CH 288 – It’s All Fun and War Games (Part 8)

“I thought he wasn’t mentally well enough to partake,” Augustus said, gazing at the large tent Luca and Aegus had entered. “Otherwise, why else are we here?”

By ‘we’ he meant Luca.

Even if Luca had stayed back as initially planned, Augustus would have been required to help out on the front lines. Aside from being a mentor to a promising intern, he was a battle mage. And a damn good one, despite how persistently long this particular war had dragged on.

Though, if he were being immodest, he hadn’t been stationed on the southern front in quite some time. The kingdom had two other wars that required his assistance, and the royal family had a slew of shadow battles that demanded his attention.

Thus, the tide of the southern war could potentially shift with his presence. Though Augustus was not so arrogant as to assume his appearance alone would solve a conflict that had consumed years, coin, and far too many competent and incompetent mages.

A blast sounded somewhere in the distance, low and heavy. The ground trembled beneath Augustus’s shoes, rattling the colorful bottles of various potions in a crate a few steps away from them. The air smelled of ash, metal, and battlefield medicine. The sea breeze from Gythoni did not reach this far inland.

Hira shrugged.

“Aegus insisted on coming. Bribed the therapist, even.” She glanced toward the tent flap, where the inner crimson fabric still swayed from the boys’ entrance. “Though he might be regretting it now.”

She smiled, recalling something.

“He looked like he’d puke any moment when we arrived—and after the stunt one of the new recruits pulled, he did.”

Augustus nodded and smiled, remembering his own first arrival at the front lines of a war and the deeply undignified manner in which he had emptied his stomach.

“It’s a rite of passage,” he said. “No textbook, explanation, or training can prepare you. He’ll get over it after a few weekends.”

Or he wouldn’t. Plenty of mages couldn’t stomach the brutal reality of warfare.

“Luca didn’t look fazed one bit, though,” Hira said, nodding her chin toward the tent the two students had entered.

Augustus shrugged. “Village kids. They’re built differently.”

Hira gave him a look. “Don’t give me that.”

She motioned with her long, pointed red nails toward the mages moving through the camp in matching dark uniforms. Some carried supply crates. Others hurried toward the healer tents. A few stood still, staring at the southern flashing dark skies, their faces grey beneath streaks of soot.

“We have plenty of mages from remote villages,” Hira said. “They all puked their guts out when they arrived too. Any normal person would, after seeing all this for the first time.”

As if to make her point, a cart rolled past them. A sludge of human flesh, bone, and hair quivered atop the flatbed, held together by shimmering blue stings of stabilizing spellwork. From the wailing sounds, the pink mess was still very much alive and conscious.

The two senior healers pushing the cart didn’t have expressions of urgency. It was just another day for them. And their work was never-ending.

“I think suggesting that Luca Frey is normal is a bit inaccurate,” Augustus said, returning his gaze to Hira. “I wouldn’t have taken him on as a protégé if I thought he was even remotely normal.”

Hira clicked her tongue.

“I wasn’t suggesting that he was normal. Far from it.” A smile formed on her face. “You have no idea how pleased I was when I was given responsibility for coordinating Luca’s battlefield exposure and supervised combat.”

“I can imagine,” Augustus said.

He was perfectly aware of Rosel’s disciplinary meeting and the stance Hira had taken there. She had argued for Luca to be placed on the front lines as a means of better gaining control over Void, his elemental. In less altruistic terms, she had suggested using Void’s overwhelming strength to gain an advantage over their enemy. And she had been granted authority to determine where, exactly, Luca would be stationed.

Even Augustus had little say in the matter.

Though, fortunately, he did have some sway. And he did intend to utilize it. Unlike Hira, he was a tad bit more level-headed regarding his protégé and did not wish to risk him meeting a needless and early death. That would be of no benefit.

But Augustus did share her sentiment in many ways.

Hira adjusted the brim of her oversized black pointed hat so that her eyes met his without needing to lift her chin.

“He’s in my Science and Art of Warfare course,” she said. “And his understanding of battle strategy and psychology is leaps ahead of his peers. It’s beyond impressive.”

“He’s a once-in-a-thousand-years genius, as was made evident by his entrance exam,” Augustus said.

Hira shook her head.

“Being book smart is different from facing the real thing.” Her gaze shifted toward the ruined city beyond the tents, where flashes of spellwork lit up the low dark clouds from underneath. “I thought I’d see him flinch, at least. But there was nothing. He was built for this.”

Augustus sighed.

He had more insight regarding Luca Frey than he had any intention of sharing. But admittedly, even he had raised a brow at how nonchalant the young man had been upon arrival.

He hadn't paled or grimaced at the organs protruding unnaturally out of bodies. There wasn't even so much as the widening of the eyes that people usually had when faced with the brutality of the highest magic being used to harm one another.

Luca Frey had simply looked around as if he were taking in a new city. It was an expression of extreme desensitization from the horrors of warfare. The most he had shown was disgust, as if he had accidentally stepped in goose excrement, with his sleeve flying to cover his nose.

Just what did he experience back in his own realm?

Augustus’s gaze returned to the large grey tent.

There was one piece of information he could share. Or rather, remind Hira of, since the rumors had certainly made their rounds by now.

“He completed my Nightmare Test in record time,” Augustus said. “To do so, he would have needed exceptional mental fortitude. And a strong stomach. So it really shouldn’t be that surprising.”

Hira nodded. “I heard.”

For a moment, only the noise of the camp filled the space between them. The sound of steps over broken stone. A distant shout for a healer. And another low boom from the valley.

“Augustus?”

An unfamiliar voice sounded to his right, and Hira’s expression gained a curious smile.

Augustus turned, and a young man held out what appeared to be a clear glass orb with a roll of paper inside. Augustus’ full name was scripted in gold glittering lettering across the bubble.

He narrowed his eyes and accepted the sphere after having pulled off his right glove.

The moment it touched his bare palm, the condition was met. The glass-like surface popped soundlessly, revealing the tiny rolled tube of paper inside, no larger than a child’s finger.

Satisfied, the delivery man walked away, already holding several other bubbles to deliver.

“I didn’t take you for one of those types,” Hira commented.

Augustus ignored her. He knew perfectly well what it looked like.

The one benefit of the bubble delivery method was that those subscribed to its services could send a bubble with practically only their thoughts and leave almost no trace of their involvement. While this form of communication was excellent at removing potential eyes from sensitive content, and practically everyone was subscribed to the service, it was not Augustus’s preferred method of communication with his network of spies.

And he had no doubt this note was from one of his spies.

The method was far too visually public. Bubble delivery was usually reserved for gossip, lovers, and minor scandals. Given his respectable image as a Royal Red Mage, Augustus did not care for the glances a few nearby mages and healers gave his way.

Moreover, the delivery of a bubble was unpredictable. Sometimes it was instantaneous; other times it took twelve hours. It was a poor mechanism for time-sensitive information.

But if he had received a bubble, it meant someone had used it as a last resort with no other means of sending this information without being caught.

Which meant the contents of the message were extremely high-risk, if not time-sensitive.

Augustus motioned with his hand, causing the air around his fingers to fuzz and distort in case there were curious eyes. Then he unfurled the slip of paper.

Augustus’ eyes swept over the contents. It was a pair of names.

His eyes narrowed.

He recognized them. They were the names of criminals. One of whom only a select few were supposed to know about.

Augustus rubbed his palms over the paper, reducing it to a thin puff of smoke.

He glanced toward the large grey tent Luca had entered.

Whatever Hira was planning, whatever the southern front had become, and whatever role Luca Frey was intended to play in all of it, one thing was now clear: His protégé was in far more immediate danger than either of them had suspected. Eclipse was not bothering to take their time; they were on the move.

Augustus entered the tent without another word.

“Luca?” he called.

There was no answer.

He moved through the first chamber, then the next. His eyes swept over the crimson cloth walls, gold-embedded lightstones, expensive rugs, and a half-empty bottle of medicinal wine sitting on a tall table.

However, there was no sight of Luca. Nor Aegus.

Augustus stopped beside an attendant folding linens near the rear entrance.

“The two students who came in here,” he said. “Where did they go?”

The attendant blinked. “Young Master Matrinovo said he was going to give a tour of the grounds to Luca.”

Augustus’s expression did not change.

“Of course he did,” he said softly.

The pair might have been simply wandering the grounds and chatting with new friends. But the timing couldn’t have been worse. And anything was possible on the front lines.

Still, they could not have gone far. It hadn’t been that long.

Augustus turned toward the rear opening of the tent and walked out.

At least I hope they have not.

However, as he stepped back into the gloomy outdoors, a blaring alarm tore through the camp. It was louder than any blast or shout thus far. It was sharp and repeating with bursts of four.

Every mage nearby reacted at once.

Crates dropped. Healers dragged stretchers toward the nearest tents. Soldiers in dark uniforms turned toward the valley, hands already moving to weapons and spellwork.

General Alessia stood several skulls away, barking orders at a group of uniformed mages. When her gaze caught Augustus’s, she did not waste time crossing over.

Instead, she signed with her hands.

One hand cut across her neck. Then a fist struck against her open palm. Two fingers rose. Her right palm slammed down against her left, followed by a twirl of her index and an outward motion.

Augustus understood immediately.

Two Glimver criminals had gone rogue. And not just any criminals. The woman who had once flattened an entire city. And a portal trafficker.

Evelia Maren and Peter Malvek.

The two names the bubble note had warned him about.

And Luca was nowhere in sight.

“Never a dull moment out here,” Hira said, walking up beside him. “Though they really ought to have seen it coming, bringing in those criminals….”

She sounded more pleased than concerned. Fire curled out of both her palms, gathering into bright, eager spheres.

Augustus expected nothing less from her.

During Level Four emergencies, battle mages were granted additional freedom to carry out whatever was necessary to bring down their opposition. It was an ask-for-forgiveness-rather-than-permission sort of situation. And forgiveness was expected to be generously given.

“Yes,” Augustus said, watching fire gather and grow in Hira’s hands as the alarm continued to screamed overhead. “It’s all fun and games on the frontlines.”