Chapter 12: Failure

Asa pointed at the old priest and stammered, "You… you're not dead?"

"Even if you die, I won't." The old priest glared at Asa with his striking black-and-white eyes and spat on the floor.

"I… I was going to come back and get revenge for you…" Asa was completely at a loss, unsure whether he felt shocked or relieved. Although the old priest looked entirely different, his tone, voice, and gestures, combined with the special magical aura Asa sensed when the priest burst through the wall, clearly indicated that this old priest was Sandru. As for the face, Asa knew it must be another mask; this old man had plenty of tricks up his sleeve.

"I didn't expect you to be so loyal. Ok, if you end up getting killed, I'll make sure to avenge you," Sandru chuckled, pulling a lifelike mask from his face to reveal a familiar yet strange visage. He had to shave off his beard to wear this mask, and without it, his face showed fewer wrinkles and didn't look very old. He shouted towards the hallway, "Everyone, come in!"

The duke's face was as grim as it could be. Although Asa and Sandru were completely unguarded, the sword in his hand remained still, not from fear but because his fighting spirit had already vanished.

The tension in the hallway had dissipated, vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. Captain Roland straightened his posture, and his sword remained sheathed. At this moment, it became apparent that his forehead was drenched in sweat, and he even showed signs of fatigue. When he had bent down to guard himself, he hadn't seemed like a living person.

Captain Roland glanced at the corner and sighed heavily, as if he had just completed a long-distance run. He didn't speak and walked straight into the room. As he stepped forward, the marble floor beneath him cracked with a sound like rustling leaves; it had already shattered without anyone noticing.

From the corner behind Captain Roland, footsteps echoed, and a tall, imposing figure emerged. Although it was clear that only someone of that stature could exude such an aura, seeing the person in the flesh shattered the last glimmer of hope for the duke. It was Grutt, Theodorus's friend.

Captain Roland entered the study room, nodding to Sandru and Rodhart before looking at Asa and finally at the duke. His face showed no expression, and his gaze lacked the fierce, piercing light it had held before. However, the duke's expression began to crumble.

At that moment, the elite guards who should have surged in from outside still had not appeared; the surroundings remained eerily quiet. The duke's keen intellect was sufficient to understand what all of this signified.

Grutt also stepped into the study room. He didn't look at anyone, his cold gaze first landing on Captain Roland, asking, "Just now, I gave you the chance to draw your sword. Why didn't you do it?"

"Because it wasn't necessary," Captain Roland replied flatly. His hand had released the sword but had somehow gripped it again without him realizing it. He didn't look at Grutt but instead surveyed the room.

"Don't you want to try?" Grutt's gaze fell on the sword at Captain Roland's waist, and it seemed as though two black flames flickered in his deep, dark eyes.

Captain Roland returned his gaze with the same calmness, his voice still even. "I don't want to."

Grutt's gaze swept over Asa, Rodhart, and Captain Roland, stopping short of looking at the duke. He then turned to Sandru and suddenly asked coldly, "You said everyone here is on the same side?"

"That should be the case," Sandru nodded.

"What about this person?" Grutt's voice grew colder, tinged with a murderous intent. However, his gaze didn't fix on anyone; instead, he stared at the bookshelf beside him. His eyes suddenly sharpened, as if that wooden shelf filled with books was more lethal than Captain Roland himself. "Still don't want to come out? Are you waiting people here to force you out?"

Everyone turned to look, but it was just a bookshelf. Asa, Rodhart, and even Sandru looked puzzled. Only Captain Roland's expression remained unchanged; his hand stayed on the sword.

"Getting old…" A strange sigh resonated as a shadow detached itself from the bookshelf, manifesting from nothing.

Everyone's complexion changed, except for General Grutt and Captain Roland, especially the duke and Asa.

Although the study room was not large, it wasn't small either, and the furnishings were simple. Even a cat would find it impossible to hide without being noticed. Moreover, the duke's study room had no windows or ventilation for secrecy. This meant that this person had been here from the start, watching the duke and Asa's every move and word.

As this person stepped away from the bookshelf, everyone noticed that the shadows in the corner had diminished slightly. The person had completely blended into the darkness, making it impossible to notice them. Even Captain Roland had only sensed something amiss, while only Grutt had picked up on it.

"Getting old, truly... to get two people actually noticed me... and even tracked me down..." The voice was strange, yet it carried an unmistakable tone of frustration. The figure was entirely wrapped in a black, skin-tight suit, with petite and slender body, and a golden skull mask adorning the face. Even though he revealed himself, he seemed perpetually shrouded in a hazy, indistinct shadow, making it impossible to discern whether it was male or female, young or old.

Asa's expression changed. He recognized that strange voice and mask; two necromancers had once pursued him in the same manner. But their masks had been silver, while this one was dark gold.

Sandru, however, seemed even more surprised than Asa. His expression was a mix of excitement and awkwardness, similar to Asa's reaction when he first saw him. He pointed at the person and stammered, "It's you? You… what are you doing here?"

The person turned to Sandru, the dark gold mask casting his eyes into shadow. His tone was flat as he replied, "I heard you were dead, so I came to help collect your body. But it seems like I made the trip for nothing…"

Sandru's expression was peculiar, showing a mix of slight happiness and awkwardness, completely lacking his usual composure. His speech became a bit unnatural as he said, "Thank you for your concern…"

"I'm not concerned about you. I'm only interested in the things you took with you. What will happen if the guild gets them back after you die?" The person floated toward the study's door. "Since you're not dead, I'll take my leave."

"Stop." Grutt and Captain Roland spoke simultaneously. Both moved in unison, taking positions on either side of the door. Their eyes glinted like needles, piercing the figure.

The person immediately froze—not because he was obedient, but because he couldn't move.

There seemed to be no cataclysmic changes in the study room; everything remained unusually quiet. Yet, Rodhart suddenly knelt, sweat pouring down his forehead as he looked pale at the three figures at the door.

Asa remained standing, but beads of cold sweat began to form on his brow.

If the standoff between Grutt and Captain Roland had been a storm, then the combined aura of these two now filled the study room like molten steel. It appeared perfectly calm, yet the atmosphere was thick and hot beyond measure. With each breath, they felt their lungs constrict under the pressure of this overwhelming force.

"What are you doing?" Sandru glared at Grutt and Captain Roland, his voice sharp.

"I think you'd better explain yourself," Captain Roland replied, ignoring Sandru and keeping his eyes fixed on the cloaked figure, his gaze as sharp as a sword. "If you truly came looking for Mr. Sandru, then why have you been lurking here? And that mask—if I'm not mistaken—indicates that you belong to the Necromancer Guild. If you can't prove you're not a potential enemy, you're not leaving."

Grutt remained silent. Captain Roland's words reflected his own sentiments. While they could take precautions, the lives of their monarch and friends hung precariously in the hands of someone with such advanced stealth skills.

Given the current two-against-one situation, this was undoubtedly the best opportunity to eliminate such a dangerous figure. Both Grutt and Captain Roland understood this.

"Don't go too far," Sandru warned, his eyes wide, the sudden light emanating from him causing a slight tremor in the aura around Grutt and Captain Roland. Seizing this moment, the cloaked figure quickly slipped into the corridor and, in the blink of an eye, blended seamlessly into the surroundings like a chameleon. He left behind a fading voice: "... Don't worry, I've long since grown tired of being anyone's enemy. I was just hiding here to help this kid save his life."

Captain Roland didn't pursue the figure. He sighed and turned to Sandru. "I'm sorry. This person is just too dangerous. If he could be our enemy…"

Sandru's expression returned to its usual demeanor, albeit with a hint of resignation. He sighed and murmured, "Don't worry. He's like me—he's lost interest in your schemes and the affairs of state. He's probably just here to help me collect a body."

Grutt turned to Asa, saying, "The reason I didn't come in earlier was that I sensed another presence here. I couldn't determine if they were friend or foe, so I couldn't act. I thought it best to let you take the lead and wait for the right moment. I didn't expect he was actually planning to help you." He smiled, a rare sight. "Looks like your business venture ended up being a loss. After all that effort to persuade us to help you, it turns out you could have made it back to the capital alone without any danger. It seems there were so many waiting to assist you."

Asa exhaled in relief and shook his head with a bitter smile. "It wasn't a total loss. At least it seems I've achieved my goal."

Grutt replied coolly, "I don't care what your goal is. But since you're not dead, you have to fulfill your promise to us."

"Don't worry, I never back out on debts," Asa chuckled wryly. "Especially not with you."

"It looks like I have no further business here. I'll go find that wivern," Grutt said, casting a cold glance at the duke before adding icily, "I doubt this man can survive much longer anyway."

With those words, the duke's spirit completely shattered.

He had already realized he was facing death. When Sandru and Captain Roland appeared together, and Grutt revealed himself, he knew he had no way to turn the tide. Death was inevitable. What he couldn't accept was the utter and inexplicable nature of his failure.

Just minutes earlier, he had felt like the master of this world, controlling everyone around him. Yet, in just a few moments, he discovered he was the one being controlled. He had stood there, watching these people talk and debate, nearly no one casting a glance in his direction. Grutt's final remark underscored that, in the eyes of the victors, he had become inconsequential—no different from a dead man.

If this defeat had been mere luck or an occasional lapse on his part—if Captain Roland had stumbled upon his weakness by coincidence, if that necromancer hadn't escaped, or if Grutt and the mysterious figure hadn't shown up unexpectedly—he might have felt better. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. Every event that had transpired was clearly not a coincidence but rather a premeditated plan.

His own schemes had merely become part of someone else's agenda. After years of orchestrating elaborate strategies and calling the shots, he had ended up as a mere clown in a tragic play. The duke's mental state was beyond mere pain or despair; those words could no longer encapsulate what he felt.

Slowly and helplessly, the duke sank into a chair. Now, everything around him, everyone he saw—including the duke's estate—began to crumble, decay, and collapse into death. With the most feeble voice of his life, he murmured, "Why is it so quiet here?"

Even now, the surroundings remained eerily silent; not only were the elite guards outside absent, but even the servants within the duke's estate had not appeared. The place felt like a ghostly manor.

"They have all left, following your orders, my lord," Rodhart replied, his tone as polite, humble, and concise as ever. "I told them that you and Captain Roland were interrogating a prisoner and must not be disturbed."

The duke closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "And then you all waited outside for me to say as much as I could to this kid I thought was headed for doom, before you let him go?"

"Correct," Rodhart confirmed.

The duke sighed deeply and fell silent. He had completely lost the will to resist or struggle. Although he was far from weak, he was up against two of the strongest individuals, and he didn't want to futilely fight like a dog, only to be subdued and slaughtered. Besides, his fighting spirit had already collapsed; there was nothing left.

Captain Roland and Rodhart quietly observed the duke, saying nothing. Sandru seemed lost in thought, his mind not entirely present. Asa remained silent, knowing that he no longer needed to say anything.

After a long pause, the duke laboriously opened his eyes and looked at Captain Roland. "I just want to know some things. Can you tell me?"

"Go ahead," Captain Roland nodded, understanding that the duke had completely broken.

"Why were you and that necromancer working together? Thousands witnessed your battle; I could tell that it was no act. You lost over fifty members of your squad. How could you unite later to confront me?"

"Seeing something firsthand doesn't always mean it's the truth, does it? Just as you had the magic academy witnesses see the murderer."

On that day, in the big house.

"I've never liked small talk," Captain Roland said, flicking his wrist as the long sword's hum filled every inch of the grand hall. "Let's get to the point." He looked at Sandru and asked, "Who exactly are you?"

"You came to kill me without even knowing who I am?" Sandru responded, a mix of amusement and disbelief in his expression. He frowned and pondered for a moment. "But since you're here to cause trouble, something must have happened. Doesn't Ronis know you're here?"

"Bishop Ronis has been assassinated," Captain Roland said, locking eyes with Sandru.

"What?" Sandru's body jolted, his gathered magical energy dissipating in the chaos of his mind. "How… is that possible?"

This reaction clearly affirmed Captain Roland's suspicions. The shock displayed by Sandru was genuine; voluntarily dispersing magic in a standoff was akin to presenting one's neck for the sword. Captain Roland sheathed his sword and said, "Hundreds witnessed that the murderer was the priest residing here. There's even a wanted notice personally signed by Bishop Ronis stating that the priest is a spy for the Necromancer Guild."

Sandru had yet to recover from his shock. The appearance of the holy knights commander, coupled with the loss of three of his squad members, was not merely for the purpose of telling a lie. He shook his head repeatedly, disbelief etched on his face. "Impossible… It can't be him… That kid couldn't possibly have killed Ronis."

"I also find it improbable. However, judging by the wounds on the bishop and the circumstances at the time, it certainly raises suspicions. I suspect it's a trap…"

"Then why didn't you investigate? Instead, you come here to cause trouble for me?" Sandru's voice grew frantic.

"With hundreds of eyewitnesses and a personally signed wanted notice from the bishop, the evidence is irrefutable. Even if it is a trap, there's no way to evade it. Everyone suspects you of being a necromancer, and His Majesty has ordered me to kill any necromancer on sight. So even if I have my doubts, I have no reason not to carry out the order." Captain Roland reached into his cloak and pulled out a teleportation scroll. "Although I've never heard Bishop Ronis mention you, given his reaction to the previous necromancer incident and your response just now, I have enough reason to believe you are a necromancer, but your relationship with Bishop Ronis must be significant. Only by joining forces can we hope to uncover the truth. This is a teleportation scroll to the Magic Academy, where no one is currently present. You should hide for a while, and then we can contact each other privately."

"No need to hide," Sandru said as he took the scroll. He turned and entered another room, retrieving a mask. With a quick swipe of his hand across his face, his beard fell away, revealing a completely different appearance once he donned the mask.

"It would be best to summon a few zombies or skeletons for me to kill. That would raise fewer suspicions," Captain Roland advised Sandru. "If you can also disguise a corpse as your own, it would be even better. With so many witnesses outside seeing you and me battle, then you being killed, it might prove useful for us later."

"Alright," Sandru nodded. "But you'd better be careful not to get killed yourself."