The night was as thick as ink. The last remaining torch in the courtyard, its oil nearly spent, cast a dim light, throwing distorted, flickering shadows upon the stone house’s glass window.
Murphy sat cross-legged in quiet ditation. The flow of Qi within his body had reached a state of perfect, unimpeded harmony. His mind sank into a profound trance, almost rging with the warm bearskin rug beneath him and the dry air of the room.
Just as the dead of night fell into utter silence, a series of hurried, deliberately muffled footsteps broke the tranquility. They approached from a distance, finally stopping outside the stone house’s door.
It was not an Attendant. The footsteps had the distinct, heavy tread of military boots.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
This was followed by three clear yet restrained knocks. The force was just right—enough to wake a light sleeper, but not so much as to seem brash.
Murphy slowly opened his eyes. His deep gaze held only a darkness as tranquil as an ancient well.
He did not move imdiately. With but a thought, the ceaselessly flowing Qi within him quietly subsided, returning to his Dantian Qi Sea. The profound aura surrounding him vanished along with it.
"Enter." He uttered a single word, his voice steady as it passed through the door.
The person outside had clearly heard the permission.
The heavy oak door was pushed open just a crack, and a man dressed in the Peric Clan’s dark brown, iron-studded leather armor slipped inside sideways. The insignia on his shoulder marked him as a Captain.
He removed his full-face helt with its nose guard, tucked it neatly under his left arm, and only then took a deep breath. He crossed the antechamber and ca to the open archway of the living area.
He stopped just outside the threshold, his body ramrod straight. He made a fist with his right hand and struck it firmly against his left breast in a standard military salute.
The firelight illuminated his face, that of a man in his thirties. His features were etched with deep lines carved by mountain winds and harsh sun. His stubble was unkempt, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and his leather armor was spattered with fresh mud and several scratches. His entire being radiated the exhaustion of a long journey.
"My deepest apologies for disturbing you so late at night, Your Excellency, Governor of lfield." The Captain’s voice was deliberately low, filled with the deference one shows to a superior. "I am Blake, Defense Officer of the Southwest District of Blackstone Fortress. I am here under urgent orders from the Ironspine Duke and the two Bishops to report an ergency military situation and... to request your imdiate assistance."
Murphy rose from the rug. His movents were unhurried, as if he were rely waking from a short rest.
He walked over to a low couch, picked up a dark blue outer robe, and casually draped it over his shoulders without tying it. He then turned to face the late-night visitor.
The warm glow from the charcoal fire fell on his well-defined profile, illuminating a tranquil expression.
"What is it?" Murphy asked.
Captain Blake took a deep breath, as if to suppress the exhaustion and anxiety in his chest. He spoke extrely quickly, but his enunciation was exceptionally clear:
"Your Excellency, about half an hour ago, we received an urgent report from a ssenger dispatched from Ximu Town in the rear. Ximu Town is located about twenty kiloters southwest of the fortress. It’s a key pass-through to several important valley manors and a small iron mine in the lands behind us. The town has about two hundred households, mostly miners, loggers, and their families."
His expression looked exceptionally grim in the firelight:
"The ssenger reported that shortly after nightfall, the sentries on the town’s periter detected unusual activity. At first, they thought it was wild animals or a few stray monsters. But soon after, a large number of Otherworld creatures—mainly swift, small-sized Scorching Beasts and a few juvenile Earth Rock Worms—poured out of the forest near the old mine pit west of town. They launched a direct assault on the town’s outer wooden fences and watchtowers."
"The town’s Defense Team and able-bodied n managed to organize a resistance, but the number of monsters exceeded their expectations, and..."
Captain Blake paused, his voice tinged with suppressed anger and helplessness. "The ssenger, who fought his way out, said he saw more than one dium-sized—that is, normal—Scorching Beast. They even showed signs of simple coordination, attacking the weak points of the fence."
"The town’s defenses are on the verge of collapse. So of the outer houses have already been breached. Casualties are unknown, but the situation is... extrely critical."
He looked up, his gaze sweeping quickly over Murphy’s impassive face, and continued, "Normally, the villages and towns in the rear are the responsibility of the local Garrisons and patrol teams. However, Blackstone Fortress is under imnse pressure on its main front right now. All organized mobile forces are pinned to the primary defensive lines and cannot be redeployed on short notice. The last regular patrol team sent in the direction of Ximu Town was reassigned to the eastern front yesterday to fill a gap."
"Ximu Town’s location isn’t absolutely critical from a strategic standpoint, but if it falls, it not only ans a tragedy for over two hundred households of civilians, but it would also open a breach into the relatively prosperous valleys in the rear. This could trigger a chain reaction of retreats, shake the already strained morale of the populace, and even affect the short-term supply from the iron mine."
Captain Blake’s tone grew heavier, even taking on a pleading note. "The Duke and the Bishops weighed the options and concluded that we must imdiately dispatch an elite force to carry out a rescue, cleanse the area, and stabilize the situation. However, of the few Great Knights in the fortress capable of handling such a mission independently, they are either tied down with critical defensive duties or... not in a condition to travel far."
He didn’t elaborate, but the implication was clear.
Murphy listened in silence, his face devoid of any expression.
He simply waited for the captain to finish, then asked, "The specific route, the latest distribution of the monsters, a diagram of the town’s defenses, and possible gathering points for survivors. Do you have more detailed intelligence?"
Captain Blake had clearly co prepared. He imdiately unfastened a dust-covered leather satchel from his waist. From inside, he took out a map rolled in oilcloth and a few rough sketches, clearly drawn in haste:
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