Muherjo nodded, gave us a final glance, and headed for the exit, still muttering under his breath -something about dakta and unclean corpses.
The dwarf’s corpse was badly mangled - Lynx’s claws had done their work - but creating a ghoul didn’t require a pristine body. At my command, tendrils of dark magic coiled around me and then surged into the corpse. Threads of mana snaked through the remains, binding shattered parts into something functional. Slowly, the battered dwarf began to stir, making his first clumsy attempt to stand. His lower body hadn’t yet stabilized, so he slumped back, twitching as the mana knitted him together.
Drackar raised an eyebrow. Wortar cursed and took a step back. I raised a brow: honestly, what had he expected?
The dwarf ghoul looked around, blinked slowly, then shook his head.
“Oh my. To be killed by unworthy orcs...” he muttered with disdain, shaking his head.
His voice came out raw and grating - understandable, considering his throat was still partially shredded. I hadn’t spent much mana to reconstruct him. I had no plans to keep him around longer than necessary.
“If you don’t mind, I did kill you!” Lynx protested, clearly offended.
The dwarf glanced in his direction and shook his head.
“No, I don’t remember you. The orcs had some kind of cursed, trained cat that took us by surprise!” he huffed.
Lynx snorted. Drackar chuckled. But before that could escalate into another argument, I stepped in.
“Ahem! Who are you, and what were you doing in my domain?” I asked.
The dwarf turned toward me, his expression tightening.
“I am... I am... I am...” he repeated, eyes darting around wildly, then looking down at himself as if confused by his own body.
I sighed.
“Forget about that. Tell me who you were, and what you were doing here.”
His posture straightened, like a mechanism rebooting, and he began speaking in a flat, mechanical tone, as if reciting from a script.
“I was G'hortortworak, second mechanic of the fourth platoon of the third company of Division 453. We were on a mission with the primary objective to observe and retrieve Her Highness, Thiara de Hollybrun, the Golden Virgin Wife of his Highness the Golden Emperor. Secondary objective: eliminate the kidnappers: Cala the Assassin and her mercenary, Alice Sevenbrunn, and collect the bounty.”
I took a deep breath.
Okay. At least now there was no doubt. These were Krawags, and they were here for Tina.
I scanned him:
“How did you find out she was here?” I asked.
“I did not find that out,” he replied in the same flat tone.
I rolled my eyes.
“How did the Empire find out?” I clarified.
“They did not find out,” he said calmly.
I blinked, stunned. Could a ghoul defy its master? That would be unprecedented, at least as far as I knew. But he just stood there, blinking ‘innocently.’
“Who sent you?” I pressed.
“The Nineteenth Directorate, responsible for special operations sent us on a mission with the primary objective to observe and retrieve Her Highness Thiara de Hollybrun, the Golden Virgin Wife of..."
“Spare me the full titles and use simple names!” I snapped.
“But that would be a grave breach of protocol!” he protested.
“You’re a ghoul. The protocol doesn’t apply to you anymore,” I said flatly.
He glanced down at himself, as if only now realizing what he was.
“Oh…” he murmured, blinking. “I forgot that.”
“So, how did the Nineteenth Directorate find out that Thiara was here?” I asked.
“They didn’t find out. They only sent us. Their role is...”
“Who the fuck did find out!?” I exploded, cutting him off. For a moment, I almost blasted the dwarf straight to Nirvana. But he just stood there, confused by my outburst.
“I don’t know exactly who uncovered her location,” he replied. “It must have been someone from the Fourteenth Directorate. That’s their job, not the Nineteenth’s,” he added, almost defensively. “The Nineteenth Directorate is responsible for preparing and dispatching resources toward the assigned targets designated by the Third Directorate.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my frayed nerves.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
“And how did they find out?”
“The Fourteenth usually doesn’t disclose its sources,” he admitted. “But in this special case, I do know, because it was in the file. The Imperial… uh, Thiara… had exchanged messages with her parents. I believe that’s how they tracked her. It was mentioned in the mission's dossier.”
I blinked. That was unexpected.
“But messages sent through the Adventurer’s Guild are supposed to be protected. Confidential. Not traceable by third parties,” I said, frowning.
He shrugged. “The content might be harder to track, yes. But in this case, there was a request to the guild to forward messages addressed to her ID directly to this castle’s mailbox. The information about that request was easier to access.”
I froze.
Oh… fucking fuck.
It had been that easy?
“May I ask a question?” Lynx asked, stepping forward and resting a hand on my shoulder.
“Sure, go on,” I said with a sigh, then turned to the ghoul. “Answer his questions.”
The dwarf blinked and turned his head toward Lynx.
“But he hasn’t asked anything...”
Thankfully, Lynx ignored him and proceeded.
“How were you able to spy on us? How did you remain undetected?”
At this, the dwarf nodded solemnly. “We followed protocol fifteen-one-one...”
“Explain that in detail,” Lynx interrupted, “as if you're talking to someone who’s never heard of your protocols.”
My left eye twitched when the ghoul failed to respond—until I realized: that hadn’t been a question. It was an order.
“Do as he told you,” I added.
The dwarf resumed speaking in that harsh, rasping ghoul voice, but slower now, like a drill instructor addressing a room full of raw recruits.
“Protocol fifteen-one-one for data gathering in enemy territory recommends establishing a concealed base as close as possible to the target zone and deploying unobservable reconnaissance units. In our case, we stationed our hovercraft in the center of Lake D-zero and conducted our operations from there. We didn’t even need to stay submerged the whole time, a dual-layer invisibility shield was sufficient to keep the vessel hidden.”
“Lake D-zero?” I asked, frowning.
“Yes. That is the name we assigned to the lake nearest Orcmound Castle.”
“Oh. And you just walked around the domain with invisibility shields?” I asked, skeptical. Lynx looked visibly upset, clearly not wanting to believe that was even possible.
“No, that would’ve been too risky,” the ghoul replied. “There are too many high-level individuals in the domain who could’ve spotted us. We used our minions to spy.”
“Minions?” I echoed.
He glanced at his shoulder and sighed.
“My tattoo is gone. So, my minion must be dead.”
I raised a brow.
“Explain. What are these minions? I want to know everything about them!”
“But that’s not possible, master,” he said, sounding genuinely distressed. “There are as many kinds of minions as people can imagine! I don’t know everything about them.”
He looked sincerely troubled by his inability to fulfill my request that I refrained from blasting off one of his limbs. Not like it would hurt him anyway. I sighed.
“Fine. Explain what you do know about minions.”
“Minions appear in as many forms as people can imagine. A minion can range between one and ten percent of a person's mass. There are seventeen main categories, each with various functionalities and...”
“Start with a simple overview,” I whispered. His grating voice was starting to wear on my nerves.
He nodded.
“Minions are a gift from Our Great God Khat’U’Dhal to each of us Krawags on our first long-year birthday. After one year, the minion is absorbed and reunited with God during the Birthday Celebrations, bringing us closer to oneness with our Great God. Every day, some among us celebrate this sacred occasion. Once the old minion is returned to Him, a new one is created in the form we desire.”
“And how did that help you spy on us?” I asked.
“Master, my minion was a dragonfly,” the ghoul replied. “She could detach from me whenever I willed it. I could see through her eyes and hear what she heard. She looked so graceful and delicate, and she could fly far and fast.”
“Was this something like a shaman’s animal control?” I asked, frowning.
He shook his head, the shredded flesh of his neck flapping disturbingly with the motion.
“No. That’s why it’s so perfect for spying. Some creatures can sense the mana threads when someone uses a control spell on an animal. But our minions are just living beings. I was her, and she was me,” he explained. “We were one. A minion is carved from our spirit and flesh.”
“Oh... I see.”
It sounded similar to Mike’s ability to split into two birds, except in this case, the original person stayed behind while the copy flew off. A kind of lopsided transformation.
“So, where is Thiara now?” I asked, raising a brow.
He shrugged, then shook his head with a bit too much enthusiasm. A chunk of something flew from his neck. Maybe I should’ve put more effort into fixing him.
“I don’t know,” he said.
I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my rising frustration.
“Where could she be? What was the plan for Thiara once you captured her?” Lyn asked saving me again.
“She should be in her cell,” the ghoul replied. “The Virgin Queen and Güntram, the Golden Emperor’s son, are to be the main offerings in the sacrificial rite to our Great God Khat’U’Dhal during the Solstice Celebration—alongside the rest of the slaves—at the Great Slaves Replacement Festival.”
I blinked, stunned.
“What? You didn’t intend to return her to the Emperor?” I asked, aghast.
The ghoul chuckled. He actually chuckled.
“No, certainly not,” he said, amused.
Can a ghoul be amused? I wondered.
“As a special operations unit of the Republic," he continued, "our mission was to capture her and ensure she joined Güntram, the Emperor’s son, who has already been designated for the sacrifice. She is part of the tribute the Emperor pays, just like his son. For her extraction from this location, he offered one hundred thousand gold.”
I nearly lost my composure entirely.
“And where is this sacrifice supposed to take place?” I asked.
“In the presence of our Great God Khat’U’Dhal,” he answered solemnly, “on the grand sacrificial market in Guadalquatz.”
Guadalquatz is the capital of their republic. And the summer solstice was only a few quarters away.
“How many of you were in this group? And what was the plan?” Lyn asked.
“We were five, each with an olmec: that makes a shock troop of ten, all above level ninety. The fight was supposed to be a breeze,” the ghoul sighed. “But we suffered too many casualties. The XIIth Directorate will need to revise their estimations. And then that coward, Dermhartz, ran off with Turmoc the moment they got their hands on the girl, leaving me behind with only two olmecs to clean up the mess and recover anything still operational. No armor is to be left in the hands of infidels! If they had stayed, we would’ve killed that damn cat!”
Lyn snorted. We exchanged a glance, and I sighed.
“Ask any other questions you want answered,” I said, “then I’ll dismiss him.”
Lyn shrugged.
“Maybe you should keep him…”