The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 230

## Chapter 230

His eyes caught the scene of the soldiers patrolling around the building carrying torches.

It seemed that most of the forces had been sent toward the outer walls in anticipation of a night attack, so the vigilance in the inner fort was relatively lax; however, armed guards were still stationed near the main fortress.

Varkas observed the movement route of the guards while hiding behind a warehouse where wagons were lined up, and then moved toward the “Tw” tower, the towering structure that stood right in the heart of the castle.

At that moment, he saw a group of men carrying torches flocking out of the building.

Varkas remained hidden in the darkness, watching them intently. They were knights wearing heavy armor and possessing the enormous physical build characteristic of the northern people; they crossed the training yard heading toward the fort’s gate.

Varkas narrowed his eyes as he spotted a man of gigantic build among them, with an imposing physique and a blond and graying head of hair that resembled a lion’s mane. Despite the distance, he recognized him at first glance: it was “Bjorn Blodar Heimdall.”

“…Could he have sensed something?”

He watched the back of the retreating man for a moment, then turned around and headed toward the rear of the main fortress. He had to find Garis before the surveillance grew stricter.

He moved quickly pressed against the walls, protected by the dense shadows.

Shortly after, he found a small side door behind the stone building connected to the main fortress. He grabbed the handle and pulled it gently. It was locked, but it did not seem sturdy enough.

He wrapped his cloak around the lock area and then pulled the door handle with colossal strength. With a violent cracking sound, the door handle was torn away along with a piece of plywood. The sound was loud, but fortunately, it did not attract anyone’s attention.

He opened the door cautiously and went inside.

The place looked like a supply warehouse; the smell of rotten grain and the rancid trace of salted meat assaulted his nose. Varkas examined the wide space filled with piles of dry bread, meat, and cheese, then left the place to venture into a dark hallway.

At that instant, he sensed movement nearby.

He hid behind a column and looked in the direction of the sound. A burly man in heavy armor and a thin-built middle-aged man were coming down the stairs.

Their voices echoed faintly in the silent space:

—How long must we tolerate that reckless man? If the imperial court has no intention of paying the ransom, wouldn’t it be better to cut off his head immediately to satisfy the resentment of his excellence the duke?

—I am not ignorant of your feelings, but we cannot kill the crown prince now. He still has value as a hostage —the middle-aged man said in a majestic tone—. It is not only the court that desires the safe return of the crown prince. Behind him stand many conservative nobles led by Marquis Orestein. Furthermore, the supporters of imperial legitimacy who revere Emperor Darian will demand the crown prince’s ransom. If we buy time until they stir up public opinion, the emperor will have no choice but to yield to negotiations.

—But will the empress let things pass like this? That woman won’t let this opportunity pass either.

—The more that witch intervenes in an offensive manner, the more intense the reaction of the conservative nobles will be. The traditionalists’ hatred toward the empress exceeds imagination. Isn’t the fear of the Tarin family the main engine that unites the nobles to willingly accept the crown prince’s unstable temperament?

The middle-aged man added while patting the burly man’s shoulder:

—Therefore, we cannot ensure that the negotiations have failed just yet. It may be psychologically difficult, but try to indulge the whims of that reckless man for a little longer.

Then, without giving the man a chance to object, he crossed the lobby and went out through the arched door.

The burly man spat on the ground while looking at his back with resentment, and then went back up the stairs in anger.

Varkas followed him immediately.

The man climbed to the third floor with long strides and went out through a door at the end of the hallway. After a brief moment, Varkas approached the entrance where the man had gone out; before him appeared a hallway lit by torches and, at the end, the fort’s tower.

Varkas calculated the number of floors of the building, then crossed the stone corridor and cautiously entered through the arched entrance.

Just as he was about to climb the spiral staircase, he heard a brief gasp behind him. Varkas’s reaction was immediate.

He grabbed the head of a soldier who stood hesitant halfway up the stairs and pressed it hard against the wall; then, he released the mechanism fixed to his wrist guard, drew the dagger, and stabbed the man’s neck repeatedly.

Blood flowed from the carotid artery into the trachea, and the soldier began to suffocate before his body relaxed completely a few seconds later.

While he was trying to drag the corpse out of the tower, a hoarse voice echoed from above:

—I… intruder! There is an intruder…!

A soldier carrying a spear ran down the stairs in a panic.

Varkas unsheathed his longsword from his waist and swung it diagonally toward the fleeing soldier. The blade pierced through the soldier’s shoulder and exited through his other side with lightning speed. The soldier’s body split in two and fell rolling down the stairs, bleeding profusely.

The guards who had just burst in froze upon seeing such a scene.

Varkas did not waste that instant.

He stabbed his bloody sword into the chest of the nearest soldier, then kicked the body that was writhing in pain to make it roll down the stairs. Two soldiers who were advancing with their spears collided with the flying body of their companion, causing them to fall to the bottom of the staircase.

However, there was no time to catch his breath; soldiers were beginning to arrive upon hearing the commotion.

«It seems the silent infiltration has failed.»

Varkas clicked his tongue slightly and then ran upstairs toward the upper floors. It seemed that a large number of guards was also stationed above, as he saw burly soldiers carrying battleaxes hurrying down the arched stone staircase.

He deftly blocked the blade of a huge axe that fell over his head like lightning, and then slit the soldier’s throat in his next movement. He dodged the heavy body that leaned toward him and struck the face of the soldier behind with the pommel of his sword.

With a heavy impact, red blood gushed from the slits of the helmet that covered the soldier’s face. The soldier let out a cry of pain and unconsciously dropped his weapon to cover his face with his hands. Varkas did not hesitate, but brought down his sword to end the soldier’s suffering.

But before he could climb the steps, new enemies attacked. He drove his sword into the body of a soldier lunging at him, and then pushed the body ahead of him as he climbed the stairs. The soldier suddenly became a human shield and began to scream and flail violently.

The other soldiers drew back astonished upon seeing that. While they hesitated to direct their blades toward their companion’s body, Varkas withdrew his sword like lightning and began to slit the enemies’ throats one after another. He finished off three in the blink of an eye, but the escape route did not look easy; the spearmen were beginning to flow from the lower floor like a wave.

Varkas tightly gripped the handle of his sword, slippery and stained with blood, with both hands. Soon, it would not be limited only to the guards of the inner fort, but the regular army would also arrive. He would not be able to face all those enemies by himself.

«Should I try to escape now?»

While he struggled with his decision, he heard the sound of a horn echoing in the distance. He looked through the window; it seemed that the attack had begun as planned. He saw the soldiers carrying torches as they ran toward the fort’s gate.

Varkas entered a combat stance immediately. The main force would be busy facing the Empire’s army for a while, and this was the opportunity.

He swung his sword without hesitation toward the soldier lunging at him.

—Have they brought this garbage for me to eat now?!

Garis grabbed the cup and threw it against the wall. With a dull impact, the dark wine ran down the wall like bloodstains.

The northern jailer fixed his reddened eyes on him severely. Garis showed no retreat, but raised his chin defiantly.

—Bring me real wine immediately!

—Crown prince —the man said, snorting with anger—. It seems you are misunderstanding everything; you are here as a prisoner.

The giant who reached a height of 7 keft (210 cm) leaned toward him exhaling a heavy sigh.

—You are not a guest whom we must serve with reverence. If you do not keep quiet, we might make you swallow our waste instead of wine.

—How dare you… how dare a low-class noble like you address the crown prince of the Empire… —Garis’s face turned red with anger.

A brash and mocking laugh burst from the northern jailer, who looked at him with folded arms:

—Even if the crown prince’s grandfather came and not the crown prince himself, a prisoner is still a prisoner. Your life hangs by our hands.

He squeezed Garis’s shoulder with his thick hand tightly:

—So please, stay quiet.

Garis clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw was on the verge of breaking. He wanted to break this filthy traitor’s neck right now, but he did not have the means to defeat this giant with his bare hands. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.

The jailer walked slowly toward the door looking at him with mockery, then sat in a velvet chair. It seemed that he intended to watch him in the same room throughout the night.

After several failed escape attempts, the northerners no longer left him alone even for an instant. There was no way out of this situation.

Garis kicked the table violently while panting out of pure rage. The plates and utensils fell to the floor making a great din. The jailer did not even blink, as if he were used to these behaviors.

Garis began to vent his anger by crushing the pieces of broken glass with his feet, then approached the window. He saw the torches of the guards moving slowly over the outer wall.

And upon spotting the formations of the imperial army encamped beyond that, his insides twisted with a pain mixed with rage and fear. If they had come to get him out of here, the negotiations for the ransom would have begun immediately.

However, the army that arrived this afternoon clearly took an attacking position.

«In the end, Varkas has betrayed me.»

He ground his teeth.

«I knew this would happen. Maybe I sensed it from the moment that damn man married Talia… or maybe even before.»

«Ever since that cold guy who cares about nothing, began to show reactions only toward that woman…»

Chapter 230

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