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Rising god-Chapter 123: Infiltrate: First border
Chapter 123: Infiltrate: First border
In Darkan, the underground organizations convened another clandestine meeting, and since their eight months of alliance, this was the first sensible plan they had come up with.
The hall for their gathering was the same as the last; however, not all seats were filled. In place of Dawnless and Mistars’ leaders, the Third Executive and another Mistars executive sat. The two organizations had gotten closer, even if it was just purely business.
Maroon, the alliance leader, stood, his cloak shimmering with subtle wards. "After much deliberation, we’ve decided... to hijack the vessel granted to Darkan by the emperor."
Everyone sucked their breath at those words.
"Finally, something worthwhile!" Doombringer bellowed, slamming a fist on the table.
Maroon’s lips curled into a wry smile. "From the recent actions of the dragons, they don’t seem all that interested in their lands anymore."
Murmurs rippled through the hall, heads nodding.
It was true. Darkan had been acting strange ever since their last war, like its vigor from before had faded.
"Anyways, that changes nothing," Maroon continued. "We’ll seize the vessel and lie low in the meantime. We also received important information that the activity on the last front has been hectic lately. There might be another call for their help, which would involve them taking the vessel. We must act before they deploy it."
"Agreed, but how?" Doombringer leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Good question. For this task, we would need the organization best at hiding sneaking." Maroon’s gaze swept the room, landing on the Mistars’ representatives. "We need the best at stealth to infiltrate. Mistars, will you do us this favor?"
The Third Executive froze, his breath catching. ’This... is bad.’
"Fuck," the Mistars executive muttered under his breath. Why, why was it during such a crucial moment, when the majority of their organizations were on a mission?
***
On the outskirts of the Lindell family’s territory, a vast, unclaimed expanse stretched, barren, untouched by settlement.
It was where this group landed. No, a group was too small to call this number; one should say an army. A force of at least thirty thousand, their boots sinking into the soft earth. As soon as they landed, their commander, clad in storm-gray armor, raised a communication device, its surface pulsing with faint runes. "Commander Tret Storm, reporting."
A voice crackled through, sharp and resolute. "Good. Coordinate with the three posts and stick to the plan. We will succeed."
"Yes," Tret replied, his voice firm. "For our lord."
The empire’s fears had come true. The storms had descended on their land.
***
Ralph, Mirta, the First and Second Dawnless Executives, the Mistars executives, Wick, the 49th Sword, and a formidable cadre of their subordinates—numbering five hundred—prepared for their audacious mission: infiltrating the Lunar Dominion, specifically the Flameheart Kingdom.
The plan was reckless and crazy, yet they all agreed to it. New adventures bred opportunities, and none could deny opportunities.
They had waited a month, allowing Dawnless members to master their new dragon’s blood enhancements and Baines’ techniques. At this point, those who didn’t refused the dragon’s blood began developing low self-esteem. They found their comrades getting more in tune with the dragon blood and their strength farther away from them. And unfortunately for them, Wick didn’t have time for them anymore.
The month was also spent amassing resources. Mistars procured recovery potions in bulk, essential for sustaining their stealth abilities. Wick also prepared a large number of pills that could hide presence, formations that could silence sounds, and formations that could evade mana sensors, while the group as a whole drilled relentlessly, memorizing every step of the plan.
When the month elapsed, Ralph stood before them, his eyes blazing with resolve and conflict.
As an assassin, his instincts screamed that he would find a family member in the Flameheart Kingdom, and another part screamed rage; however, revenge could wait, their safety came first. It was for this reason he was here, not Baines.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Five hundred hooded figures nodded, pulling their cloaks tight, and moved as one.
Crossing into the Lunar Dominion with this number was no small feat. Not to mention sneaking in. Even with all their preparations, it wasn’t guaranteed they would succeed.
First, they would have to leave the border in Solaris and pass through the border in the Lunar dominion. And both were manned by walls tethered with several runes and spells that could detect anyone trying to sneak in, with a large castle as the only entrance and exit of each border.
Then how could they sneak in five hundred?
After a week of grueling travel on foot, through dense forests and rocky plains, they reached the Solaris’s border castle. Its towers loomed, rune-etched walls glowing faintly under the moonlight.
"Don’t forget the plan," Ralph said, breathless from the trek. "We move in thirty minutes."
The group waited in silence, chewing the presence-masking pills and activating Wick’s sound-dampening formations, then, when the time elapsed, they moved.
Ten Mistars executives, including Mirta, took the lead as their bodies shrouded in faint mist. The remaining Mistars channeled their power, a collective spell weaving a veil of invisibility over the four hundred and ninety, and their presence vanished, the air rippling slightly.
Before they took ten steps, the mistars began drinking the recovery potions to keep their abilities active.
The ten leaders approached the castle gates, where vessels and ships patrolled the skies, their hulls humming with mana. Soldiers manned the walls, their eyes sharp, while hounds with glowing eyes prowled the grounds. These were the reasons they couldn’t penetrate; the security was just impenetrable, designed to catch any intruder.
As they crossed the gate’s threshold, a wave of mana swept over them, probing for hidden signatures. ’First check,’ Mirta thought, her heart pounding. The wave passed, detecting nothing. She exhaled silently.
Hours dragged as they queued, blending with merchants and travelers. Before reaching the counter, a stronger mana wave pulsed through, more invasive this time, and took a longer time. Every member tensed, holding their breath, potions burning in their veins to sustain the mist.
"Allow," a voice boomed from the gate’s rune array.
Relief flooded, but they held it. After all, it wasn’t over.
A woman at the counter, her uniform adorned with Solaris emblems, eyed them. "May I know your reason for crossing?"
"We have family business to settle," Mirta said, producing forged documents detailing their identities and ties to the Lunar Dominion.
’So detailed,’ The woman over the counter raised an eyebrow, impressed. How would she feel if she heard these were all fake?
She stamped on all ten documents, "Alright, you are expected to be back in two months."
Mirta took them, her breath uneven with tension.
"Wait," a soldier called, his voice sharp.
Her heart sank. Her mind raced, already calculating.
The soldier approached, pointing behind her. "What’s that?"
’Shit, we failed,’ Mirta thought, bracing for combat.
"Is that cloth from Trupo?" the soldier asked, eyes wide with curiosity.
"Uh?" Mirta blinked as all her tension melted like snow. "Yes," she said, forcing a smile. "If you like it, visit them and say it’s on me." She handed him a card, her hands steady despite her racing pulse, and walked away.
They endured one final mana scan before stepping through the teleportation port that took them to the Lunar Dominion’s border office.
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