"Hold my hand tight; don't let the crowd separate us."
Thorne led Sellen through the press, offering a bit of common sense to the foolish teacher who knew nothing but magic. Sellen followed close behind, leaning in toward him.
"Where did you learn all these strange things?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the din.
She spoke right into Thorne's ear. He scratched at an itch, paused for a moment, and pulled the witch into a side alley.
Clang, clang, clang... A squad of Cuckoo Soldiers marched past, constantly scanning their surroundings.
Thorne pressed himself against the alley entrance, silently observing them. Without looking back, he replied, "I've seen many scenes of war and chaos; I once tried to sneak out of a certain place as well."
Oh, the Academy rebellion. Sellen didn't give it much thought. "And then?" she asked.
"Then I was caught, struggled to survive, and turned from an ordinary person who only knew how to run blindly for his life into an executioner. This way."
Thorne didn't like dwelling on the past. He tugged Sellen toward the other side of the alley.
The alley was filthy, reeking of trash and vomit. Occasionally, vagrants would leap out, intent on robbery. But before they could even open their mouths, Thorne would snap their necks and stuff them into nearby trash bins.
Sellen didn't lift a finger, didn't say a word. She simply watched the hand gripping hers, her eyes alight with interest. Not a sorcerer, not a simple swordsman– an efficient killing machine, silently and monotonously crushing all obstacles.
Ten minutes later, they emerged from the alley. Thorne shielded Sellen behind him and peered out to assess the situation.
They were on the northern side of town. A trench cut off the path, with a row of barricades behind it, leaving only a small path in the middle. The crude fortifications wouldn't stop Thorne, but they could maintain order and make the civilians line up to leave. 'Blending into the crowd isn't feasible unless I set the town on fire.'
He dismissed the idea. He couldn't bring himself to use a thousand lives as a shield. Looking left and right, he saw over a hundred Cuckoo Soldiers at work.
They were felling trees and erecting watchtowers, where soldiers with heavy crossbows kept guard. A few knights were scattered among them, issuing orders. 'Including those in the town, there are two hundred soldiers and twelve knights in total. The alert level is very high, and with the open plains outside, there's no way to evade a search.'
Thorne had a rough idea of the situation. That wasn't all; to the west of Laskyar was the Village of the Albinaurics, which held an even larger military camp.
If a battle broke out, going to the Village of the Albinaurics would be impossible, but sneaking out was nearly impossible as well.
He had learned the art of makeup, not head-swapping; this wasn't some fantasy drama.
As soon as the horn sounded, all the enemies would swarm out. A direct breakthrough was also out of the question. Strength didn't represent everything. Just as he could defeat a knight as the weaker party, a common soldier could also kill him and Sellen with a crossbow bolt.
"Hmm? It seems they've started leaving the town," Sellen whispered.
Sure enough, the crowd began to surge forward. Under the soldiers' shouted orders, they formed two lines and crossed the wooden bridge in groups. Inspections, collecting tolls, and even some groping of women—the Cuckoo were still as despicable as ever. Aside from the dozens of men working in the middle, the rest of the soldiers were guarding the perimeter. The soldiers were nothing to fear; the key was those Cuckoo Knights patrolling back and forth on horseback. Any sign of trouble and they would likely charge in to cut people down.
"It's troublesome."
No matter how fast magic is, it has a sigil. With a knight's reaction speed, they can completely evade it. They only need to tie us down, and reinforcements will overwhelm us."
Sellen didn't speak. She considered the possibility of using Comet Azur to level the guard post, but ultimately realized the distance was too great; she would be a target for archers the moment she stepped out.
"So what do we do? Find a way to sneak out?"
"No rush. At the beginning, the prey's alertness is always at its highest. Let them settle in for a while."
Thorne knew that one should not move unless success was certain. Even with pursuers right behind them, he suppressed his anxiety. He led the witch back the way they came, acting as if he didn't see the departing crowd. Since this fell outside her area of expertise, Sellen didn't offer any objections; she just looked again at the hand holding hers and his hurried back. Somehow, even without a single magic book at hand, this witch, whose mind was consumed by the pursuit of the Primeval Current, found herself quite interested.
Night soon fell, and the clamor that had lasted most of the day finally quieted down. Because the Cuckoo's inspections were very thorough, the pace of release was extremely slow, and only a small portion of the refugees had left by late night. Powerful Glintstone Lamps illuminated the area outside the town. Since Laskyar was similar to the Academy Gate Town, its main body was built on the lake, with only one side connected to land, so there was no way to bypass it.
The refugees who refused to pay or work as laborers tried to escape under the cover of night. They were discovered halfway. After a few crossbow volleys, they fled back to town in disgrace, while the Cuckoo Soldiers laughed heartily by their flickering campfires in the distance.
"As expected, the guard is strongest at night."
Thorne lay on the roof, silently watching several warhorses gallop back and forth. Seeing that no one dared to continue, he simply flipped back into the room.
"How is it?" Sellen was standing by the window.
They had found an inn to stay at in the evening, and it was an excellent choice. Climbing onto the roof allowed one to see the southern checkpoint, while the windows faced the lake. These details had been learned from a certain ninja.
"Forget about tonight. There are many knights, and we can't outrun warhorses. Besides, fighting at night is very disadvantageous." Thorne took a sip from a water cup.
In truth, he had a great advantage in night battles; it was just that this teacher of his seemed a bit dense — he didn't want her getting lost while running.
If it was pitch black, how would he find her? Thorne was rubbing his chin, thinking about how to escape, when he saw Sellen hold out her palm to him.
"What?"
"Give me back my magic book. This is too boring."
"Why aren't you sleeping? Tomorrow will be exhausting."
"The middle of the night is when my spirit is at its best."
Thorne was speechless, almost forgetting his teacher's unholy sleep schedule. He brushed his ring and took out a thin volume. Sellen took a look and said, bewildered, "What is this?" It wasn't a magic book at all; judging by the title, it seemed to be a novel.
"The Cuckoo could come to inspect at any time. It's too risky to be seen with a magic book. If it gets lost, you'll just force me to come back and find it. Just make do with this to pass the time."
"Becoming a Sword Saint Starting from Ashina? Who wrote this?"
Thorne pointed his thumb at his own face, revealing a confident smile: "It was I."
"It seems I've given you too much rest time if you still have the energy to work on such nonsensical things." Sellen shook her head in dissatisfaction, but she couldn't stand the boredom.
She leaned against the window and slowly flipped through it by the moonlight. First she raised an eyebrow, then showed a bit of interest, and finally fell silent, pinching her chin. Having pacified this restless teacher, Thorne finally had time to think. He wasn't staying in Laskyar just to slack off; from a tactical perspective, the Cuckoo's high state of alert wouldn't last long. The first surge of energy is strong, the second flags, and the third is exhausted. Besides, the sorcerer's defection had nothing to do with them.
Once they'd collected enough money, they might just disperse on their own.
"The best chance is tomorrow at dawn. If we succeed, we'll head straight to the Village of the Albinaurics to make contact. But if an accident occurs, the Academy will quickly deduce my goal, and we won't be able to go to the Village of the Albinaurics. Do I really have to gamble?"
Thorne looked toward the east. This was a last resort; even if his life was saved, he wouldn't be able to return to Caria. "I hope Ranni's reaction is a bit faster."
Having roughly decided on the path ahead, Thorne glanced at the focused Sellen. She leaned against the window, the moonlight spilling over her as if draping her in a thin veil. The section of her forearm peeking out from her sleeve was as translucent as white jade. Focused, intellectual, serene, and beautiful.
"Teacher, I'm going to sleep for a bit."
"Oh." Sellen didn't even look up.
Thorne shrugged and lay back on the bed. As a combat expert, he knew now was not the time for idle thoughts; he had to seize every second to conserve his energy.
This sleep lasted until midnight, when a sudden clamor woke him up. His eyes snapped open. Thorne flipped out of bed and nimbly climbed onto the roof to look outside the town. Soldiers were pouring out of the tents behind the checkpoint. Then, a knight came galloping on horseback, leading them toward the northwest.
With only the campfires for light, Thorne couldn't see exactly how many people were leaving, but a grin slowly spread across his face. Ranni had indeed received the news and immediately made a gesture of breaking through.
The Cuckoo Knights' primary job was to deal with Caria, not to hunt sorcerers. Naturally, they had to redeploy troops from everywhere.
"Ranni still values me quite a bit." Thorne nodded with some pride.
Hearing a noise behind him, he turned to see Sellen climbing up somewhat clumsily, so he quickly reached out to pull her up.
"Are the Cuckoo retreating?" Sellen asked casually; she had also seen the movement.
"Not quite, but the difficulty of breaking out will be greatly reduced. To be honest, we couldn't possibly fight twelve Cuckoo Knights."
"Oh, then should we make a move?"
Thorne thought for a moment and eventually shook his head: "Tomorrow late at night is still the safest. If we can slip away quietly, let's not disturb anyone else. But Teacher, why the sudden interest?"
"I can't be bothered to care about these things." The witch coughed lightly, putting on a bit of her teacherly dignity. "Give me the rest."
"What?"
"The rest of the manuscript! I just got to the part where the protagonist and Genichiro have their final battle and it ended!"
Sellen swore that the thing she hated most in this life was a cliffhanger, just like Lusat's notes — it was missing the most critical part.
Thorne was a bit taken aback and gave a smug smile: "I thought you weren't interested in this sort of thing."
Sellen coughed lightly and said solemnly, "Disciple, you must understand that the most important thing in exploring the Primeval Current is to maintain a sense of curiosity."
Like hell I'd believe that.
"There's no more. Being ordered around by you every day, I barely managed to find time to write a little."
Thorne took the opportunity to complain, but seeing her face darken, he quickly added: "Of course, once we've settled down, I'll write the rest. I'll definitely let you critique it then, Teacher."
That's more like it.
Sellen was just about to ask him how he planned to write the rest when her eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, narrowed slightly.
She raised her hand toward the north: "Disciple, look."
Thorne subconsciously turned around and saw several flickers of firelight appearing on the tranquil lake, rising and falling with the waves. A fleet?
He froze for a moment, pulled out the telescope he had brought from Caria, and looked closely.
It was indeed a fleet, heading toward an island in the middle of the lake.
As he looked from left to right, the hand holding the telescope suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong?"
Thorne didn't answer.
In the lens was a familiar figure wearing a large hat, his professor's robes fluttering in the wind as he gazed toward the cliffs where the Village of the Albinaurics was located.
"Seluvis has come personally. That bastard has guessed my true identity."
Thorne put down the telescope and replied.
His tone was calm, as if he were talking about a minor matter, but his heart was already in his throat.
Damn my jinxing mouth; an accident really did happen.
That bastard still dares to come?
Sellen immediately revealed a cruel smile and was about to stand up when Thorne pulled her back.
"Seluvis is full of schemes. He knows your strength. Besides, the sorcerers who came out are all elites, and they have knight escorts. In a direct confrontation, we simply can't win."
"Then what do you want to do?"
Thorne's mind raced.
They were now deep in enemy territory, with a strong enemy in front and even stronger pursuers behind. Once exposed, it would be a certain death sentence.
Calm down, calm down. The more dangerous it is, the more I need to stay calm.
He kept telling himself this, looking at the Cuckoo Knights standing ready ahead, then at the pursuers searching the islands one by one behind.
He constantly calculated the time, muttering to himself:
"The people from Raya Lucaria Academy also need to sleep. Counting from early morning, searching three islands will take at least half a day.
"By then, the Cuckoo Knights should have let their guard down. The sorcerers will reach the town at the opportune moment."
As if finding some confidence, Thorne's clenched fist loosened slightly. He patted Sellen's shoulder. "Teacher, let's go back to sleep. We have to travel tomorrow; we need to get into peak condition."
"Are you serious?" Sellen's mouth hung open, her expression one of utter incomprehension. She was too lazy to care about these troublesome matters, but that didn't mean she was an idiot. With the net closing in, he wanted to go back to sleep?
"I'm very serious."
Thorne's face was expressionless, without a hint of joking. "Teacher, are you willing to trust me?"
It's irrational, it's practically nonsense. What's your success rate? Questions swirled in Sellen's mind, but as she looked at the serious man before her, remembered his muttering just now, and recalled the two miracles he had created, she nodded as if possessed. "Fine, I trust you."
Laskyar was located in the southern part of Liurnia. In the past, it was an important base for the Cuckoo Knights' sustainable exploitation. Merchant caravans had to pay their first tax here, then another at the Academy Gate Town, and finally another at the Grand Lift. Thus, there was a famous saying in The Lands Between: "Only a great philanthropist dares to do business." With checkpoints everywhere, The Lands Between was practically shattered into pieces. Due to some minor changes, the Cuckoo Knights' comfortable days were coming to an end, so they wanted to seize this last chance to skin everyone alive. Thus, they had little interest in catching fugitives, but a great interest in using it as an excuse to rake in money.
Since yesterday noon, the harvest had been bountiful. Runes fell into boxes like flowing water and were then loaded into carriages to be sent to the main camp. If someone truly had no money, that wasn't a problem either. The Cuckoo Knights were recently recruiting forced labor for mining. As long as one worked for a year, they could leave Liurnia and receive a decent sum of savings. Doesn't that sound like a great deal? The whole day passed without incident. With runes filling their hands, their combat readiness also slackened.
After all, by this time, the Academy fugitives must have landed somewhere long ago and were probably dead by now. Last night was the most tense, but with nothing happening all night, part of the forces were confidently redeployed to the main camp, and the knights on night watch went to rest. Furthermore, the pursuers from the Academy had already reached the lakeshore. If the targets were truly hiding in Laskyar, and didn't flee last night or leave this morning, were they staying to wait for death? So the remaining knights could no longer stand those smelly peasants.
They sat on their tall warhorses a hundred meters away, holding the reins, chatting while they monitored.
"The Academy really had bad luck this time; I heard dozens were killed or wounded."
They sat on their tall warhorses a hundred meters away, holding...