Round 23: Night Visit

“Hey! See that, Sayers? An entire wall is covered in sapphires!” Hunter stared enviously at a tower-like building nearby and shouted excitedly at Sayers.
“Stop shouting, you uncivilized fool!” Sayers grabbed Hunter by the collar in frustration and looked around. Thankfully, there was no one on the street. “Don’t act so dramatic. You really lack class!”
“Let go, let go!” Hunter struggled but was no match for the Bear Mage. “I can’t breathe!”
Sayers dragged Hunter across the street and knocked on Moriel’s door.
The door opened, and both Sayers and Hunter were shocked. Instead of the stern Moriel, it was Dagulas with a sly smile.
“I just made apple pie. Come and try it!” With that, Dagulas slammed the door shut.
Sayers and Hunter were stunned—If we’re going to eat apple pie, at least let us in first!
Why Dagulas was there became a secondary concern.
The door opened again, this time by Moriel, the true owner of the house. “Come in.”
Facing the steaming apple pie in front of them and the two commanders leisurely eating, Sayers and Hunter both felt it would be more comfortable to just stand aside and watch them eat.
“There’s nothing serious. You don’t need to worry,” Moriel said. She took one bite before putting down her utensils. Whether it was due to a lack of appetite or because the apple pie was simply terrible, she continued, “I just have some new assignments for you to announce.”
“You should be grateful to me. Senior mages all get their own bodyguards, but Mage Moriel never applied for one. If not for me, she probably wouldn’t even know such a rule exists!” Dagulas, with her mouth full of apple pie, spoke clearly and sharply. “But I’m curious why she chose you two fools. Even the lowest-ranked Silver Armored Warriors could be more useful on the battlefield than you…”
Quite blunt.
“Are we going back to the battlefield again?” Sayers asked cautiously.
Moriel glanced at him. This tall, rough-looking mage was surprisingly perceptive. She had noticed this from the first time they met, when he promised not to reveal their conversation—though his method was rather childish.
“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t, and don’t do what you shouldn’t. Didn’t your former commander teach you that?” Dagulas scolded Sayers on Moriel’s behalf while enjoying watching Hunter, who also had his mouth full of apple pie. “Tastes good, right?”
“Yes! Yes!” The two nodded eagerly.
“Now go to the Mage Guild to get intermediate mage equipment, then wait for my orders at any time.” Moriel stood up, clearly uninterested in the apple pie.
“But we haven’t earned the status of intermediate mages yet…” Hunter stammered, only to be silenced by Dagulas’ glare.

“Keep eating, keep eating! What is there to eat? If you want to eat, go home and let your old mother cook for you!” Faced with this capricious Commander Dagulas, the two lower-level—no, now intermediate—mages really didn’t know what to do. Thankfully, it wasn’t her bodyguard—both of them secretly felt relieved again. After Sayers and Hunter left, Dagulas placed her arms on the table and rested her chin on them, looking as if she were a student paying close attention: “Why choose these two idiots? Do you still not trust me and dare not use the people I found for you?” Moriel glanced at the table littered with food scraps after Dagulas and Hunter had eaten, remaining silent. “Do you think the Council’s decision to have us carry out this mission is to make up for our past mistakes, or what?” In the legal district of Vatan City, everyone could overhear conversations, so nothing could be said too clearly. “Isn’t that perfect!” Dagulas winked with her eyes hidden behind her glasses. “Aren’t we exactly trying to make up for our mistakes?” “But this opportunity seems too convenient, doesn’t it?” “Who cares? Just follow the Council’s plan.” Dagulas emphasized the word “plan” heavily before standing up, seemingly ready to leave. “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late, dear!” Dagulas made a flying kiss gesture. As a glow of teleportation magic appeared around her, only Moriel remained in the room. Only she would use such a mana-consuming and meaningless spell at a time like this. Late at night, in Count O’Sullivan’s mansion, the young count was still wide awake, searching among the rows of bookshelves in his study. Sometimes he would pull out a book and stand there reading it for a while, other times he would glance at the cover before putting it back, seemingly just unable to sleep and wanting to pick up a book at random. Suddenly, O’Sullivan sensed something. When he looked up, he found the butler standing respectfully at the door of the study, as if he had been there the whole time. O’Sullivan was about to scold the butler for entering without knocking when he suddenly noticed a shadow gradually emerging in the dim corridor behind him. A long robe covered the figure, and the low hood made it impossible to see their face. With the dim lighting from the candles, O’Sullivan felt nervous for a moment. After letting the person in, the butler bowed slightly before leaving. With the soft click of the door closing, the newcomer lifted their hood, revealing a young yet dignified face. O’Sullivan immediately knelt on one knee. “Your Majesty the Emperor!” The visitor waved his hand and walked straight to the large desk at one end of the study, sitting down in the seat that had only ever been occupied by the Count of O’Sullivan himself. O’Sullivan looked up—it was indeed Emperor Stanley III. “You must be wondering why I’ve come here in secret at midnight!” The emperor’s tone was serious, even somewhat impatient. “Agus, Vatan City, even the palace—none of these places are safe, not even your count’s mansion!”

In fact, it had been a long time since the young Emperor of the Agus Empire had been constrained by the Supreme Council—not just a matter of days or even generations. While maintaining the dignity of the imperial family was necessary in the eyes of all, the emperor himself had many unspeakable hardships. As childhood friends who had grown up together, although they had expressed their dissatisfaction with the Supreme Council openly or subtly in private, after O’Sullivan returned from the City of Rain and was suppressed by the council, the two even secretly agreed to overthrow it. Yet, at such a sensitive moment, it was extremely unusual and dangerous for the emperor himself to visit Count O’Sullivan’s residence. O’Sullivan didn’t know what was happening, but it was clear things were urgent.

Watching the emperor signal him to stand up, O’Sullivan remained silent, merely staring at him with a puzzled expression—should the Supreme Council learn of their secret meeting under these circumstances, who knew what terrible things might happen.

“We must speed things up. If we delay any longer, Agus will be in danger!” The emperor ignored O’Sullivan’s confused look and continued, “My intelligence suggests that Singer’s research is nearing completion. Disaster is imminent—we must act immediately!”

“Research? What research? What action?” Though they had already reached an agreement, the specifics of the plan were still being finalized.

“I don’t know. That’s all my intelligence covers. None of my agents have returned since half a month ago.” The emperor clenched his fists.

“Then how do you know about this research? I’m completely confused, Your Majesty.” O’Sullivan knew that since the emperor had come in person, there was no need to hide anything. “Everything else is progressing as planned, but we still need time—something you’re aware of!”

“I can’t tell you about the source of the intelligence yet. It’s not a matter of distrust, but you’ll find out eventually.” The emperor seemed hesitant but avoided the topic. “Actually, I’m not sure of the details either, but the intelligence is definitely accurate. And the situation is extremely urgent and serious!”

“So what should we do?” The emperor was fine—his only problem was his impatience, something O’Sullivan had noticed since they were children fishing together. But now was clearly not the right time to offer advice.

“Mobilize all forces immediately and besiege the Supreme Council!” the emperor said through gritted teeth.

“That’s impossible!” O’Sullivan spread his hands. “We don’t have many forces to mobilize, and not everyone in the cabinet is on our side—Lucas and Flikina…”

“Do you remember that story we heard as children?” The emperor suddenly leaned forward, looking mysterious. O’Sullivan found the emperor strange tonight.

Standing there in confusion, O’Sullivan watched as the emperor suddenly stood up, went to the bookshelf, searched for a moment, pulled out a book, flipped through it, and then handed it to O’Sullivan.

It is a collection of fairy tales and fables from around the world, meant for children.
“I must leave now, or the Council will surely notice!” The emperor walked to the door, knocked once, then pulled his hood over his head. “No matter what, we must act quickly and resolve this before Singer finishes!”
The door opened, and Naf was there outside.
“You’ll go on campaign with Kant tomorrow, I know it’s difficult for you. In any case, carry out our plan as soon as possible!” Seeing Naf outside, the emperor suddenly remembered something: “From now on, Naf will be in charge of all our communications. Avoid meeting in person for now. Be careful!”
The emperor left, and O’Sullivan forgot to bow. Watching Naf bow and slowly close the door, O’Sullivan felt a sense of reflection. It seemed that Naf, who had served O’Sullivan’s family for three generations over fifty years, had not been appointed personally by Emperor Stanley. His mission had begun fifty years ago—though the tasks changed, he remained the same cautious and dedicated old steward.
O’Sullivan lowered his head to look at the pages of the fairy tale book in his hands. It was a story about an evil sorcerer attempting to conquer the world with his powerful magic. The doors of memory gradually opened, and the story meant to scare disobedient children became clearer.
“The sorcerer and his mechanical warriors… what does that mean…” O’Sullivan mused as he sat down and began reading the story he had heard countless times since childhood.
The next day, at noon, an even larger army set out from Vatan City. Dozens of armored flying machines circled above the city before flying toward the Sleeping Forest. By the time the vanguard on the ground had become a dot on the horizon, more troops continued to stream out of the city gates. Silver-armored warriors, armored soldiers, and mages, along with armored war vehicles, moved like a giant serpent capable of devouring everything, winding its way across the vast Tanori Plains. As night fell, countless campfires lit up the plains beyond the narrow edges of the Sleeping Forest. From every angle, it was clear that the moment of battle had arrived.
“They haven’t even set up many of those mechanical towers. It seems they’ll enter the forest early tomorrow morning.” Jolice perched on a tree branch and looked down at Forty-Seven sitting below. “Just as you predicted.”
“I said it was not prediction, but a plan!” Forty-Seven stood up, his joints making a series of clinking sounds. “Though it’s not entirely my plan.”
Jolice jumped down from the tree silently.
“I don’t know what your plan is, but if they keep fighting all the way to the Ildris tribe, we’ll have no way to retreat!”
Before Forty-Seven could say anything, a magic missile sparking as it flew rose into the air, tracing a beautiful parabola before plunging straight into the forest. More death rays, stun bombs, and fire missiles followed, rising, falling, and exploding in the forest.

“They attacked early! Was this also part of your plan?” Jolice said, placing her finger on her lips. As a whistle sounded, a series of whistles echoed in succession, from near and far. Then, thousands of arrows were shot from the forest, falling like a torrential rain of arrows upon Agus’s army’s camp.
“Be careful!” Forty-seven turned his head and walked back into the depths of the forest.
Kond was in a bad mood, so despite O’Sullivan and Moriel’s strong requests to wait until dawn before launching an attack, he still gave the order to attack.
“Damn old Singh, watch me drain all your troops in this battle!” He thought this in his heart but couldn’t say it out loud. Besides, Kond was well aware that they were all like grasshoppers tied to the same string, but he might not have considered whether Singh would see himself as one of those grasshoppers or not.
“It’s the same method as Lord Yatu’s—using an attack on the forest to lure that guy out, right?” Daguras leaned over the railing at the top of the construct tower, chewing on a bright red apple as he watched the spectacular fireworks display: “It’s best not to end up in the same mess as Lord Yatu, Mage Kond.”
“You little brat! You really haven’t been tamed by Aresha at all!” Being teased by someone skilled at mockery, especially when it hits the mark, surely isn’t pleasant.
“I also think this isn’t appropriate,” Moriel said, expressing her opinion. “First, the enemy won’t fall for it easily again. Second, our losses will be significant. After all, the Night Elves can fight more effectively at night…”
Who knows? Mage Singh secretly ordered me to do two things: first, capture that strange construct; second, completely destroy the Sleeping Forest. Launching a full-scale attack in the name of avenging Yatu can not only distract the elves to some extent but also silence those nobles and commoners in Vatan City who are tired of war, as well as most mid- and low-level mages.
As for losses, who cares that much?
“You three lead the troops into the forest!” Kond ordered comfortably, leaning back in his chair. “I’ll follow with the main force. Go!”
The vanguard advanced into the forest under the cover of construct warships and flying constructs. The rain of elf arrows seemed to gradually stop, and the troops successfully entered the forest. Strangely, aside from sudden arrows shot from the darkness, the Agus soldiers didn’t see a single elf. For the Night Elves, who fought fiercely to defend every inch of the forest, this situation was quite suspicious.
At the forefront, Moriel stood on top of a giant mechanical spider, gazing into the depths of the forest for a moment before choosing a direction and ordering forward.
Groups of Agus soldiers kept entering the forest, devouring this dark green area like quicksand.
The troops moved forward, and resistance dwindled until it vanished entirely. Everyone began to wonder, including Kond, who had already entered the heart of the forest.
“Report the locations of the three commanders to me!” Kond slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair. He was sitting on a luxurious seat atop a construct warship—this was his habit; no matter where he was, he always stood on the highest point.

“Commander Douglas reports that she’s found an Elven settlement!”
“Great! Attack! Kill all those damned elves!”
Sayers widened his eyes, seemingly unable to believe what he saw. In the blink of an eye, less than half of their group remained. Wherever that black whirlwind passed, bodies lay in heaps. No spells or weapons could keep up with it. It wasn’t until the whirlwind finally stopped on a moss-covered rock not far away that Sayers saw its blade-covered wings covered in blood.
Of course, it was all the blood of Agus soldiers and mages. As for the demon that had killed Xant with a single slap, it hadn’t shed a single drop of blood.
Sayers hopelessly turned to look for Moriel’s whereabouts, only to find the giant spider’s back empty. When he turned back, drawn by a sudden burst of colorful light ahead, the steel demon was lying in midair, surrounded by rings of light of different colors, with Moriel standing beside it.
“Take him back!” Moriel said in a tone as if they were on a picnic. “We’ve earned our reward.”