Novel Full Chapter 402: Things Will Go Smoothly
Chapter 402: Things Will Go Smoothly
Woooooosh~
The wind funneled through the narrow pass, stirring dust at the hooves of Fenrir’s steady gait.
The massive wolf slowed instinctively, hackles raised, his eyes tracking the fifteen armed figures blocking the road.
They stood in formation, not like bandits but like soldiers drilled to move as one. The crimson insignia on their armor—a hawk clutching a spear—glinted faintly in the waning sunlight. Their discipline was unsettlingly neat; no shifting feet, no nervous glances. These were not men unused to combat.
Damien stepped down from the carriage, boots crunching against gravel. He made no move to draw his blade, but his very presence carried the quiet confidence of a predator who knew exactly where he stood in the food chain.
Arielle followed, calm but cautious, her staff resting at her side. Lyone lingered behind, watching nervously from the carriage seat.
The man at the forefront raised his weapon in salute, his voice carrying the clipped cadence of authority as he declared a second time.
“Travelers. Identify yourselves.”
Damien regarded him carefully. His aura was tightly suppressed, but Damien’s senses were sharp enough to peel back the veil. This man—stronger than Arielle by a fair margin, but still not someone who would trouble Damien. The others behind him carried varying levels of power, but none beyond Gold Rank. Arielle could handle them individually if needed, though not easily.
Damien tucked the evaluation into his mind and reached into his coat. Without hesitation, he pulled free a polished black card engraved with sigils of recognition—his mercenary ID. He held it up for them to see.
“The name’s Damien,” he said evenly. “Mercenary. Licensed and registered.”
Arielle mirrored his action, revealing her own credentials.
The spear-bearer’s eyes shifted to Lyone, who remained frozen in the carriage. “And the boy?”
Damien’s lips quirked faintly. “My younger brother. Doesn’t yet carry identification.”
A brief silence followed. The man’s eyes lingered on Lyone’s long hair and green irises, then flicked back to Damien’s silver hair and calm blue eyes. Suspicion lingered faintly. The resemblance wasn’t there.
Still, Damien’s tone had left no room for debate.
After a long pause, the soldier finally lowered his spear slightly. “We are the advance group of the Delwig armed forces,” he said. “Our task is to intercept, investigate, and report anomalies before they threaten the kingdom.”
The man paused for a moment to make sure Damien and the others understood the messages he’d just passed to them before he continued. “In recent days, demons and corrupted mana beasts attempted to breach these lands. Since then, our orders have been to question every outsider who travels the main road.”
His tone softened faintly, though the edge of vigilance remained. “If our methods seem strict, it is only because blood was spilled not long ago.”
Arielle stiffened at his words. “You fought them off?”
The man nodded once. “We did. A horde, no less. They fell by steel and spell. None breached our defenses.”
Damien arched a brow. “You ’wiped them all out.’” His voice carried no awe, no praise. Only a clinical weight. “Interesting.”
The man studied him in return. “You don’t seem surprised.”
“Should I be?” Damien asked, tilting his head slightly. “Strange things are spreading beyond where they should. In Greshan, we faced demons that moved unlike anything in the old records. And just days ago, we encountered a beast infused with something it should never have touched. If your men faced more of those, you should count yourselves fortunate you all returned alive.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Infused? You believe them unnatural?”
Damien’s gaze sharpened. “No belief. Fact. I’ve seen them up close. These things aren’t wild demons. They feel… manufactured. Experimented upon.” He let the words hang in the air like a quiet accusation against some faceless hand.
A ripple passed through the line of soldiers. Whispers threatened to rise before the leader silenced them with a sharp glance.
He exhaled through his nose, then nodded. “You speak with certainty. That troubles me. I am Apnoch, captain of this advance group.” He straightened his weapon, a staff a little longer than usual, then inclined his head slightly. “If your words are true, then the threat is greater than we were told.”
Damien shrugged lightly. “It changes nothing for me. An enemy is an enemy. But you’ll want to ask yourselves why experiments of that scale would find their way to your borders.”
Apnoch’s jaw tightened. “Perhaps you know more than you let on.”
Damien smiled faintly. “Perhaps.”
Their eyes locked for a moment—Apnoch’s sharp, testing, Damien’s cool and unreadable. Then Apnoch broke the tension with a sigh.
“Very well. You are no enemy. If you seek Delwig, allow me to lead you. The kingdom’s gates are still a few dozen miles north, but we know these roads better than anyone. Safer to travel together.”
It was then that Apnoch’s gaze flicked past Damien—past Arielle—and landed on the massive shadow crouched just beyond the carriage. Fenrir’s eyes glowed faintly amidst the darkness, his breath a low rumble. Though the wolf exuded no aura at all, his size alone dwarfed the carriage he pulled, and the faint ripple of essence around him betrayed something far from ordinary.
Apnoch’s hand twitched slightly on his spear. He recognized power when he saw it. But instead of voicing suspicion, he swallowed it down, burying it beneath the facade of calm professionalism.
Damien noted the flicker in his eyes and inclined his head faintly in acknowledgment. Neither man spoke of it.
Instead, Damien extended a hand. “Then we thank you for the escort, Captain Apnoch.”
Apnoch clasped it briefly, the grip firm, and turned to his men. “Form up. We march.”
The line of soldiers parted to flank the carriage, forming a protective vanguard and rearguard as they resumed their path. Fenrir padded forward, dragging the carriage with effortless strength.
As the road stretched ahead toward Delwig, the uneasy alliance settled into silence—Damien and his companions drawn deeper into the kingdom’s shadow, Apnoch casting cautious glances at the wolf, and Damien himself already weighing the meaning of experiments, hordes, and the blood that surely awaited further north.
“I have a feeling things will go smoothly.” He said through a grin.