The Runic Alchemist

Damian merely squinted his eyes at the almighty third-ranker commander and stood with the maid on the side. Why did it feel like she truly enjoyed making him miserable?

After an hour, he became so irritated and bored listening them that he decided to say something really stupid during one of the brief pauses in their arguments just to annoy them. Knowing full well that it was the dumbest thing to do.

"Why don't you just block the entrance to the Wraith's Passage and spread out equally at the foot of the mountain range?"

"Huh?" said one of them as everyone looked at him with blank faces.

Damian enjoyed the various comical expressions he received on most of their faces. He had just randomly said the first thing that came to his mind. What did he knew about warfare.. The lessons he had learned with Lucian about the battlefield and strategies were a fog in his mind by now.

He expected to be bombarded with insults, or just another punch from that gorilla like angry queen's guard but instead, not a single person spoke, except Aramis, who glared at him with anger in his eyes as if his very existence was an insult to him, which maybe it was. Finally, someone spoke up.

"It's tens of kilometers long, boy," said Lord Tristan.

Damian couldn't believe the man took him seriously, well, anything was possible these days. The suggestion wasn't groundless though; if he had enough mana like the third-rankers and enough time, he could achieve it, even though his spell collection was nothing compared to what Lady Vidalia, with her century of experience, might have. So he looked at her and gestured slightly upwards with his head.

"She can do it," he said.

The eyes of everyone shifted from him to their commander as Damian received a sharp stomp on his foot from his instructor maid.

"And why do you think I can do it?" she asked in her melodious voice, likely trying to probe what Damian knew about her.

"I could, if I had mana like yours. A hundred years would only make the process more refined," Damian answered, figuring he couldn't get into more trouble. He was already receiving lashes and had his mana sealed. Maybe they would be impressed and reward him?

"I request that his lashes be increased to fifty for speaking disrespectfully to a room full of nobles and Lady Vidalia. He needs to be disciplined," requested the female queen's guard, who seemed eager for his blood from day one.

No rewards for him, then.

"That is the stupidest thing I've heard all week. Still, it sounds better than waiting for them to come sooner or later from the Passage," said the old veteran knight with a laugh that slightly relaxed the mood in the room.

"Ten more lashes for speaking when you are not spoken to. Learn what being a cupbearer means, boy, or you will die in the square," Lady Vidalia said in her strict royal voice.

"We can prepare traps on their path," suggested Lord Tristan.

"They even know which one of us is going to each checkpoint before we get there. Traps are a waste of resources with their advanced scouting," Lord Aramis countered.

"My Lady, it's an insane suggestion, but if we use all our mages in the camp, perhaps..." The foreigner second-ranker supported the idea.

"They can't do anything even if they see us preparing," the female veteran joined in.

"It will block our only way to Ashenvale with our army," the commander raised a valid point.

"They won't be able to cross either without using their new Waygates, which, as we've discussed, seem limited. We would just have to defend against that. The numbers won't be an issue any longer with our army spread as the boy suggested," Lord Tristan also supported the idea.

Were they really considering it? Well, to be honest, it didn't seem like a bad plan at all. Was his subconscious mind secretly a genius? He had said it mostly to annoy the commander, who seemed to harbor too many secrets. It wasn't a major reveal of her strength but more of her capacity as to just how dangerous he could be.

If his guess was correct, no one here knew the full extent of a third-ranker's power when they truly went all out. These Threadripper and Moondancer, weird names by the way, also seemed to be holding back for some reason. What was going on with these people? Were they truly at war or just playing around?

"It is not feasible. It would leave me too weak to defend the camp if they chose to attack at that time. If Bonecrusher was here, maybe we could have given it a try," Lady Vidalia finally relented, glaring at Damian with annoyance. He immediately looked away and found one of the empty cups among them, continuing his job diligently, staying far away from her.

"So, waiting for another attack it is?" concluded one of the veteran knights, ending their seemingly pointless meeting that was going nowhere.

"Rest for today. You've done well. We will think of something tomorrow morning with better rested minds," the commander, also exhausted from the meeting and the battle before, stood up. Everyone followed suit, bowing once to her before leaving the room one by one.

For some reason, Lord Tristan stayed behind and looked at Damian with a look that suggested nothing good. Approaching him, he touched Damian's head, forcing him to look up at his intense face.

"You are not a good spy, are you?" he said, disappointed. On which side was this guy..?

"I wouldn't be walking around this camp with cuffs on my hands if I was," Damian replied, stepping back to escape the man's reach and walking away to the maid standing a bit further from him. Lord Tristan looked at him with his same amusing smile for a while as if finding something in his eyes then he turned around and walked away.

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com