Chapter 182

Chapter 182. Invaders? The Strong?

After the battle,

Eli was bending down to help a soldier wounded in the leg adjust the position of his bandage.

Sticky blood stained his cuffs, but he did not seem to care at all.

After the clamor of victory on the battlefield came the heavier, more tedious work of dealing with the aftermath. Every bit of strength was precious.

“My lord.”

Buck’s steady voice sounded behind him. Eli did not stop what he was doing and merely answered, “Mm?”

“Among the prisoners, there is an old man insisting on seeing you.” Buck’s voice carried a hint of amusement. “He says he has something important that he must report to you personally.”

“Something?” Eli frowned slightly and handed the wounded soldier over to another soldier who hurried over. Then he straightened and turned toward Buck.

“What sort of old man?”

“He looks like a Wanliu man. Among the prisoners, he seems to be the one they follow,” Buck added concisely.

Eli nodded. “Lead the way.”

The prisoners had been gathered and guarded on a relatively flat stretch of open ground, with Western Frontier soldiers holding spears forming a loose ring around them.

Several hundred ragged Federation soldiers with frightened or numb expressions were curled up on the ground.

When they saw Eli and Buck arrive, especially Eli’s striking bloodstained white hair, a ripple of uneasy commotion spread through the crowd.

With several prisoners carefully supporting him, an old man dressed in an old priest’s robe slowly stood.

His robe was indeed decorated with flowing-line patterns that symbolized Wanliu City-State.

“My lord, that is him,” Buck said quietly from the side.

Leaning on the young men’s strength, Priest John staggered to a stop a few steps before Eli.

He panted faintly, raised his eyes to look at Eli, and brushed his right hand over his chest in a distinctive posture, performing the courtesy of a Wanliu priest.

“Honored lord, your prisoner, John, greets you here.”

His voice was hoarse, yet it carried a strange calm.

“This may... be counted as our second meeting.”

A cold curve appeared at the corner of Eli’s mouth, filled with undisguised mockery.

“Oh? I do not remember ever having crossed paths with you.”

Priest John did not shrink back from that cold attitude. He explained softly,

“I once beheld your... incomparable figure from afar beneath the magnificent Dragon Gate.”

The coldness in Eli’s eyes deepened, and his tone sank as well. “You participated in the Battle of Thorne.”

“Yes, my lord,” Priest John admitted calmly. “At that time, I served as the army priest of Lord Paul Botticelli, the alliance lord of that unfortunate campaign.”

The moment these words left his mouth, Buck, standing beside Eli, instantly knitted his brows. The hand that had been resting on his sword hilt tightened sharply.

So long as Eli gave the order, or if this old priest made even the slightest strange move, Buck would cut him down without hesitation.

Eli raised his hand, signaling Buck to remain calm, but his eyes continued to stare coldly at Priest John.

“If you took the risk of calling me here merely to recount that unpleasant past,

“then letting those words become your last ones would be a fitting enough end.”

An invisible killing intent spread through the air. Sensing that pressure, the surrounding prisoners all lowered their heads, not daring to look directly at him.

Priest John, however, seemed not to notice that deadly threat. He maintained that baffling calm and even shook his head gently.

“No, my lord. What I wish to say is... have you never felt curious?

“Why did we of the Federation know the affairs of the Kingdom of Orlando, especially those of the Western Frontier, so... thoroughly?”

Eli’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

This question had indeed once lingered in his mind.

Seeing the faint change in Eli’s expression, Priest John knew his words had taken effect.

He gently freed himself from the young man supporting him and took one trembling step forward.

Buck immediately moved to stop him, but Eli raised his hand again and halted him.

He wanted to see what medicine this old priest was selling in his gourd.

Priest John tottered to Eli’s side. Because of the difference in height, he had to rise slightly on his toes before he could bring his lips close to Eli’s ear.

The old priest lowered his voice. His hoarse tone drilled clearly into Eli’s ear like the whisper of a venomous serpent.

“Are you not curious, my lord? Why, back then, we were able to... take that fortress called unfallen... Storm City... so smoothly?”

BOOM—!

Those words exploded in Eli’s mind like a thunderclap.

His originally calm eyes suddenly contracted in that instant.

The fall of Storm City had been the starting point of the Western Frontier’s collapse, and its process had always been filled with doubts. Its sturdy defenses did not seem to have played the role they should have.

Eli suddenly reached out and grabbed Priest John’s thin arm. His grip was so strong that the old priest let out a pained groan.

He practically dragged the priest to a relatively secluded place nearby.

“What do you know?!” Eli’s gaze burned like a torch as he fixed it on Priest John.

Priest John drew in sharp breaths from the pain in his arm, but a nearly sly smile appeared on his face.

“My lord, I know everything... and I can tell you everything.”

“What do you want?”

Priest John withdrew his smile, and his gaze became solemn and sincere.

“Let us leave. Let us leave the Kingdom of Orlando safely. Let us... go home.”

“Go home?” Eli seemed to have heard some absurd joke.

“How many people lost their homes and loved ones forever because of what you did?

“Even if I agreed, the Western Frontier soldiers under my command would be the first to refuse! Invaders must pay the price!”

Priest John was not frightened back by Eli’s anger. He continued looking at Eli with that gentle gaze and slowly shook his head.

“Invaders? My lord, allow me to correct you... At that time, we were... the strong. At least, we were then.”

“So now you have been defeated by those stronger than you,” Eli replied coldly.

A trace of puzzlement appeared on Priest John’s face as he asked in return,

“My lord, you are a clever man. Is that not the rule of this world? The weak are prey to the strong... the winner takes all...”

Eli looked at him and, for a moment, found himself unable to refute it.

Naturally, Priest John keenly caught that instant of silence. He added softly,

“My lord, the fact that you did not cut me down at once means that, deep inside, you also somewhat...”

SWISH!

Before he could finish, a cold gleam of light was already pressed against his aged neck.

Silver’s sharp blade clung tightly to his skin, sending a bone-piercing chill through him.

Eli’s eyes became murderous again.

“There is no need to try shifting the focus with words or speculating about my thoughts.

“My patience is limited. If what you say next does not satisfy me, those words would make a rather suitable final statement.”

Priest John felt the deadly sharpness at his neck, and his body stiffened slightly. He drew in a deep breath and struggled to maintain his composure.

“My lord, we... we can join your force and use labor and battle to atone for our sins.

“When Storm City is recovered, I only beg you to let... the Wanliu men leave.

“As for me, I am willing to remain at your side and continue... offering you my loyalty until my sins are repaid.”

“You?” Eli looked him up and down, the disdain in his tone undisguised. “A dying old man? What value does your loyalty hold for me?”

“My lord, the founding monarch of your Kingdom of Orlando, the great His Majesty Caesar Aurora, once said, ‘Knowledge is a priceless wealth.’

“As it happens, over the course of my long life, I have accumulated some knowledge... that may perhaps be useful to you.”

He paused. Seeing that Eli still held the sword against him, but that the killing intent in his eyes seemed to have faded by a fraction, he immediately struck while the iron was hot and offered his sincerity.

“To show my sincerity, I can tell you a name right now—the person who guided the Battle of Thorne from behind the scenes and provided us with... a great deal of intelligence.”

Eli’s heart jolted sharply. He withdrew his sword. “Who?”

Priest John swept his gaze over the surroundings, ensuring that no one could eavesdrop. Only then did he slowly say that name.

“Bernard... Minister of Intelligence of the Kingdom of Orlando.”

He paused slightly, watching Eli’s reaction, then continued in that hoarse voice.

“My lord, he... is the one who truly understands and knows how to use the rules. The... strong one who stirs the winds and clouds from behind the curtain.”

Bernard... Minister of Intelligence of the Kingdom!

Eli’s pupils contracted again, and countless thoughts surged through his heart in an instant.

As expected! Someone inside the royal capital—and not merely anyone, but a figure on the level of a privy minister—had participated in this conspiracy that had nearly overturned the Western Frontier. This explained far too many doubts!

The shock in his heart was like a tidal wave, but Eli’s face still maintained its usual calm.

He thought swiftly, digesting this heavy piece of information while examining Priest John before him.

“How do you prove it?”

“You have no evidence. How am I supposed to believe a prisoner accusing a high minister of the kingdom?”

Priest John seemed to have prepared for this. He immediately answered, “The evidence... is inside Storm City.

“Bernard once gave Lord Paul a handwritten letter, and it bears his unique mark.

“I feared that this letter would bring disaster, so I secretly hid it away. Once Storm City falls, you will be able to find it.”

Eli stared at him for a long time. Finally, he slowly nodded, as though accepting this transaction.

However, just as a trace of relief had begun to appear on Priest John’s face, Eli made a movement that nearly terrified his soul from his body.

With a slight turn of his wrist, that longsword was once again steadily placed against Priest John’s neck, even closer than before. The icy touch made the old priest tremble uncontrollably.

“My lord! We... we had an agreement, did we not?”

Priest John’s voice finally carried a trace of irrepressible panic and trembling.

There was no expression on Eli’s face. His eyes were so deep they were impossible to see through. He merely asked in return, his tone calm yet chilling.

“Oh? I do not remember agreeing to anything with you.”

Priest John’s face instantly turned deathly pale. He opened his mouth, only to discover that under those cold eyes, he could not make a sound.

Despair drowned him in an instant like an icy tide.

Priest John closed his eyes in despair. “My lord! I...”

Just then—

“Lord Eli! Our reinforcements have arrived!”

From the distance came the Western Frontier soldiers’ cheers, filled with joy and excitement, breaking the deathly stillness and killing intent in that corner.

Eli’s gaze moved away from Priest John’s pale face and turned toward the direction of the cheers. In the distance, where dust rose into the air, familiar banners could be faintly seen.

He was silent for a moment. Then, with a turn of his wrist, he sheathed Silver with a clean swish.

The cold pressure vanished all at once, and Priest John’s legs went weak. He almost collapsed to the ground.

He panted heavily, cold sweat already soaking through his old priest’s robe.

Eli did not look at him again. He turned and walked toward the direction of the arriving reinforcements, leaving behind only one calm sentence that drifted away on the wind.

“I do not agree with you, but some of what you said is indeed correct. In this world, the strong win everything.

“But... right now, I am the strong one. Bargain with me?

“You have neither the qualification nor the room to do so...”