets. Anyone approaching within 150 paces of the perimeter line will be shot without warning."

"Understood!" A sharp glint flashed in Eleanor's eyes. He leaned on his sword and strode quickly toward the arrow tower. His gestures were silent, and the Vaegir archers quickly adjusted their firing positions, the ballista winches emitting a slight taut sound.

Shen Mu finally turned to Bestur, whose muscles were still taut, and said in a voice that left no room for doubt: "Have your steppe bandits withdraw from their patrols and hold the edge of the city walls' visible range. The objective is not to engage in battle, but to bring back intelligence alive. Pay special attention to the direction the messenger left in, watch for ground tremors, and retreat immediately if any group of what appears to be bone armor cavalry gathers."

Bestur took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the murderous intent surging in his eyes. His chest heaved twice beneath his armor, and he said in a hoarse voice, "Yes, sir!"

He turned abruptly and fired a short, sharp hawk whistle toward the Khergit cavalry below the city, carrying a resolute order to retreat.

The cold air hung heavy in the main hall of the castle.

A rough parchment map lay spread out on a heavy oak table, next to the coordinates of the "intelligence" location specified by the messenger before his disappearance.

"We need to be careful."

Shen Mu shifted his gaze to the somber night sky outside the window. "The fact that the devils came to talk proves that their fear of the undead far exceeds their direct probing of us. The core information about the undead's internal defenses must involve some hidden forces powerful enough to threaten the devils." He walked to the wall, his fingertips tracing the cold stone, feeling its rough texture. "Whether the intelligence itself is true or false is secondary. What matters is that they need us to receive, analyze, and even utilize this information. That motive... is the core."

"Use us to fight the undead?" Eleanor frowned.

“Mutual attrition is the norm.” Shen Mu turned around, his eyes reflecting the flickering firelight: “They want New Rivadin to become the millstone that grinds the dead, and so do we. It’s just a matter of who can sharpen their blade faster and avoid the other’s clutches.”

He stood firm, his voice leaving no room for doubt: "From this moment forward, New Rivadin enters a period of full alert. The duty roster is shortened, and any outpost detecting any unusual energy release—whether it be black light, green fire, or sulfurous scorch marks—is immediately placed on high alert. The blades of hell and the undead are about to fall. What we must do is ensure that their first strikes collide with each other's blades."

The night was as dark as ink.

At the top of the towering northern watchtower, two Vaegir archers, clad in thick camouflage cloaks, huddled in their observation positions.

There was no conversation, only the sharp whistling sound of the wind blowing through the gaps in the tower.

Behind the crenellations of the city wall.

The Vigia archer leaned against the cold stone wall, a felt blanket half-covering his knees, with specially made heavy arrows piled up beside him.

They did not fall asleep, but simply closed their eyes and regulated their breathing, like sharp blades sheathing their swords.

Every fifteen minutes, the patrol passes by, the only sound being the faintest friction of the armor, like frost forming on iron.

Deep inside the main city tower.

Shen Mu stood alone by the observation window.

The defensive lights below the city outlined the iron-gray silhouettes of the barricades and trap arrays, beyond which lay pure darkness.

He was thinking.

Will the devil send poison or a key?
Where is the guillotine of the dead hidden beneath the sand?
These questions weighed heavily on the depths of his mind.

Strategists are in no hurry to reveal their hand.

The night is the hunting ground for patience.

He waited to see if the ripples stirred up by the crimson claws could force the undead lurking in the darkness to reveal their fatal flaws.

The bonfire on the city wall flickered in the wind.

Shen Mu's figure blended into the deeper shadows, like a silent ancient bronze shield nailed into the eye of a storm.

As he stood there, the towers, barricades, sentries, and soldiers—all the cold, rigid defensive systems—gained an invisible, supportive backbone.

The sharpness and resilience of New Rivadin are silently honed in the dead of night.

Bestur's rough eagle whistle circled briefly in the night wind, like a call for a falcon to return to its nest.

Soon, five figures as swift as sand foxes slid out from the shadows of the city wall and deftly mounted their horses.

They were the most skilled grassland bandits under Bestur's command, adept at covert reconnaissance and tracking, accustomed to sniffing out danger in the dead of night and disappearing without a trace before the storm arrives.

"Target: southeast, the devil's messenger disappearing behind the dune ridge."

Bestur's deep, hoarse voice rang out from the battlements, reaching the ears of the five men precisely across the sandstorm a hundred meters away.

His finger, sharp as a blade, pointed in the direction where the messenger had finally disappeared into the darkness: "Don't go near! Eagle Eye, find out where it buried it. Once you've confirmed it, wait until it's completely gone before retrieving it. If it buried it in more than one place... mark all the points, and only retrieve the parchment at the agreed coordinates. Be careful when digging, and don't let anything go wrong."

His words carried the unique battlefield survival wisdom of the Khergits and their instinctive wariness of the creations of hell: "Once you get it, bring it back immediately and give it directly to the lord."

"Yes, sir!" The leader of the bandit squad shouted in a low voice, his face covered with a dirty windproof cloth, revealing only a pair of sharp, hawk-like black eyes.

Without needing to say more, the five of them seemed to merge into one. The small grassland warhorses took almost silent, quick steps, using the undulating sand dunes to blend into the deepening night.

They had no torches, and the Kujit could see as clearly as in daylight under the stars.

Time flowed slowly in the oppressive wait.

On the city wall, the campfire flickered, and Shen Mu still stood like a statue, his gaze piercing through the darkness, sensing the unknown waves in the distance.

Rezarit and Ellen had each gone to carry out orders to reinforce the city's defenses, and the subtle sounds of mobilizing soldiers could be clearly heard in the tense atmosphere.

Bestur paced back and forth beside Shen Mu, like a ferocious beast bound by chains, his heavy breathing accompanied by violent snorting.

About half an hour later, a short, peculiar hissing sound, similar to that of a desert lizard rubbing against a hard object, came from outside the city.

Bestur froze, straining to listen, a fierce glint in his eyes as he looked at Shen Mu: "Sir, the signal has come. They've found the location, retrieved the item, and are returning." (End of Chapter)