Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 34

The war between the Four Nation Alliance and the Highserk Empire was reaching its climax. Despite suffering over 10,000 casualties, the Alliance had annihilated two battalions of the Highserk Empire’s army, and all but the horse exit in front of the gates of the defensive enclosures had fallen.

With a general assault on the gates planned for the next day, the captured outlying fort was teeming with a large quantity of supplies and soldiers. Most of the troops had retired to sleep in anticipation of the major offensive, the exceptions being the commanders from various nations participating in prolonged military councils and the soldiers standing guard.

Jackson, a soldier of the Felius army, was unfortunately assigned night watch duty. Even though the Highserk Empire’s army had retreated to the walls, Jackson’s mind was far from at ease. Under the cover of night, there was a risk of enemy spies or scouts infiltrating their position. Jackson had heard that the combined death toll in both armies had exceeded 15,000.

In particular, the battle at the defensive position known as the 3rd rampart by the Highserk’s army, had resulted in the heaviest casualties on both sides during the intense close combat of the Sarajevo Fortress siege. The enclosure, forced open by two of the three heroes from another world of the Crest Kingdom and numerous Magic Soldiers, was riddled with large holes, under which more than 5,000 soldiers lay haphazardly buried.

Despite the efforts of military priests and the scattering of holy water, there had been a continuous outbreak of undead, with ten reports of corpses reanimating just today. Jackson himself had slain an undead Highserk soldier, its eyes gouged out. Due to some fools practicing the dismemberment of limbs and eyes of the undead, the curse of evil spirits or something else had caused a dramatic increase in their emergence.

While Jackson harbored a growing disgust towards the Highserk Empire, he did not consider himself mad enough to kill and mutilate the bodies of defenseless prisoners. Ironically, the area he was guarding was the midpoint of the 3rd rampart and the 6th rampart of the Sarajevo ramparts, which had inflated in size into a massive graveyard.

This location was where undead sightings were most frequent, and along with Jackson, 40 soldiers were mobilized to patrol the area. The light from the magic stone lamps, torches in their hands, and the moonlight were the only sources illuminating Jackson’s vision. Suddenly, a sentry three positions away from where Jackson was stationed raised his voice.

Jackson couldn’t make out what was said. Still, the sight of allied soldiers chatting cheerfully in the graveyard-turned-enclosure seemed insane to him. From a distance, it was clear the person they were addressing didn’t respond. Judging by the equipment, it had to be a soldier of the Highserk Empire. Jackson shifted his gaze left and right as he moved towards his fellow soldiers.

“Another undead, perhaps?” Jackson thought wearily, but duty was duty, and leaving them be would only bring more harm. As he approached, his unease grew. The captured prisoners should have been stripped of their gear, and their eyes and limbs destroyed. However, the figure standing there didn’t fit any of these criteria. Jackson held the magic stone lamp in his shield-bearing hand and rested his other hand on the longsword at his waist.

“Aaah! No, this can’t be. He was supposed to be dead,” a voice rang out, abruptly shifting from arrogance to panic. A nearby soldier, by chance a magic user, had used a ‘Torch’ spell, revealing the figure’s appearance.

Covered in blood, with all fingers on the left hand twisted unnaturally, it looked no different from any other corpse. However, what sent shivers down Jackson’s spine was the emotionless face wearing a mask. The figure was supposed to have died during the 3rd ramparts siege by the Rehazen Knights and was now wearing the infamous red demon mask.

“Is that the ‘Demon Fire’ user, the one they call ‘Hellfire Beacon’?!”

Jackson cried out reflexively. An unidentified Highserk soldier possessing the dreadful skill capable of burning groups of people alive. He vividly remembered the injured soldiers, heavily wounded, repeatedly muttering about this particular soldier’s characteristics. This memory slowed Jackson’s steps, already prepared for battle.

The moment the leading soldier raised his weapon, a blast of hot air instantly dried Jackson’s eyes and lips. The heat seared the inside of his mouth as he inhaled the fire. Yet, Jackson was fortunate. The distance and the backs of other soldiers created a shadow, sparing him from a fatal injury. A nauseating heat and a blue flame that shone in the night instantly formed, engulfing the soldiers in fire. Jackson couldn’t even scream anymore. His legs gave out, and he crawled away, trying to distance himself.

“Damn it, damn it all! I should have let them rest in peace. This is what happens when you tamper with the dead!” Jackson hurled curses at his unknown fallen comrades. He braced himself to become a fiery torch like the unfortunate soldiers before him, dancing in flames within seconds. But his imagination of death remained just that.

The ‘Demon Fire’ accompanied by a hot wind, vanished unbelievably fast into the shadows of the enclosure. Jackson understood. He wasn’t spared; the enemy was heading to a place with more people. The destination was undoubtedly the 6th rampart where unsuspecting soldiers and officers lay asleep, vulnerable to attack. Despite this realization, Jackson’s legs were unbearably heavy, as if cursed, preventing him from warning those around him.