I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 58. Infiltration (2)

‘Under all circumstances, avoid conflict with a division-level army.’

This was the ironclad rule I had followed while carrying out missions for the past month.

Here, a division referred to an army with a headcount of over 10,000.

On Earth, the concept of a division was a formation said to have been created only in the 18th century, during the dawn of the modern French army.

If I had to make a comparison, the Empire's military system tended to be somewhat ahead of its time.

This was likely due to the large influence of the Empire being a feudal system that was, at the same time, semi-centralized, at least in the military sector.

This was my opinion as an expert who had mastered all the lore over eight years.

Well, not that it was important right now.

“Halt! State your identity and affiliation!”

Thung! Thung!

Even before we approached the castle gate.

An intense light shone down from atop the castle walls, illuminating the Indika soldiers.

It was a magitech device.

A magitech device that shone a powerful light on a fixed point, much like a searchlight.

A wealthy city certainly had a different class of equipment.

During the Battle of Wolfskrig, the priests had to work their asses off all night just to light up our field of vision.

Anyway, this sort of thing was why I tried to avoid conflict with large armies, especially division-level units like city garrisons.

Honestly, we were outmatched in every way, not just in numbers but also in equipment and the quality of the troops.

“Ma, Madad Karo!”

“We have wounded! Help us!”

I dropped the Indika-style curved sword and spread my arms.

The other Indika soldiers did the same.

Before long, the searchlight’s beam dimmed.

The soldiers guarding the gate approached with halberds and spears aimed at us.

One of them stepped forward.

Pretending to squint at the bright light, I checked his rank insignia.

He was the Captain of the Guard.

“Identity and affiliation.”

“We are under the command of Roshan Sahib….”

“I see. Your collars match that unit. Are there wounded? Who did you fight? Where is your commander?”

“It was a mercenary band led by an ashen-haired captain and a white-haired knight. Roshan Sahib… has passed away.”

“Follow me. The Count is waiting for you.”

Had this been arranged beforehand?

The guards surrounded us and escorted us inside the gate.

“The wounded will receive treatment here.”

The wounded were left at the barracks near the gate.

I was a little worried.

The summoning range of [Warrior’s Binding] was quite long, but I felt the summons would be canceled if we got too far.

But by then, the matter would already be settled, so perhaps it didn't matter.

In any case, the guards’ reaction was as I had expected.

From the Count's perspective, a foreign army with whom he had made a not-so-honorable deal had suddenly lost contact.

And this happened right after they went to capture a single mercenary band.

He must have been anxiously waiting for any survivors who might escape.

Of course, they weren't complete fools either.

“You speak the Imperial language well. For someone from Indika, your pronunciation should be a bit awkward.”

They were testing me to see if we were really the defeated Indika army.

They kept trying to test us as we moved.

Of course, I had an answer prepared.

“Legally, I am a subject of Indika, but my place of birth is the Empire.”

“Hm? Is that so?”

“My father’s master was an attendant to a diplomat. Thanks to that, my father met my mother in the Empire and married her.”

The basic concept was a half-blood born in the Empire.

However, the Captain of the Guard tilted his head at a different point.

“An attendant to a diplomat… is a master? Isn't a noble's attendant a commoner?”

“He is of the Kamarut class. My father was of the Tashtra class.”

“…I heard that even commoners in Indika are divided into dozens of classes. It seems to be true.”

“It is our tradition.”

I proudly lifted my chin.

Like the attitude one would typically have when introducing their own culture.

When foreigners wrinkled their noses at the smell of kimchi and doenjang, Koreans, on the contrary, proudly spread it and conquered the streets of other countries with a culture called K-food.

Of course, not every culture was universally accepted.

Just look at Hongeo samhap; it was somewhat controversial.

“Unlike in other countries, we also have opportunities for social advancement. If one distinguishes oneself in their field during their lifetime, they can rise one or two steps above their original status.”

“I see.”

“Yes, even if I am a Tashtra, my children can be Totra. And their children can be Kamarut. Doesn't it… make you feel a will to live?”

“…I wouldn’t know.”

The Captain of the Guard shrugged.

Well, I didn't know if Indika’s class system was kimchi or fermented skate.

However, at the very least, as the child of a diplomat’s party, it would be proper to be equipped with a bit of so-called national pride.

However, the Captain of the Guard was not an easy man.

As befitting someone in a profession that deals with all sorts of people, he threw a sharp question at the perfect moment.

“Come to think of it, didn't you say an ashen-haired mercenary captain?”

“That is correct.”

“Same as your hair color?”

This bastard.

He was sharp.

* * *

Tribus' hair and eyes were black.

My hair and eyes were dark gray.

It was a fact I had overlooked for a long time.

No, rather than overlooking it, it would be more accurate to say I judged it as something not urgent.

While Ash’s symbols were ashen hair, the mercenary band, miracles, and magic, Tribus' symbols were a white mask, necromancy, and a rotten personality.

They were distinct but non-overlapping characteristics.

That was why I had postponed dealing with it.

After all, hair color was hard to distinguish in the middle of a battle when it was spattered with blood and filth.

But now, I thought it was time to address it.

“My hair color, you mean?”

“Yes. Ash, the ashen-haired mercenary captain. Quite famous, I hear. Isn't your hair ashen too?”

My reputation was growing.

A high reputation score wasn't always an advantage.

For one, my description was spreading everywhere.

In the 21st century, with its advanced internet, this would happen to anyone even slightly famous, but this was an era where the majority of people didn't even know the Emperor's face.

In such an era, having my description spread meant my reputation was starting to get on track.

Not only assassins targeting me, but even thieves' guilds taking secret requests from nobles would try to dig into my private life.

Other things were fine.

But having my dual identity exposed was a problem.

I needed to come up with a countermeasure, whether it was hair dye or something else.

It was absurd to think about applying dye and washing it off during a battle, but I could work out the specifics later.

Of course, for now, resolving the ‘misunderstanding’ before me was the priority.

The method was simple.

“……Pardon?”

I stopped walking.

As if I had heard something completely unimaginable.

[Activating [Lord’s Unyielding Mind].]

I appropriately turned on the trait buff as well.

Well, I mean, it was true, wasn't it?

“What do you mean by that?”

It was a nonsensical thing to say, from a common-sense perspective.

Ash himself, who was on a winning streak, leading a group of defeated Indika soldiers into the heart of an enemy city?

Setting aside the fact that he'd be putting his life on the line, it was a stupid act.

It wasn't just entering the tiger's den; it was sticking his head right into its mouth.

“Just as I said. The ashen hair….”

Of course, the hair color was indeed a point of suspicion.

“It’s my biological mother's hair color. She was from the northern highlands. She was his second wife.”

“……I see.”

Hammering in a somewhat drastic Tal-lulah like this would end the game.

Another word from him, and he'd be prying into a complicated family affair.

The Captain of the Guard apologized in a hesitant tone.

“My apologies.”

After that, he was silent for a while.

The Indika soldiers couldn't speak the language anyway, so there was no point in interrogating them.

The guards led us deep into the city.

We passed through quiet streets and squares.

Crossing the stone bridge that bisected the city's center led to the lord's castle.

It was the residence of Count Maenenwood, the central figure in this whole situation.

“What did you say your name was?”

“It is Artur.”

“Artur. Right.”

The Captain of the Guard spoke again around the time we were crossing that stone bridge.

He let out a sigh, looked around, and said quietly.

“Be careful what you say in front of the Count. Count Maenenwood is quite… not himself these days.”

Just as I thought.

It was what I had expected.

This was directly related to the reason I had taken the risk to infiltrate the city.

“What do you mean by that…?”

“His gaze changes often. Originally, the Count was not fond of your country.”

“…Is that so.”

“The things he’s doing now, too. In the past… no, I don't need to go that far.”

The Captain of the Guard shook his head.

However, I knew the rest of the story he had omitted.

Count Maenenwood.

In the game, he was pro-Emperor.

Not just that, he was a hidden dagger that had infiltrated Marquis Ricardo’s faction, pretending to be anti-Emperor, aiming for the Marquis' jugular from right under his chin.

Whenever a civil war broke out, he would always betray the Marquis at a critical moment.

But in no case did he ever commit atrocities like joining hands with Indika or burning down Imperial villages.

That was something he wouldn't do, whether on the Emperor's side or the Marquis' side.

‘In other words, a third party has intervened.’

Probably from the Indika side.

I had infiltrated to find out the whole story.

As we neared the end of the bridge, the Captain of the Guard added one more thing.

“I understand that the capital of Indika is called the City of Magic.”

“That is correct.”

“Do you perhaps know how to remove curses, or mind control… or even how to exorcise evil spirits?”

His voice was secretive.

He was probably trying to prevent the guards following behind from hearing.

Not knowing his intention, I remained silent without answering.

I don't know how he took that silence, but the Captain of the Guard mumbled and then said with a sigh.

“Please save my uncle.”

“……”

“If you can.”

The Captain of the Guard.

So he was the Count’s nephew.

Well, it wasn't that rare to place a noble's son as the head of security for a large city.

However, the Captain of the Guard himself seemed to regret his words.

“Forget what I just said. It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Not at all. It was helpful.”

I shook my head.

He must have been desperate.

The fact that he alternated between suspicion and complaint was proof of how cornered he was.

“Does that mean…?”

The Captain of the Guard looked up.

His face was filled with budding expectation.

Looking at the Captain of the Guard, Count Maenenwood’s nephew, who was swallowing hard, I gave a short, silent nod.

The strangely composed group continued to move.

Defeated Indika soldiers and the Imperial Guard.

We passed through the checkpoint and entered the lord's castle.

Now, it was the lord's castle butler, not the guards, who led the group.

“This way. The Count is waiting for you.”

The place where we stopped was the banquet hall.

As we opened the ornate doors and entered, a grand feast laid out on a long table welcomed us.

Was this truly a city that had prospered alongside one of the Empire's two lifelines?

It seemed to have escaped the national poverty scattered by the civil war.

Of course, that wasn't what was important right now.

“What in the world are you doing! The reconnaissance teams are going missing. The supply lines have been cut! Yes, it seems to be the work of the mercenary band you faced.”

With his back to the rich and greasy delicacies.

A middle-aged man, muttering to himself while banging his head against the wall.

“No, it's not a mercenary band. It's a special operations unit. A special ops unit disguised as a mercenary band. The gray-haired one! That's him. Burn them! Burn all the villages! Kill and offer them up. For the Emperor!”

A noble dressed in fancy clothes, looking half-mad.

Dealing with Count Maenenwood was what was important.

“Hm? You! You are!”

He turned his head.

I knew at once by looking at his eyes.

While learning the vampire school of magic, my sense of souls had developed considerably.

That sense was telling me.

“You are, the ashen-haired one!”

That was not Count Maenenwood.

The body belonged to the Count, but the one screaming now was not him, but another soul.

“Lock the doors.”

That soul recognized me.

I don't know how it did it, but one thing was certain.

I was caught.

“So it was you. I saw you through Arup Roshan’s eyes.”

The situation was quickly falling into place.

Count Maenenwood had been possessed by another soul.

That soul made the Count betray both the Emperor and the Marquis.

That fiend was probably a hero of Indika.

He had seen me through the eyes of his subordinate.

Therefore, he knew that I was a mercenary captain, a paladin, and a mage.

“Huhu, what luck. For the nuisance to walk right in on his own two feet.”

However, there was one thing he didn't know.

The mercenary captain, Ash, was not all that I was.

The psychopathic, perverted necromancer who had now become my second identity was also quite talented.

Above all, that necromancer possessed one of the most excellent skills for exorcism.

[Activating [Small Subspace].]

[Activating [Soul Absorption].]

I took out a sword and a staff from the subspace.