Novel Full Chapter 430: Leaving At Dawn
Chapter 430: Leaving At Dawn
The interrogation chamber beneath Delwig’s military quarter was built of stone thick enough to drown screams. Torches hissed in the corners, shadows dancing across the rough walls.
Damien stood by the far end of the room, his arms crossed, while General Ivaan paced slowly before the kneeling prisoners — three men in guard armor, their helmets set aside, their faces beaten and pale. Captain Apnoch stood off to the side, arms folded, eyes sharp as razors.
“So,” Ivaan began, his voice cold, “you three were stationed on the southern wall when the breach occurred?”
“Yes, sir,” one stammered. “We—we didn’t see the beasts until they were already on the walls—”
“Liar.”
The word came from Damien — low, flat, and final.
The man froze.
Ivaan glanced sideways at Damien. “You’re certain?”
Damien stepped forward. His boots scraped against the stone as he circled the three prisoners like a predator studying prey. “I checked the wall myself, remember? The ladder marks, the scorch residue — it all came from inside the city side of the wall. These creatures didn’t climb from the outside.” This was a lie. Some had crawled in and Damien knew. He simply wanted to confirm something from these prisoners.
One of the prisoners swallowed. “You’re saying—”
“I’m saying,” Damien interrupted, “that the breach began from within. And you three were conveniently on watch.”
Apnoch’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t explain how they got through without raising an alarm. Unless—”
He didn’t need to finish. The implication hung in the air, heavy and poisonous.
Damien crouched in front of the middle prisoner. “Tell me,” he said softly, “how much were you paid?”
The man shook his head frantically. “We—we didn’t—”
Damien’s hand moved faster than thought, gripping the man’s chin and forcing his face up. His eyes glowed faintly — a ripple of mana stirring behind them, cold and suffocating.
“I’m not in the mood for rehearsed lies.”
The room’s air thickened, even Ivaan’s soldiers shifting uncomfortably. The prisoner’s breath quickened — his lips trembled as if fighting against an invisible weight.
Finally, he choked out, “We were told—just to delay the alarm! We didn’t know what they’d do after—”
Damien released him abruptly. “Who told you?”
“We—we didn’t see his face. He wore a mask, same kind those underground fighters had!”
Apnoch’s eyes narrowed. “The masked operatives again…”
But Ivaan wasn’t convinced. He stepped closer, his tone dark. “You expect us to believe a stranger in a mask gave Delwig guards orders to delay an alarm — and you obeyed, just like that?”
The man started to protest, but his voice cracked. The others avoided his gaze.
Damien exhaled through his nose, standing upright again. Something didn’t sit right. Their fear looked real — too real. But their essence signatures…
His brow furrowed.
“Captain Apnoch,” he said quietly. “Check them.”
The captain blinked, then placed a gloved hand over his heart, muttering an incantation. A faint light flickered over the prisoners — soft at first, then shifting into an eerie green shimmer.
And then it happened.
Their skin flickered.
For an instant — just an instant — the illusion broke. Beneath the surface shimmered different faces. Gaunter, older, with scars and burns that didn’t match the men kneeling there.
“What in the hells…” Ivaan whispered.
Damien’s jaw clenched. “They’re not guards.”
Apnoch’s hand went to his blade. “Illusions or shape shifting?”
“Not quite.” Damien stepped forward, ripping off the nearest man’s armor plate. Underneath, etched into the skin just above the collarbone, was a faint crimson sigil — one that pulsed faintly when touched.
He recognized it almost instantly. “Essence-binding spell. This is a body mimic.”
The prisoners stared in horror as if only now realizing the marks on their own skin. “Wh-what’s happening—?!”
“They didn’t even know,” Damien said quietly. “Whoever did this used their bodies. Changed their faces, their mana signatures. They probably woke up one day looking like Delwig’s guards — or never woke up at all.”
Apnoch’s eyes hardened. “Then where are the real guards?”
Damien didn’t answer right away. Instead, he drew his dagger, knelt, and sliced the sigil open on the man’s chest. The body convulsed — light spilling out in ribbons of smoke — before the illusion collapsed entirely.
A stranger’s corpse lay before them now, the armor hanging loose around the thinner frame.
“Found them,” Damien said grimly. “At least what’s left of them.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
General Ivaan’s expression darkened, fury simmering beneath his calm exterior. “They killed the guards and took their place,” he muttered. “That means infiltration. Delwig’s been compromised longer than we thought.”
Apnoch cursed under his breath. “And we let them man our walls…”
Damien sheathed his dagger, his tone level but edged. “If they got that far, then this isn’t some rogue cult cell. This is organized — deliberate. Someone’s planting operatives in Delwig’s ranks.”
Ivaan turned toward him. “You think the masked ones are behind this?”
“They’re part of it. But not the roots.” Damien’s gaze lingered on the sigils still faintly glowing on the other corpses. “Whoever’s orchestrating this understands both essence alchemy and demonic essence control. These sigils aren’t amateur work.”
Apnoch crossed his arms. “You’ve seen something like this before.”
Damien’s lips twitched in a humorless smirk. “Once. In a place worse than Delwig.”
That was all he said but the name echoed in his head. Greshan.
Ivaan sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’ll have to re-screen every guard, every soldier. If they’ve infiltrated once, they’ll try again.”
Apnoch nodded. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
Damien started toward the door, then paused. “And burn the bodies. Every last one. If those sigils reactivate, they might mimic again.”
The General nodded grimly. “Understood.”
Outside, the night was still heavy with the scent of rain. Damien stepped out into the open courtyard, tilting his head slightly upward to the sky.
It was quiet — too quiet.
Behind him, Apnoch followed. “You don’t believe it’s over, do you?”
Damien gave a short laugh. “It never is.”
Apnoch frowned. “You sound certain.”
“I am,” Damien replied. “This was only a test. They wanted to see how fast Delwig would react — how strong our defenses are.”
He turned slightly, eyes catching the torchlight. “Next time, they won’t bother sneaking in through tunnels.”
Apnoch’s brow furrowed. “Then how?”
Damien’s gaze shifted toward the towering fortress beyond the square — the very heart of Delwig’s command. “They’ll come through the front door.”
Meanwhile, somewhere else within the fortress, Arielle stood by a window overlooking the courtyard, watching Damien and Apnoch from afar as they began their covert evaluation of all the guards of Delwig.
She couldn’t hear their words — but the tension in their movements, the cold fire in Damien’s posture, told her enough.
“He’s getting closer,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Lyone, sitting nearby cleaning his blade, looked up. “Closer to what?”
Arielle’s eyes lingered on Damien’s silhouette. “To something dangerous.”
She turned, her cloak swaying as she faced Lyone fully. “Pack your things. We’re leaving at dawn.”
Lyone blinked. “Leaving?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “If he’s right — if this isn’t over — then the next trail won’t be found inside Delwig’s walls.”
Her voice dropped to a near whisper. “And I’m not letting him face it alone.”