Chapter LXVII

  With the sound of weapons falling to the ground, he could finally let out a sigh of relief. Fortunately, they had finally given up, just moments before Sorana’s men stormed into the camp.

  For a brief moment, it seemed as if, unaware of the surrender, they would be attacking the compact force ahead of them. This led some of the surrendered men to hesitate and reach down to retrieve their weapons.

  But, fortunately, Irina took advantage of the arrival of reinforcements to reveal herself and loudly decre that Figor’s royal forces had surrendered—and that they should be treated well.

  With this whole mess finally resolved, his legs, which had already been feeling weak, gave out. He sank to the ground, his hands beginning to tremble.

  “Damn it, how do I keep getting myself into these messes?” he thought to himself.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, the answer to this particur mess appeared. Sorana emerged from somewhere and rushed toward her friend. The two met embracing tightly.

  Watching the happy reunion, he couldn’t help but feel irritated. Yes, irritated with Sorana, whom he had known from the very day he met her would be nothing but trouble. She had already caused him to destroy a giant spider and its precious eggs—just to save her and those fools who wanted to capture her.

  But what truly annoyed him was how he had let himself get dragged into yet another predicament. He had a feeling this was going to be trouble, though he had no idea just how big of a problem.

  Frustrated, he buried his face in his hands, trying not to see this crappy world. But the gesture had little effect, considering he could still see through them. A minor side effect of the invisibility spell.

  Lying back on the ground, he reflected on how this very spell was partly responsible for this whole disaster.

  When Sorana had asked for his help, he had been about to refuse. But when she had promised a gold coin for each egg… well, that would have solved one of his biggest concerns—the risk of the eggs spoiling or getting damaged, before he could sell them. That, and the vulnerability she had shown while begging him for aid. It gave him a chance of heart.

  Leading him to consider using the spell he had acquired during his fight with the vampires. With this invisibility spell, he could infiltrate the camp and rescue the so-called princess with minimal risk.

  The only thing he cked was her exact location. And for that, all he needed was to convince the enemy soldier they had captured to lead him to her. It had taken only a little pressure for the man to give in, or as he had believed at the time, for the man to pretend to give in.

  He had fully expected the soldier to betray him the moment he was safe, reporting everything to the camp's commander. But the damn fool had actually stuck to their deal—finding the girl and even telling her she was going to be rescued.

  That was when his pns started to fall apart.

  Originally, he had intended to reveal himself to the princess discreetly and wait until nightfall, when it would have been much easier to sneak her out under the cover of darkness. Between the night and his spells—though he couldn’t turn her invisible—escaping should have been simple.

  But the soldier had been caught by a guard while with her, forcing him to act sooner than pnned. Even so, that part had gone retively well.

  The real problem arose when they had to flee in broad daylight.

  He had been forced to create a distraction with his fireballs, which he had cast under the terror of being discovered. All seemed to go smoothly.

  That was until he had returned to the side of the two fools, who had almost been caught when the commander of this damn camp revealed himself to be the most intelligent person he had encountered in this world—realizing the fireballs to be distractions.

  Once again, this had forced him to act in the moment. He had captured the commander to draw all attention to himself. After all, between the resistance granted by the Shield of Ortan and his ability to vanish with Shadow of the Moon, he was convinced he could escape unscathed.

  And yet, instead of taking the opportunity to flee, those two idiots just stood there in their hiding spot, as if expecting him to take down a small army on his own.

  The only thing that had saved them was Sorana’s arrival with her troops. Making the enemy consider surrendering. But even that hadn’t gone smoothly.

  When he had seen them hesitating, unsure whether to surrender, he had decided to make a show of force. And what better way than to demonstrate a mage’s resistance to physical attacks? Surely, he was still under the effects of Ortan’s Shield—all he needed was to take a few arrows, and they’d start panicking.

  It had been an excellent pn.

  Except, that of the three archers he had seen, not one of them reacted. The only person who moved after he let go of their leader… was the leader himself.

  The bastard had sshed him with a sword, cutting his arm.

  Remembering this, he clutched his arm—though still invisible, it was easy to find, especially since it still ached. Phantom pain, no doubt. After all, he had already healed it. Thankfully, the sight of him instantly recovering seemed to have shattered what little fighting spirit they had left.

  In fact, turning his head, he could see their commander, pale as a ghost, being restrained by Sorana’s men. Though he was too far to hear clearly, it seemed the man was asking his captors what was going on. He looked utterly defeated.

  With some effort, Nero forced himself to focus on the present.

  That was easier said than done, considering the tremors running through his entire body. “Must be the adrenaline,” he thought, struggling to get back on his feet.

  In a way, he was grateful for the invisibility—at least no one could see his current state. Considering that he was sure showing any sign of weakness would end badly for him, he was doubly thankful for this small stroke of luck.

  For a moment, he even considered staying put, invisible, to recover a bit. But the thought of someone tripping over him quickly dismissed that idea.

  So, with determination, he got up.

  In the distance, he spotted the mule with Blondie and Grumpy. And to his concern, it seemed like the mule was staring right at him.

  Even knowing that Moon’s Shadow wasn’t the best invisibility spell, a mere undead mule shouldn’t have been able to see him. Immediately, a theory formed in his mind—perhaps, since he had created the creature, it could somehow sense him. A potentially useful but troubling thought.

  Shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts aside. He had bigger concerns. Namely, getting out of here before he was dragged into any more nonsense.

  So he made his way toward Sorana, intent on collecting his payment and leaving.

  As he approached, he saw that the old man had also come to greet the princess.

  "Your Highness, it’s good to see you well," said the man, who, despite his white hair, still looked capable of knocking someone out with a single punch.

  "Thank you, Grint. It’s also good to see that you escaped the attack unharmed," replied the princess.

  "Yes… I only regret that I was unable to prevent your capture," the old man began, but the blonde princess raised a hand to stop him.

  "What’s done is done. What matters now is the state of our forces. I hope we haven’t suffered too many losses."

  But the man’s expression made it clear that his response wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear.

  Not wanting to get dragged into this conversation, Nero interrupted.

  "I believe this means my job is done."

  As he spoke, his spell ended, revealing him to them—causing them to jump in surprise. And a rather concerning sight—the old man instinctively reaching for his sword.

  "Oh! Lord Nero!!" the man excimed.

  "Oh, a new trick, Nero?" Sorana added.

  The princess simply commented, "You didn’t know, Sorana?"

  "That he can appear out of nowhere? No, I didn’t. But Nero here loves keeping his tricks to himself," Sorana answered with a wide grin.

  "I delivered as promised. Now, my payment, Sorana," Nero said, not in the mood for her antics.

  And, unsurprisingly…

  "You know very well. I don’t just carry that much gold around. Wait a moment, and I’ll get it for you..." she begins to say, even sounding quite sincere. But he believes she might actually have the money— probably just wanting something more from him.

  So, he closes his eyes, calms himself, and with a smile, says to her, “Sorana, my dear, you’re not trying to trick me, are you?”

  Her joy quickly vanishes. And it is the princess who responds, “Of course not, Lord Nero. Surely Sorana was just so worried about my capture that she forgot to bring the money.”

  “Yes, just as Irina said. As soon as we return to our camp, you’ll get your payment,” says Sorana seeming to regain some of her spirit, continuing asking, “How could you even think I would leave a debt unpaid?”

  But he’s not fooled. She definitely wants something. After all, she went looking for him with a purpose—maybe even hoping to recruit him for this little war of them.

  “Our agreement was that I would rescue her, and you would give me nineteen gold coins for my eggs,” he says carefully, emphasizing his next words. “And that was all. You weren’t going to ask anything else of me.”

  “Did you really say that Sorana?” asks the princess.

  “Yes, that was the deal,” the old man answers before turning to him and continuing, “And I assured him it would be honored. So, give me a moment. Surely, there must be some money in this camp. Enough to pay you at least.” With that, the man straightens up gives a slight nod, and walks away.

  “It was the only way. I saw no other way to save you,” Sorana tells her friend.

  “Yes, I understand the necessity...” Irina begins to comment.

  That’s when he hears movement behind him. Turning, he sees the mule and the other two approaching. Blondie even raises a hand to wave at him.

  Turning back to the girls, who are exchanging intense, silent gnces, the blonde focuses on him. After a brief hesitation, she speaks.

  “Lord Nero.”

  Immediately, he senses trouble coming. So, he raises a hand to signal her to stop right there—he’s not interested in hearing more.

  But she speaks before he can stop her.

  “Do you mind if I ask you about the Nintar?” Her voice is tense and anxious.

  Just like her gaze, as she waits for an answer. But for a few seconds, he can only look at her and Sorana, not quite understanding the question.

  That is until he remembers that part of the forces previously hunting Sorana were Nintar. The pseudo-ninjas of this game—honestly, he had almost forgotten about them.

  One thing is certain, though: getting involved in more of these girls' troubles is definitely not good for his health. Even now, he had only managed to escape this rescue mission unharmed by some miracle.

  “Yes,” he replies, making them look at him hopefully. Which means he needs to be clearer. “Yes, I mind. So, it’s better if we don’t talk about it anymore.”

  Sorana steps forward, exciming, “Come on, don’t be like that! I went after you so we could learn more about them. Do you have any idea how useful they could be for our mission?”

  Of course, he understands how a group of mysterious, highly trained secret agents could be useful in uncovering exactly how their former king died. But he just doesn’t see how that concerns him.

  As if reading his thoughts, Sorana adds, “If you want, we’re willing to pay for your information.”

  “You haven’t even paid me for this job yet!” That seems to shut her up. But still, he adds, “Besides, what makes you think I know anything that would interest you?”

  “Oh, come on, Nero. You managed to make a group of Nintar back off just by talking to them,” Sorana argues, a little too loudly, drawing gnces from nearby soldiers.

  “Wrong, Sorana. I simply expined to a group of trainees that they didn’t have the skills to do what they were trying to do. That’s all,” he calmly tries to expin.

  “And you did that by revealing details about their territory—where outsiders haven’t set foot for at least eighty years,” she counters.

  “Please, Lord Nero, your assis—” the blonde princess begins, her voice serene, clearly trying to be diplomatic.

  “Wrong again, Sorana. Your enemies managed to hire them to come after you, so there must be some kind of contact with the outside world,” he says, turning to the two fools beside him for support. “Right?”

  Hearing the question, both Grumpy and Blondie widen their eyes at being dragged into the conversation before wisely nodding in agreement.

  Even if they look like they’re being threatened, at least it’s some support.

  “Nero, of course, they have contact with the outside world. But direct contact...” Sorana starts to argue.

  But with an irritated sigh, he decides to try another approach.

  “What makes you think I know something you actually want to hear?”

  “You’re repeating yourself, we already expi...” she keeps arguing.

  “I think you misheard me. Let’s be clearer. What makes you think you're willing to pay the price for my information?” he tries again.

  “Lord Nero, I can assure you that we won’t have any problems paying you,” the princess answers seriously.

  That only makes him ugh.

  “Not what you’ll pay me. What the Nintar will make you pay.”

  This makes them stop and look at him gravely.

  “We’re talking about a highly isoted and reserved culture. One that treasures their privacy. That controls a network of highly trained agents.” They listen carefully as he emphasizes this point.

  So continuing, “How do you think they’ll react if someone starts exposing their secrets?”

  From the looks they exchange, he can tell they’re getting the message.

  “Look, I don’t know how to contact them. And Sorana, if you noticed st time, I had to talk a lot before they believed I could defeat them. So, there’s nothing I can tell you that would make that contact any easier.” Seeing them nod in agreement makes him think they’re finally getting it.

  “If you want to mention me to them, go ahead. But I doubt it’ll help.” He adds, trying to give them some hope. Since he pns to be far from here when that happens, it won’t be his problem.

  Looking around, he sees the old soldier returning with a pouch in hand.

  “Grumpy, our payment is coming. Give them the eggs.”

  Grumpy obeys immediately, and he and his friend go retrieve the eggs the mule carries.

  “You don’t need to worry about that, Lord Nero. We won’t...” the blonde starts, but a heavy look from him makes her fall silent.

  “Grumpy, give them their goods. And check the money. Not a coin more or less,” he decres. After all, a deal is a deal. And he really doesn’t want to keep worrying about those damn eggs, which took forever to sell.

  As the old soldier arrives, they begin exchanging the eggs for money.

  While they’re busy, he looks into the distance and sees Fedor being kept away from his former comrades—or what used to be his comrades. He understands why. What are they supposed to do with him?

  The poor guy is a traitor—someone they can’t trust. But they also can’t put him back with the people he betrayed.

  “What do you pn to do with him?” he asks, nodding toward the poor man.

  The princess looks at him before answering, “I’ll take care of him. After all, he helped save me.”

  She seems serious about it. So, satisfied with the answer, he just shrugs.

  “Nero, we’re done,” Grumpy announces.

  “Great. Let’s go,” he decides, immediately walking away.

  Sorana starts to speak, but he cuts her off with, “Goodbye, then. See you never.”

  Without hesitation, they part ways with Sorana and her little group of rebels.

  At some distance from all that mess, as they walk. He looks at the bloodstained tear in his sleeve, caused by that damned commander, and mutters, “Fantastic. Now I have to wash and sew this.” a problem considering he is a crapp at sewing.

  Looking at his ragged clothes, he sighs in frustration.

  “Too bad you didn’t ask Sorana for new clothes. With all those men in that camp, there must have been something that fits you,” Blondie says casually.

  He just stares at the blond guy, thinking, “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

  And with that frustrating thought, he can only excim, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”