Chapter 7 Interlude

A tall man was staggering towards the door, closely followed by several agile men dressed as warriors. Komer and Ilot exchanged glances and stopped climbing into the carriage, silently observing everything unfolding before them.

The stumbling tall man was clearly wounded, as could be seen from the path of his run. Dispersed drops of blood extended along the flat stone slabs, and his coordination suggested significant impairment.

However, upon seeing Komer and the others standing in front of the horse-drawn carriage, the tall man seemed to rally suddenly, quickly running in their direction.

The pursuing warriors behind him also noticed his intent and immediately lunged in an attempt to subdue him, but the fleeing man was obviously no weakling. His long sword made several fierce and tricky slashing motions that blocked the warriors' path of pursuit. Then, with a series of elegant rolls close to the ground, he suddenly ended up in front of Piro, who still hadn't quite reacted, his blood-stained long sword now pressed against Piro's neck.

"How dare you!" "Impudence!" A string of angry roars erupted from the mouths of the warriors, but they feared to throw a stone at a rat for fear of breaking a vase. Seeing the gleaming edge of the blade soaked on the edge of their master's immaculately tied cravat, they seemed to have no options besides reprimanding.

"Remove your sword." Although it was his first time encountering such an incident, Piro's long-cultivated composure and personal dignity meant he never wished to show any lapse in front of outsiders or servants. Frowning slightly, he pondered how to deal with the difficult situation while calmly offering his suggestion, "If you are a slave, you have achieved your goal. I can release you from your slavery. Taking me hostage is of no benefit to you, and it will be hard for you to escape from Homer."

Komer and Ilot watched the scene before them with great interest.

The tall man holding Piro hostage was likely a slave, evident from the huge tear in his otherwise neat jacket, through which a chain that crossed his collarbone peeked from the torn fabric. The purulent wound looked somewhat off-putting, with clotted blood and pus intertwined like the gaping mouth of a Magical Beast, particularly glaring.

His slightly pale face featured a pair of deep-set eyes a deep gray color, with some disheveled gray-yellow hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead due to the sweat from running. His chest was heaving like a huge bellows, panting non-stop, indicative of how much energy he had expended over the distance.

His sharp gaze shifted over Komer and Ilot, but the sword never left Piro's neck, firmly controlling the major artery there. It was evident that this fellow was likely a master at killing.

Ilot seemed somewhat excited by the situation, his eagerness barely concealable. His hand on his waist, gripping the hilt of his sword, was already tight, ready to attack upon a signal from Komer.

This was a rare opportunity, although the opponent had control over Mr. Piro. However, judging by the consistent strength in his hand, Ilot was quite confident he could neutralize the man before the sword could harm the hostage.

But Komer gestured with his eyes to stop Ilot from taking any risky action. The powerfully built man in front of them was already struggling to control his own body, the intense exertion pushing his stamina to its limits. This fellow was likely a standard military man.

He had realized this too. Given the current situation, he wouldn't be able to run much further. His only reliance was the hostage in his hand, but the hostage's resolute composure clearly enraged him. Maybe just a little more provocation would trigger an explosion of rage, even leading him to desperate measures.

The opponent obviously sensed the hostility and danger from the two opposite him. Although Komer made no moves or expressions, even maintaining an unusually kind demeanor, his long experience in combat and fighting allowed him to immediately sense that this seemingly gentle man might actually be the most dangerous enemy. The clearest proof was that the eager fellow had temporarily abandoned his intention to assault, simply based on the look in Komer's eyes.

Quietly, he focused his attention on this young man. His slightly immature face showed no signs of anything out of the ordinary, but his life-and-death experience and intuition honed in the midst of blades and swords told him there was definitely something unusual about this guy.

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However, it seemed that he no longer had the luxury to ponder further, as the other party had already presented a challenge with a smile, "Release Mr. Piro, for Mr. Piro's promises are as solid as gold. Since he has agreed to remove your status as a slave and grant you your freedom, you should be satisfied. Do not make any more excessive demands."

The rugged-faced, towering man showed a hint of wariness. He couldn't explain why, but he felt like a frog being watched by a snake, and a faint, chilling sensation began to creep up his back, "I have a companion, and I wish to leave with him. This is my only request."

"A request? Do you think you're in any position to be making requests?" Komer laughed, shaking his head. He thought the man was delusional, believing he could control the situation, "This is Homer, this is Cyprus. Do you really think you can walk out of here?"

"How would I know unless I try?" The man sensed imminent danger as the sword blade was nearly pressing into Piro's somewhat tilted neck. Komer knew he couldn't hesitate any longer. With a silent chant and a flick of his fingers, a strange ripple distorted the space between them, and a bolt of lightning-based paralyzing magic shot out stealthily.

His body shook violently as the tall man tried to control his wrist with all his might. However, he found himself suddenly and completely soaked in paralysis, unable to control even his toes. His body swayed and then collapsed softly to the ground, with the words he tried to shout out stuck in his throat, filled with immense resentment and regret as he fell.

Piro and Ilot both looked at Komer with surprise, who hadn't even changed his posture. Although they didn't see how Komer made his move, they faintly guessed that he had resolved the crisis with some kind of magic.

It could only have been an act of magic. Piro had long known that this newly appointed Lord of the Caucasus wouldn't be so easily handled, otherwise his father, who was always keen-eyed, wouldn't have valued him so highly. But he never expected that Komer was a magician or even a mage.

He didn't know the extent of Komer's mastery over magic, but the fact that he effortlessly dealt with a burly man, who was also an agile soldier, meant that he couldn't be underestimated. Piro couldn't help but grow even more curious about Komer.

"Alright, Mr. Piro, who is this guy? He seems to have some tricks up his sleeve to have escaped from your guards," Komer said with a smile, shaking his head in response to the gratitude expressed by Piro, then asking curiously.

"Er, this guy must be from the Myron Duchy. By his appearance, he does resemble one of Myron's warriors. Sadly, the capital of Myron Duchy, Mycenae, has been overrun by beastmen. The entire city of Mycenae has become ruin, the castle plundered and dismantled, a gem on the shore of Lake Anduin, lost. The Myron Duchy no longer exists; these guys are probably defeated deserters or prisoners, sold off, I presume."

While gesturing the guards to securely bind the man on the ground, who was filled with defiance and hatred, Piro shrugged, "It seems we were a bit careless; who would have thought this guy could break free even with his collarbone pierced. The reputation of Myron's warriors is indeed well deserved."

"Oh? Myron Duchy has fallen to the beastmen? When did this happen?" Before Komer could reply, Ilot, who had been silent, couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

The Myron Duchy was a small nation to the west of the Kingdom of Nicosia, a key ally in defending against the southern invasion of the beastmen. The news of its capture was shocking. What about the north of the kingdom? Both Ilot and Komer could see the shock in each other's eyes.

"This happened over three months ago," Piro said indifferently, noting the shocked expressions on their faces, "The situation in the northern part of the kingdom is equally tense. However, the kingdom's army has a relatively solid frontline in the north. The beastmen may be fierce, but by now they are likely at the end of their strength, unable to advance further. Yet the current situation is the most dire in decades. His Majesty the King is extremely furious, ordering the formation of the Iron Cross Corps, and I expect that transit taxes and territorial levies are about to increase."

"But with the fall of Myron Duchy, a huge gap has opened up on the kingdom's northwest side. Even if they fail this time, the beastmen will come pouring through that breach next time." Having spent two years on the Northern Front, Ilot was well aware that without Myron Duchy as a support, the empire's northern defenses were no longer intact, placing the kingdom in a precarious position.

"Heh, that's beyond our control now. I'm sure the nobles within Jazair City are more anxious than we are," Piro said with a hint of regret as he glanced at the man still struggling on the ground. The spell's effect was quickly fading on the severely weakened man, which spoke volumes of his resilience. He waved for the warrior guards who had tied the man up to carry him away, then added, "Though Myron's army is formidable, they are too few in number. Without the empire's support, the duchy's fate was inevitable."

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