Aogate felt a pang of dread at the words, fearing the worst. What was stable under Tuosen was now in the hands of a greenhorn.
However, seeing the seriousness in Lord Svein's eyes, he dared not disobey. He quickly acknowledged the order, yet his mind was already wrestling with how to proceed.
Xiao Xun offered Hecaste some words of encouragement before instructing Aogate to escort him away.
Glie was eager to prove himself, wishing he could fly to Xideya immediately. He spurred his horse onward, inadvertently causing his men to strain, their mounts all but collapsing from exhaustion as they struggled to keep pace with their commander.
At this rate, the troops would be easy prey for Karul upon reaching Xideya. The副将 (fùjiàng - vice-general), Autris, rode up alongside Glie, urging, "General, we've ridden all day without rest. The men are truly exhausted. Let us take a brief respite before continuing!"
Glie reined in his horse, asking incredulously, "What? We're to rest after barely traveling two hundred li?"
Autris stopped his horse, swallowing nervously. Glie spoke so casually, as if two hundred li were nothing. Yet, even the horses, with their four legs, were wilting like eggplants, let alone the men on two. He added, "General, if we press on, the men will not be able to endure. How will they have the strength to fight on the battlefield?"
Glie was about to retort when he looked at Autris and saw the paleness of his face. He inwardly mused, *These useless fellows have such poor stamina!*
Yet, Glie was not unreasonable. Reluctantly, he ordered the troops to halt and rest.
Glie dismounted and casually remarked, "Autris! With your physique, how did you manage to climb up here?"
Autris's face flushed with embarrassment. He proudly replied, "Reporting to the General, this subordinate has climbed his way up through military merit, step by step!"
Glie noticed the tone in Autris's voice and realized he had spoken out of turn. He chuckled dryly, "I know that, of course. However, seeing your pale complexion, are you perhaps ill?"
Autris, mollified by Glie's polite tone, felt his irritation subside. He sighed, "To be honest, General, I do have an ailment."
He then held his head high and declared, "But I assure you, my illness will not affect my ability to fight on the battlefield. Please be at ease, General."
Glie sensed a deeper meaning in his words and became curious. "Oh? I have some knowledge of medicine. Tell me about it, perhaps I can help you."
Autris looked at Glie with disbelief. While he doubted Glie's medical skills, since Glie had offered, he decided not to hide it any longer.
"To speak of my ailment, I must start from the beginning."
Glie sat down on a large blue stone, settling in as if prepared to listen to a lengthy tale.
"When His Majesty first ascended the throne, I was appointed City Commandant. A bandit was causing trouble near Mount Migale, so I led troops to quell him. However, shortly after killing the bandit, I fell gravely ill and nearly died. Fortunately, two Paladins aided me, and I managed to survive. Although I recovered from the illness, the root cause remained, and I have been unable to fully eradicate it."
Glie listened, grasping the general idea. "So that's it! I always felt something unclean about you. It's nothing. I'll take a look tonight."
Autris watched Glie with a confident air but felt skeptical. He had consulted numerous renowned physicians, none of whom could cure him. How could this mere foot soldier, who wasn't even a proper doctor, succeed?
As night fell, the tent was occasionally filled with the quiet sound of snoring, punctuated by the crackling of the campfire. The vast military camp was hushed.
The troops, weary from the day's march, had long since fallen into a deep sleep.
In the dead of night, as the darkness deepened, a figure emerged from the shadows – it was Glie.
He walked slowly towards a military tent, not his own, but heading in the direction of Autris's quarters.
As he neared, a chilling aura washed over him.
The further he walked, the colder it became, raising goosebumps on his skin.
His footsteps grew lighter, as if treading on cotton, making no sound. He suppressed his presence entirely, seeming to blend into the very air.
From within the tent, Autris's breathing could be heard, labored and uneven, as if he struggled to draw each breath.
Glie peered through a gap in the tent flap and glimpsed Autris lying in bed in a most peculiar posture, as if something heavy was pressing down on him. He was plastered to the bed, his head twitching from side to side.
The tent flap slowly parted, and Glie's face emerged, his sharp gaze piercing the tent and falling upon Autris as if it had physical substance.
Suddenly, the void seemed to rip open, and a phantom blur of green mist flashed from within the tent.
The phantom was as swift as lightning, but Glie was faster. He transformed into a beam of light, shooting directly into the phantom.
Immediately after, a golden light spread before the phantom. The phantom, seemingly terrified of the golden light, let out a piercing shriek.
Of course, this was merely a perception; in reality, not even Autris was affected.
Following this, under the glow of the golden light, a human form coalesced from the dissipating black mist in the air.
The figure was clearly terrified of the golden light, shielding its eyes with its hand, appearing to be in great pain.
Glie's hand, illuminated by the golden light, grew larger. As the hand was magnified infinitely, it finally engulfed the golden light and trapped the figure within, causing the golden light to dissipate into the darkness.
Freed from the constraint of the golden light, the figure visibly regained its vitality, transforming back into a mass of green mist and struggling fiercely. It was squeezed into various shapes within Glie's grasp, but no matter how it thrashed, it could not escape his palm.
Glie seemed unfazed by the struggling figure in his hand. He glanced at Autris on the bed.
Autris now appeared visibly relieved, his breathing much smoother. Glie smirked, and carrying the mass of green mist, he exited the tent.
Moving into the darkness, the mass of green mist emitted a sound.
"Mercy, mage! Mercy!"
However, this voice only formed within Glie's mind; no one else could hear it.
Glie paid it no heed, striding purposefully forward. Upon entering his own tent, he hurled the green mist to the ground. As it touched the earth, the black mist solidified, taking on a human form.
"A necromancer! How dare you wreak havoc in the mortal realm!"
Glie's sharp eyes fixed on the undead creature, their gaze as potent as a physical force, causing the necromancer to kowtow frantically.
"Mercy, mage! Mercy! I know my error! I know my error!"
Glie sneered, "Speak! Why did you seek to harm my subordinate?"
The necromancer wept, "Mage, I was killed by this villain... by this person, and my resentment remains, preventing me from transcending."
Although Glie was a mage of the light, he had no understanding of supernatural phenomena and asked in surprise, "How can resentment prevent transcendence?" The necromancer, seeing Glie inquire, dared not conceal anything. "My lifespan was not yet over when this wretch killed me through foul means."
He let out a few piercing cries, which, in the dead of night, were quite terrifying.
"Killed through foul means?"
Glie felt no fear of the wailing spirit; instead, his curiosity was piqued. "Tell me, how did you incur his wrath?"
The vengeful spirit's eyes filled with sorrow. "Mage, I used to rob the rich to help the poor near the city of Saint Roman. This angered the administrator, who then sent that person to capture me. In a battlefield duel, life and death are uncertain. If I had died on the battlefield, then so be it. But that person was no match for me and instead lured me to a place with a beautiful woman and killed me through foul means..."
At this point, he wept even more sorrowfully.