Chapter 270 Farewell, Marquess
The messenger returned, his face filled with concern. “Marquess, the Barlia camp has also suffered a loss of rations,” he informed Hector, his voice tinged with worry.
Hector’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information. “Did they see where these infiltrators went?” he asked urgently, hoping to gather any clue that could lead them to the culprits.
The messenger nodded. “People in Barlia said these infiltrators were last seen moving to the south,” he replied, his tone revealing the gravity of the situation.
“South…” Hector repeated, his mind racing with possibilities. “If they are heading in that direction, does that mean they are going back to Szazki?”
The urgency in Marquess Hector’s voice reverberated through the camp. It was evident that their pursuit of the infiltrators had just begun, and the stakes had never been higher.
The fate of this campaign hung in the balance, and swift action was paramount.
Since most of his soldiers are fighting together with Barlia, the camp is only left with a limited number of soldiers within the camp.
Nonetheless, Hector knew they had to make the best of the resources at hand.
“We cannot waste a moment,” Hector declared, his voice resolute. “Gather every available soldier. We are heading to Lonsbak to check the situation. We will track down these infiltrators and put an end to them.”
The soldiers nodded in agreement, their expressions mirroring the gravity of the situation.
Soldiers scrambled to arm themselves and join the gathering formation. The camp buzzed with frenetic energy as they prepared for the journey ahead.
With their ranks bolstered by the soldiers remaining in the camp, the determined group set out towards Szazki as their first destination. Hector knew they needed to rally more soldiers before proceeding to Lonsbak, where the infiltrators were suspected to come from.
Marching south with urgency, their pace quickened as they covered the distance between the encampment and Szazki. The landscape blurred as they passed through villages and fields, their focus fixed on the task at hand.
Upon entering the city of Szazki the next day, Hector’s eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the sight of the city. The atmosphere appeared almost normal at first glance, undisturbed by the change in power.
Groups of soldiers could be seen patrolling the streets with an air of authority, their armour and weapons gleaming in the morning sunlight. They moved in disciplined formations, exuding an intimidating presence that served as a constant reminder of their control. The sound of their boots echoed against the cobblestones, marking their territory with each step.
Some soldiers stood guard at strategic locations, their watchful eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of resistance or dissent. They were vigilant, ready to quell any disturbances and maintain order under Inverloch’s rule.
Market stalls that were once bustling with activity were now under the watchful eye of Inverloch soldiers. Fear and tension hung in the air as the residents of Szazki went about their daily routines.
Wasting no time, Hector navigated through the busy streets to the city centre, searching for the officer he had entrusted to manage the city. Shortly after, Hector reached the temporary office, a sturdy stone building nestled within the heart of Szazki.
Pushing open the heavy door, he stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room in search of the officer he had entrusted with this crucial responsibility.
But as his eyes settled on the figure before him, a jolt of surprise surged through his veins, freezing him momentarily in his tracks. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat.
Before him stood a figure, but it was not the officer he had appointed.
“Who are you?!” Hector exclaimed, his voice betraying a mixture of shock and disbelief. His brows furrowed, his features contorting with a mix of confusion and concern.
But before he could react, a chilling voice filled the room. “Surprise!” Mayor Lazo sneered, his words dripping with malice and deceit as pull out his loaded rifle.
In an instant, Hector’s instincts kicked in. His body tensed as he sense the incoming danger. .
Bang!-
The deafening sound of a gunshot shattered the air. Hector’s world turned upside down.
The searing pain tore through his body as the bullet found its mark.
His vision blurred, and his legs gave way beneath him, collapsing to the ground in a crumpled heap. Blood pooled around him, staining the floor.
Agony coursed through his veins, but Hector clung to consciousness. With every breath he painstakingly take, he fought to stay focused amidst the excruciating pain.
“You didn’t expect that, aren’t you?” asked the mayor.
Marquess Hector gave him a confused stare. He couldn’t comprehend what was going on.
The mayor smirked, revelling in the Hector’s stunned silence. “You see, Marquess, we have taken over this city,” he explained, his voice dripping with deceit. “We disguised as Inverloch soldiers and infiltrated your ranks. Then, we strike at the moment they didn’t expect. The soldiers you see outside are mostly Ryntum in disguise.”
A surge of anger welled up within Hector, his pain momentarily forgotten. He gritted his teeth, “You… will not… escape,” he rasped, his voice weakened.
The mayor’s grin widened, “Oh, Marquess, you said the same thing as that one young man. However, without any food, your army won’t last long. It is only a matter of time before they were defeated.”
The mayor’s words struck a nerve and Marquess Hector found himself momentarily speechless. The realization of their dire predicament weighed heavily upon him.
“You really should have stayed in the south and enjoyed your life. Anyway, farewell, Marquess.” he mocked before giving Hector a second shot in the chest, ending the imperial noble’s life forever.
Outside the temporary office, chaos ensued. The Inverloch soldiers who had accompanied the Marquess were either apprehended or killed in the ensuing confrontation.
At the same time, the Inverloch flag, which had defiantly fluttered in the wind for so long, was forcefully torn down and replaced by the red flag of the kingdom of Ryntum.
The power dynamic had irrevocably shifted, once again.
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