Phase 2…
Andros brought his hand up, giving the ground a thumbs down, and from the sky, the elite force landed in the middle of what felt like an endless plain of grass. The man closed his eyes, sensing traces of mana from the past. Lightning, dark mana, traces of a demonic touched.
He pressed his palm against the grassy ground, channeling his mana through the land, forcing it to give up impressions. It fought a little but stood no chance. Andros didn’t have time to play games.
The only person he knew that possessed this rare tracking skill was a joke of a noble named Drew Starrigon. And his signature just happened to enter Andros’s mind as the first piece of information the land released.
Almost everyone relevant knew of his obsession with joining the hero’s party and doing whatever it took to be accepted, even if it meant selling his own very soul. He advertised it in a bid to create a superficial alliance with all the other third, fourth, and even fifth sons across numerous noble families. The idiot was as twisted as one could get, typical of the Starrigon family. Duke Starrigon likely felt even more shame of his weaselly third son.
“Drew’s arrogance just saved us months of searching,” Andros said as he stood, his black armor clinging. “We will camp here for now, then continue east. I have to give the hero some credit. No one in their right minds would even consider searching far east to what is essentially a wasteland of forest, grass, and villages. I think there’s only one large town in that direction.”
“Are you referring to Wingston, sir?” one of Andros’s men said.
“That’s what it’s called? Even the name bores me,” Andros replied.
“I’m not sure if this is true, lord, but there’s an interesting rumor surrounding Wingston,” the Black Cross subordinate continued.
“What rumor?”
“It’s about an arranged wedding between a Wingston daughter and someone born in the Astral Empire.”
Andros’s eyes widened. “It sounds like House Wingston is taking a reckless approach in the game of power. But this… It could.”
He froze as the flashes of his family being devoured surfaced again in his memories. Eyes suddenly going bloodshot, Andros inhaled deeply, then exhaled, stuffing the last bit of his emotions into a box in the back of his mind. There, he tossed them into an inferno, allowing a nasty grin to emerge on his face. By allowing such a wedding to happen, he would essentially have a shot at potentially destroying the kingdom. In fact, he hoped the Astral Empire prepared to devour them. He’d volunteer for the force deployed to kill the Lord Ruler, even if he wasn’t strong enough.
“We have no time for silly rumors,” Andros finally said. “We have a job to do. Bring that blasted hero back to the capital and move on with our lives.”
The Black Cross saluted, fists to chests, and shouted, “Acknowledged, sir!”
“Good, now let’s set up camp. I want two of you on the first watch shift now.”
