Chapter 3: Rescuing Someone

Chapter 3: Retrieving People

In the morning, Druchii opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the cabin.

A light knock came from outside the door, and Edmund said, "My Lord, it is time to wake up and eat."

Druchii sat up and asked, "What time is it?"

"My Lord, it is past nine."

After breakfast, Druchii walked onto the deck. The thick fog had dissipated, and the three-masted schooner was anchored in a highly concealed cove beneath the sea cliffs.

Edmund said, "My Lord, the ship arrived around four in the morning. Those three siblings have already climbed the cliff using ropes."

Dastan Cold-Eye also walked over, saluted, and said, "Young Master, they told the ship to wait for one day. If they haven't returned by tonight, we don't need to wait for them."

Druchii asked, "Is there anyone guarding the cliff? Is this place safe?"

Edmund answered quickly, "My Lord, a squad of soldiers has already been sent up to keep watch."

"Young Master, it is safe here. This entire area is nothing but sea cliffs, and there are hidden reefs outside. Under normal circumstances, no ships pass through here, and even if they did, they wouldn't see us."

Druchii looked up at the sea cliff, frowned, and said, "Then why do I have such an uneasy feeling?"

Dastan Cold-Eye and Edmund exchanged glances. Then, Dastan Cold-Eye said hesitantly, "My Lord? Could those three siblings be in trouble?"

Druchii’s brow furrowed even deeper, his inner sense of unease intensifying. He looked at Edmund and asked, "Are there any soldiers who are good at tracking?"

"My Lord, there are two captains and the beastmasters who are all skilled in tracking."

"Dastan, you stay behind to guard the ship. Edmund, pick some men; we are going after them."

Both Druchii turned pale. They said in unison, "My Lord! Young Master! You cannot go."

Druchii looked at the two of them, his inner unease reaching a critical threshold, and said, "Execute the order! Damn it all to hell." With that, he walked quickly back to the cabin to put on his gear.

Back in the cabin, Dastan Cold-Eye followed him in and stood at the door, saying, "Young Master, may I assist you?"

Druchii was putting on his full suit of chainmail and nodded. Dastan Cold-Eye unbuckled the noble curved sword at his waist and placed it slowly on the floor, then took out two serrated daggers from his left and right boots and placed them down as well. Finally, with a strange movement, he pulled out a punch dagger from the inside of his thigh.

Druchii stared at him, dumbfounded. *Good grief!* he thought. *This kid is quite the hoarder.* Dastan Cold-Eye raised his hands high and walked over slowly to help Druchii put on his plate armor.

Druchii wartime equipment usually consisted of a thick leather gambeson worn as the base layer, followed by full chainmail, a silk robe, and finally the plate armor.

Druchii tied back his long hair, put on his bizarrely shaped helmet, and looked at the Gothic-style black steel and gold-inlaid grand duke gauntlets on his hands, as well as the pointed sabatons on his feet. He performed the second set of Cold One Dreadknight calisthenics—the Witch King Malekith was calling!

The armor, forged from black steel fused with sacrificial blood and engraved with powerful runes, was extremely lightweight. The joints moved freely, and he couldn't feel the weight at all. He strapped on his rune-etched Messer and shouldered his Druchii halberd. Looking at Dastan Cold-Eye, he said earnestly, "You must keep a close watch on the ship."

Dastan Cold-Eye frowned, staring at Druchii with a serious expression, and said, "Young Master, I still do not approve of you going!"

Druchii sighed, patted Dastan Cold-Eye on the shoulder, and said, "Staying on the ship is just staying on the ship. We will be back before nightfall. If an accident really happens, we’ll just hijack a ship and meet in Lothern."

Dastan Cold-Eye wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in his throat. He sighed.

Druchii’s inner sense of foreboding grew even stronger. He walked onto the deck and saw five more ropes hanging from the cliff, with soldiers currently climbing them.

"It’s like a rock climber running into a landslide—what a disaster. Edmund!"

"My Lord!"

"What is the squad configuration?"

"My Lord, two squads have already gone up. They are mixed units: each squad has a captain, four Dreadspears, four Bleakswords, and two Darkshards. There are also two squads of Black Ark Corsairs and four beastmasters. Should we hoist your Cold One up?"

Druchii looked up at the height of the cliff, shook his head, and said, "I don't think there's time. Bring more harpoon crossbows."

After saying this, he jumped onto the shallows and walked to the base of the cliff to climb the ropes. Once he reached the top, a beastmaster with a wild, gravity-defying mohawk knelt on one knee and said, "My Lord, I saw a unique Druchii mark left on a tree; it was left just this morning."

Edmund, who was bringing up the rear, also climbed up. Druchii took a harpoon crossbow, hung it at his waist, and accepted a vulture-shaped black pine and steel-reinforced shield from a guard. He glanced at the three-masted schooner below the cliff and marveled, "This position is truly devious. You wouldn't see it at all unless you were flying in the sky."

"Move out!"

There were exactly fifty Druchii in total. Two beastmasters led the way, followed by the two mixed squads. Druchii, Edmund, and the other two beastmasters brought up the rear, with the two Black Ark Corsair squads fanning out to the left and right as they began to advance into the forest.

In the mysterious forests of the Kingdom of Chrace, White Lions are the most renowned beasts. They are muscular, lethal feline hunters whose shoulders are nearly as high as an Elven warhorse, yet they are far stronger. A single swipe of their claws can shatter bones, and even a helmeted head cannot withstand a light bite from their sharp teeth; even Cold Ones are no match for them.

Deep in the forest, five fierce White Lions lay on the ground, having been dead for some time. Two of them had clearly been pierced through by magic.

Beside the lion carcasses, Phranas was locked in a life-or-death duel with a White Lion Guard using his Druchii halberd. Renn held his shield and a serrated longsword, shielding Alissa behind him. Alissa leaned against a tree trunk, her face pale, gasping for air.

In the distance, two other White Lion Guards watched the duel, while more than a dozen other Asur—some wielding great axes, others bows—surrounded the three siblings, guarding the perimeter.

Alissa whispered, "In a moment, I will try to hold them off. You look for an opening and run—don't look back!"

Renn replied firmly, "If we die, we die together!"

The duel between Phranas and the White Lion Guard was extremely bloody, with both sides adopting a life-for-a-life strategy. Phranas had taken an axe blow to his left shoulder, deep enough to expose bone, while the White Lion Guard had a massive wound on his right calf. Both had long since recognized the other's family crest; enemies meeting face-to-face, their eyes burning with hatred.

The White Lion Guard stared fixedly at Phranas and snarled, "House Kethaya! You still have the nerve to return!"

"Shut your mouth! Lackey of the False King! You have brought shame upon the Kingdom of Chrace!"

The two clashed again. Phranas launched an aggressive, low-defensive thrust, which was parried by the White Lion Guard’s great axe. The guard then countered with a swing, the great axe cleaving toward Phranas. Phranas dodged with a desperate side-step and slammed the butt of his halberd into the White Lion Guard’s chest. The axe missed, and the halberd butt struck the guard’s chest with a heavy thud. The White Lion Guard stepped back, threw his axe at Phranas, and then lunged forward, grabbing the halberd shaft with both hands.

Phranas was struck in the chest by the great axe, which embedded itself into his plate armor, and he spat out blood. The White Lion Guard grinned savagely at Phranas and pulled the halberd backward, as if he had already seen the outcome.

Phranas gripped the halberd shaft with one hand, ripped the great axe out of his armor with the other, and threw it to the ground. He spat a mouthful of blood into the White Lion Guard’s face, then abandoned the halberd and lunged at the guard. The White Lion Guard, caught off guard, leaned backward, and Phranas drew the serrated dagger from his waist and plunged it directly into the White Lion Guard’s throat.

(End of chapter)