Chapter 530: The Hunter’s Mind ( 530 )
Halfling War Camp – Makeshift War Room, Dwarven Frontline
The tent flaps burst open.
“General!!!”
A young halfling scout stumbled inside, dirt-covered and breathless, sweat clinging to his forehead.
The Halfling General turned sharply from the war map. “What is it!?”
“Gilikan Town! It’s been conquered—by an unknown force!”
The general’s expression hardened.
“Unknown!? What force!?”
The scout trembled slightly, still catching his breath.
“The flag flying over the town… it’s black, with a golden emblem!”
The room fell silent.
No one spoke.
The general narrowed his eyes.
“…Black with gold…? That’s not Human. Not Dwarf. Not even Halfling.”
“What about our garrison there!?” he barked.
The scout shook his head.
“We don’t know, General! No communication. And we couldn’t get close!”
The general slamd his fist on the table.
“Why the hell not!?”
“The town is heavily guarded! Soldiers patrolling the periter. Full formations. We tried scouting from a distance.”
He hesitated.
“…General… they were all wearing mithril armor. And wielding mithril weapons.”
The war room exploded.
“WHAT!?!”
Mithril—rarest of rare. Impossible to field for standard troops. Not even the Human Kingdom distributed it widely.
The general stepped forward, his voice rising.
“Are you sure!?”
“Yes, General! I saw it myself! Even their shields had engraving work! Not common steel, not painted to look shiny, true mithril!”
“How many!?”
The scout swallowed.
“A-Approximately five thousand, General!”
The tent fell completely still.
“…All 5,000 wearing mithril…?” the general whispered.
The scout nodded quickly.
“Y-Yes, General!!”
Silence.
Then—
“Shit… shit!!” The general gritted his teeth, pacing in circles.
“Only one place would ever equip an army with mithril…”
Everyone in the room was already thinking it.
“Armand…”
But the scout raised a hand suddenly.
“No, General!”
The general froze.
“…What did you say?”
The scout’s voice trembled now.
“It’s not Armand. The emblem… It’s not the official crest.”
He slamd both fists on the table.
“Damn it! How did a force like that get into Gilikan without us knowing!?”
The officers around him stayed silent.
No one had an answer.
The scout kept his head low.
“We don’t know, General. Their emblem… it’s not listed in any of our records. And it’s not the Human Kingdom.”
The general muttered under his breath.
“Who the hell… has 5,000 elite soldiers in mithril… but doesn’t wave any known kingdom’s flag?”
The Halfling General’s voice bood through the war tent.
“Call the captain!! And prepare my war mount!”
One of the aides saluted imdiately.
“Yes, General!!”
The general turned back toward the map, eyes locked on the Dwarven front.
“From now on—the captain is in charge. He’ll continue the offensive. We keep pushing toward the last three dwarven strongholds.”
“Yes, General!”
Another officer raised his voice.
“What about Gilikan Town?”
The general narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll speak with the king directly. We don’t move on that town until I get orders.”
He turned sharply, armor clinking as he strode toward the exit.
“Until then… treat it like a cursed zone. No one goes near it without permission.”
“Understood!!”
Within monts, the camp stirred into motion. Scouts ran. ssengers rode. The general’s personal guard rushed to prepare his armored war beast.
And in the back of his mind, the question lingered—
Who… exactly is in that town?
The general’s expression turned grim.
No ti to question.
If the one who took Gilikan shares the sa target…
He had to move.
Now.
“Ready my escort! Full heavy mount unit! We ride imdiately!”
The camp roared to life.
Steel clashed, hooves thundered, and armored halflings scrambled to formation.
Within minutes, the general mounted his beast—an armored war rhino bred for battlefield dominance.
“Open the path!”
“Yes, General!”
He kicked forward, and the entire unit charged through the outer gate of the war camp.
The dirt flew behind them as they tore through dwarven territory—straight toward the Halfling Kingdom’s capital.
anwhile, in Gilikan Town.
The third day had begun.
Smoke drifted gently from makeshift chimneys.
The sound of hamrs striking wood echoed through the early air.
The dwarves, once broken and starved had begun to move.
Rebuild.
Work.
Slowly, step by step…
The town was coming back to life.
Near the town square, the dwarf boy who once cried in silence now followed his mother, holding a small bucket of clean water in both hands.
His eyes still looked carefully at everything.
Still watched every movent of the soldiers.
But he no longer cried.
And the people around him, were moving with purpose.
They still feared him.
The noble lord who now ruled the town.
They spoke his na in whispers.
But they had seen sothing in these past days.
He didn’t kill for fun.
He didn’t beat them.
He didn’t mock their pain.
He gave orders. Cold and direct.
But food was given.
Wounds were healed.
The streets were protected.
The halfling soldiers had laughed while torturing them.
This one… just watched from his chair.
Near the town center.
Chief Nofan stood tall, dirt on his sleeves, sweat on his brow, but his voice firm.
He pointed as he spoke to his people.
“That fra..no, align it with the support beam! Check the nails! Use the thick cut planks from the west pile!”
The dwarves moved quickly under his direction.
So built walls. Others prepared roofing.
Children gathered stones for the fire pits.
They still glanced toward the tall figure seated in the center of town…
But now, they worked without hesitation.
Then—Nofan noticed movent behind him.
He turned, straightened, and marched toward the central platform where the noble lord sat.
He clenched his fist and brought it to his chest in salute.
“My lord!”
Javier sat atop his throne-like chair near the center of town, arms crossed as he watched the movent around him.
Chief Nofan stood tall, waiting for his next order.
“Continue the work.”
“As you command, my lord!”
Javier’s voice stayed even.
“And make sure they have enough rest.”
Nofan blinked once—then bowed his head deeply.
“Thank you, my lord!”
He turned and ran back toward the worksite, shouting new instructions, voice louder now—more confident.
Javier didn’t watch him for long.
His gaze shifted downward—
to the small war map now projected in front of him by a flat mana disk, hovering faintly above his lap.
I can’t afford to wait too long.
If I wait, I’ll fail the mission.
But if I leave now… this town will collapse the mont I’m gone.
He tapped the map once, zooming into the far eastern side.
Maybe I should slow them down.
Both the Human and Halfling armies…
Just enough to buy ti.
He opened a side tab on the map.
A new window flickered up.
My drones already scouted from above. These three dwarven strongholds are still holding.
Barely.
Then his eyes narrowed at the opposite edge.
The Human Kingdom’s forces.
They’ve got air superiority… sowhere between two to five hundred wyverns. Mages. Magic bow units.
If I launch my newly built drones…
He let out a breath through his nose.
I could cripple their frontlines. Disrupt the timing. Force both kingdoms to slow down.
But it won’t be fun.
He leaned back slightly, tilting his head toward the sky.
“…Where’s the thrill in fighting like that?”
( End Of Chapter )
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