Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"As you command!"

...

...

[Location Unknown]

[Time Unknown]

Aside from the maddening sound of dripping water, Alonso finally heard something different:

The creak of a door hinge turning, the dull thud of wooden planks hitting the ground, increasingly distinct approaching footsteps... Someone was coming—two people, it seemed. They moved closer to his side and replaced the iron chains binding his limbs with shackles.

Alonso was hauled upright and then dragged out of the dungeon.

The air became noticeably fresher. Logs crackled and popped in a fireplace, dispelling the cold dampness of the dungeon.

"That's more like it," Alonso thought to himself.

The rebels didn't interrogate him immediately after capturing him, perhaps prioritizing firefighting efforts instead.

But nearly two days had passed, and they left him in the dungeon without uttering a word. Clearly, it was deliberate—were they using imprisonment as an interrogation method?

"How insulting," Alonso thought. He rehearsed the potential interrogation process in his mind: coercion, intimidation, torture. When he could no longer hold out, he'd feed them some half-true, half-false information, all while buying time for the envoy to locate him.

The brief journey soon came to an end, and Alonso was tied to a cold, hard chair with armrests.

The hood was removed from his head, and he found himself in a small, windowless, nailed-shut room—still oblivious to the current time.

On the other side of the long table sat Major John Thomas, the second-ranking military officer of Solingen State, waiting for him.

Next to Major Thomas was the Fake Baron. With a pale complexion and a hint of fatigue on his face, he idly played with a deck of cards.

...

...

[Location: Safe House in Steel Fort's Northern District]

[Time: The Day After the Old City's Fire]

Throughout the day, reports from various parts of Steel Fort continued to pour into this temporary command hub.

Most of the news was bad—many safe houses were either abandoned or had already been compromised.

And yet, the true storm clearly hadn't begun. Once the enemy's hands were freed, there would certainly be a more severe, carpet-style search to follow.

Still, there was some good news: several combat-ready subordinates had been successfully retrieved, and even a waiting "Advisor" was located.

The unexpected bonus was reestablishing contact with the remnants of the Empire's Security Committee's intelligence network—despite violating the operational doctrine of mutual isolation between the White Eagle and the Emperor's Hand. However, given the urgency of recovering the envoy, the White Eagle could no longer be picky about rules.

"The construction standards for the rebel's permanent camps are nearly identical to those of His Majesty's New Army."

The speaker was sketching on paper:

"The camp is divided into three sections—front, middle, and rear—by four intersecting roads. The prison is usually located in the central section, adjacent to shared buildings such as the armory, officers' quarters, and the regimental hall. A side gate provides direct access to this central area, but you'd have to pass through two guard posts."

"The front and rear sections house the barracks and training grounds and are typically staffed with two battalions of rebel troops. An assault on the central section would inevitably alert the soldiers in the barracks."

"However, currently, most rebel forces are engaged in extinguishing fires on South Mountain. Those not involved in firefighting are enforcing martial law within the city. This has left only a small contingent of auxiliary troops in the camp—indicating weak defenses, which suggests no critical individuals are being held there."

"Still, considering the presence of pseudo-magic users within the rebel ranks, the weak defenses may well be a ruse. A false facade of lax security might be designed to lure us into a trap."

The White Eagle scrutinized the camp diagram for a long moment before finally asking, "Have the rebel commanders shown any activity?"

"The rebels' top-ranking military officer in Solingen State, Marx Berni, has remained out of sight. For the past two days, his deputy, John Thomas, has been commanding operations. As for 'Junior Berni,' who briefly commanded the militia in the northern city during the night of the fire, he, too, has not been seen since."

When it came to intelligence collection and processing, the Emperor's Hand far outclassed the White Eagle.

"After extensive verification, Marx Berni has neither a son nor a nephew. 'Junior Berni' is undoubtedly an alias. Judging from the compiled information, my assessment..." The deputy supervisor of the Emperor's Hand in Steel Fort hesitated before delivering his conclusion: "The mysterious 'Junior Berni' is likely the rebels' pseudo-magic user—and one of considerable rank."

The White Eagle abruptly recalled the Knight at White Eagle Manor, the one who had decapitated an Advisor with a single sword strike. A sharp pain from the wound in his abdomen flared up again. "When did the rebels' counterfeits become capable of taking on the Emperor's Advisors?"

"Although rebel pseudo-magic users often fall significantly short of Advisors, we've confirmed that in Mountain Front Territory and Vineta, a few elite individuals have reached levels capable of rivaling Advisors."

"Mountain Front Territory, Vineta—elite exceptions? Then what about the one here in Steel Fort?"

"It could only have been pre-deployment," the deputy answered calmly. "I believe the current situation evolved as it did because there was a leak at some stage. The rebels made thorough preparations ahead of time, turning our planned actions into a plunge into their trap. This, I believe, is the only way to explain our failure."

"I'm not interested in leaks. I want the envoy."

"The envoy was last seen at the Lakeside Inn in the Southern District. On the night of the fire, there was reportedly a small-scale skirmish there, with significant casualties. The exact outcome remains unknown, as the rebels have locked down the area. The envoy and the Advisors tasked with protecting him are now missing." Changing his tone, the deputy added, "However, one thing can be confirmed—we do have a high-value individual in enemy custody."

"Who?"

"Mr. Kapufen, one of the two committee supervisors for South Monta—and my superior."

The White Eagle narrowed his eyes. "Evidence?"

The deputy turned to glance at a corner of the hidden room. A man wearing an iron mask was seated there.

The White Eagle also looked toward the corner. "My lord?"

The masked man gave a slight nod, speaking tersely, "I saw it."

Seizing the moment, the deputy continued, "Reliable intelligence indicates that Mr. Kapufen was secretly transferred to the garrison camp on the night he was captured."

The White Eagle stated coldly, "You want my men to rescue your superior."

"If the envoy has indeed been captured, there's a good chance he's being held in the same location as Mr. Kapufen," the deputy paused briefly. "Moreover, we cannot afford to lose Mr. Kapufen either."

The White Eagle showed little reaction to the latter part of the statement, only asking, "Have you considered what might happen if the rebels' elite pseudo-magic users are guarding that camp? Do you know the risk of us walking straight into their trap?"

Internally, the deputy sighed. With the envoy missing, Steel Fort had no one who could integrate intelligence and action into a coherent strategy.

Gathering his composure, he calmly replied, "That's precisely what I wanted to address. In fact, not only Marx Berni and Junior Berni have vanished—every pseudo-magic user we know of in the rebel system has been absent since the night of the fire. There are rumors that some officers sustained severe injuries during the fire-fighting efforts. Also, Paulo Wuper, the city mayor, summoned the best doctors in Steel Fort to his home, though he himself has been staying in the municipal palace. I suspect..."

"Speak! Don't stammer!"

The deputy licked his lips. "I suspect that the fire tornado that destroyed Erwin's Great Cathedral on the night of the blaze was actually a large-scale rebel magic. Forcing such a spell would undoubtedly come with a steep price for their pseudo-magic users. Marx Berni and Junior Berni have stayed out of sight not out of choice but necessity—I believe they're both gravely injured. While the garrison might be a trap, I also believe that this is their weakest moment."

The White Eagle pondered silently for a long time before finally turning to the Advisor in the corner. "My lord, is it possible for a large-scale magic to leave its user incapacitated?"

The Advisor replied curtly, "Possible."

"Even if it's a trap," the White Eagle's palm traced over the hastily drawn camp map. Gritting his teeth and with a twitching jaw, he declared, "It seems we have no choice but to step in."