The Necromancer's Servant

Lord Borugan isn't called "Lord" as a title; rather, his full name is Lord Borugan. He seems to have been born for this role. Bracada was once just a small outpost on the border, but under his governance, it developed into a sizable town in just a few years. He went from being a minor official, barely more than a feather on a chicken, to the administrator of a town.

Lord Borugan was feeling quite troubled. He was sitting in a large chair, resting his hands on his big head, lost in thought.

The merchant caravan disguised by the thieves had set out for a month. Lord Borugan had seen them depart himself at the checkpoint, noticing Asa and Elaine among them, dressed as merchants.

It took about twenty days to travel west from Bracada to cross the Wild Highlands and reach the neighboring country, but that was just the narrow southern end of the highlands. To the north, surrounded by the Lizard Marsh and the Saundfest Mountains, lay vast tracts of land. However, there were no resources or ruins worth exploring there—just scattered woods, hills, and wild beasts roaming the desolate terrain. Ever since the Empire's army swept through the orc tribes a few years ago, the area had seen little human presence. If the orcs were indeed building a city-state, it was most likely to be there. Given the time elapsed, they should be nearing their destination by now.

What was the situation like there? Was it truly a rational nation? What attitude would the orcs take toward the Empire, which had long since harassed them? He hoped Asa would return soon. Though it was unlikely, he hoped the news he brought back could change the course of the impending war.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor. It sounded like several people were approaching, as someone was shouting, but only one set of footsteps could be clearly heard. This sound overshadowed all others, exuding an air of dominance. The steps were heavy and resonant, reflecting the size and presence of the person making them.

Lord Borugan sighed; what was bound to come would come, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon.

The door was pushed open, or rather, it was slammed open. The two doors swung wide, hitting the walls with a bang, and a massive figure stepped into the room.

If anyone didn't know how to write the word "mighty," they'd instantly understand it just by looking at this man. He seemed to be the very embodiment of "might." From the tips of his hair down to his heels, every part of him radiated a military presence. His golden hair spilled out from under his helmet, mingling with his equally golden beard. His face bore deep lines and scars, as if war had aged him instead of time. He was a head taller than the average person, with a massive build clad in modified steel armor that only covered vital areas, leaving much of his skin exposed, showcasing muscles marked by scars from countless battles. He carried two double-headed axes at his waist, each of which would be difficult for an ordinary person to lift.

Lord Borugan waved his hand to dismiss the several staff members from the municipal hall who had followed him in. This man had entered without a word; they hadn't even tried to stop him. Lord Borugan stood up and nodded, saying, "How are you, General Sanders."

"I'm not well," General Sanders replied bluntly, fixing his gaze on Lord Borugan. "I rode two thousand miles from the southern border, killing ten fast horses. I'm tired, and I'm not in a good mood, so I'm not well."

"Where are your troops? Do you need to rest a bit first...?"

The general indeed looked exhausted, but even the most fatigued lion retains its ferocity. "I've already told you: I'm not well. That means you shouldn't waste your breath with polite formalities."

Lord Borugan nodded. He had been dealing with the general, who wasn't easy to handle, since he took over the outpost ten years ago. He was familiar with the general's temperament and knew that it was best to comply in situations like this.

"Do you know why I rushed here?"

"No, I don't."

"Because I've heard some strange rumors about the Wild Highlands to the west. I've heard they're building a city-state for the orcs."

"I know."

"Do you know about Captain Sanders of the Knights Templar recruiting mercenaries in your town six months ago?"

"I know."

"Do you know why he was recruiting mercenaries?" The general kept questioning, his voice growing lower with each inquiry.

"I don't know." It seemed that Lord Borugan could only say these few words.

"Then have you heard anything about him and his troops afterward?"

"No."

"Nothing?" The flames of the general's eyebrows knitted together in fury, his voice resembling a low growl from a beast. "Do you know what that troop was sent for?"

"I don't know."

"That was the commander of the Knights Templar and I who secretly commissioned him to scout the orc movements in the western wilderness. But for six months, I've received no word from them, and now I hear that the orcs have established a city-state in the highlands." The general's voice sounded like a lion roaring. "In the last letter I received, it merely stated that you refused to lend your soldiers to him, forcing him to recruit mercenaries here. And a troop like that disappeared around your town, and you know nothing about it." The general glared at Lord Borugan, asking word by word, "Explain to me how this happened."

Lord Borugan took a deep breath and slowly, methodically explained, "Officer Sanders didn't tell me he was on a mission; he just asked to borrow the town's guard, but he didn't have the proper documents, so I couldn't hand over the troops to him. He gathered the soldiers he brought along with the recruited mercenaries, and they ventured deep into the Wild Highlands. It's quite far from us, so we had no contact. I assumed they returned to the Empire from elsewhere, so I didn't pay much attention. As for the orc city-state, I only heard about it recently."

The general stared at Lord Borugan in silence for a moment and then asked, "Is it just because he didn't have the documents that you refused to give him troops? You should know that the commander of the Knights Templar outranks you significantly, and what could be more important than a military mission concerning national security?"

Lord Borugan replied, "Regardless of what task he claimed to be undertaking, without the proper paperwork, it's merely a personal request. I cannot casually hand over troops to someone based on their rank. I must maintain local security; I am the local officer of this town."

With a bang, the axe that had been hanging at the general's waist came crashing down on the desk. The sturdy wooden desk shattered entirely. "What's your rank, anyway?" The general's voice seemed poised to shatter the small man before him. "Without soldiers like us fighting on the front lines, what place do you have to play with power in the back? Thanks to us soldiers, the people at the border are not suffering from the orc incursions, and trade routes to the west can proceed smoothly. Do you know that your wealth and power come at the cost of our lives? But it's precisely because of obstructive officials like you, only concerned with power, that I was stuck in that damned south, unable to come here. He had no choice but to recruit mercenaries for reconnaissance, and now, after half a year, there's been no news. The orcs have established a city-state right next to our Empire…"

The axe landed squarely in the center of the desk, but the entire table collapsed as if it were merely a decorative piece made of flour. Lord Borugan stared at the axe resting just before his nose. If it had been just an inch closer, he would have become one with the splinters on the floor. Sweat trickled down his chin.

The general fixed his gaze on him, anger and grief swirling in his eyes before finally settling deep within. He slowly withdrew his hand and hung the axe back at his waist. He pulled out a document from his cloak and threw it in Lord Borugan's face. "This is the document you wanted. The Empire is now entering a state of war, and I'm in full command of all matters at the front. Trade to the west is immediately halted. Bracada is to be used as a military stronghold. You are no longer the official of this town."

"There's already a representative from Duke Murak sent to that city-state to gather information. If we wait for their report, perhaps we won't have to go to war…" Lord Borugan said.

"I never repeat my orders." The corners of the general's eyes twitched, indicating that his patience had reached its limit. "I'll tell you one last time: I'm in a bad mood. Get out."

Lord Borugan didn't say a word, silently picking up the scattered documents from the floor. He turned to the door and paused, saying softly, "I sincerely apologize and regret the situation regarding your son, but I had to do it; it's my duty."

The general remained standing in the center of the room like a stone statue, unmoving. As Lord Borugan's footsteps grew fainter in the corridor, his voice could be heard calling for other staff from the municipal hall.

The general slowly walked to a chair and sat down, burying his face in his hands. The long journey and emotional turmoil made him feel as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Everything started two years ago when the current emperor ascended the throne and replaced the prime minister. After the new emperor took the throne, a decree arrived stating that the west had been pacified, and there was no need to station large armies there. Meanwhile, several southern nations were stirring, and orders were given to move all the troops south. Since this region was not adjacent to any other countries, there was no need to keep any forces here, just local guards would suffice.

When he received this order, he knew it was the intention of the new prime minister. Many members of his family had long coveted the trade routes leading to the western countries. He had never liked these people and often conducted strict inspections on their caravans; of course, they wouldn't allow him to continue guarding the area. However, it didn't matter; he had never been particularly interested in politics, so since the decree stated that the troops were to be relocated south, he would comply.

Half a year ago, his son, a team lead in the Knights Templar brought a secret letter from Captain Roland, saying that it seemed there were orcs active in the savage highlands along the western border, and he was asked to investigate.

However, due to the deteriorating relations with the southern nations, which could erupt into war at any time, the court had ordered that no troops could be moved. He had written to the court several times requesting additional funds to redistribute troops to guard the west, but there was no response, which indicated that someone was scheming against him, leaving him deeply resentful of those politicians. Yet, regardless of how angry he was, he was a soldier, and without orders, he could not make any moves.

The Knights Templar was the empire's elite force and could only be deployed with simultaneous approval from both the emperor and the church. Thus, Captain Roland could only secretly send someone to scout the area, but either the scouts vanished without a trace or failed to gather any results. After all, the savage highlands were vast and perilous, requiring a considerable number of troops to conduct thorough reconnaissance. Those politicians in the court, led by the Ernie family, had been trying to meddle in military affairs and were actively working against him and military leaders like Roland. The information about the orcs was something Roland had learned through unofficial channels, with no evidence. If they carelessly moved troops and made a fuss, it would be easy for those people to catch them off guard.

Although he didn't believe that the orcs he had nearly eradicated could pose any threat, he also knew that Roland was not the type to make a fuss over nothing. So, he quietly withdrew some soldiers from his own troops and sent them with his son to the west to gather local forces for the reconnaissance. However, this resulted in them disappearing without a trace, and after six months, there was still no news. Burdened with the responsibility of guarding the frontier, he naturally could not leave his post, and no matter how hard he tried to inquire, he got no results. It wasn't until Roland finally obtained concrete evidence to report to the court that a decree arrived stating that the orcs in the western highlands had established a city-state, ordering him to immediately send troops westward.

When he received this news, he knew that his son had already died at the hands of the orcs. He was his youngest and only remaining son.

No matter the cost, all the orcs had to be exterminated.

This had been the vow he made more than twenty years ago, at which time he had silently asked the divine to witness this oath. This time, he made no requests; he felt that even having the devil as an assistant would be acceptable.

The news of war suddenly enveloped the residents of Bracada like a summer storm.

However, people quickly adapted from their shock and disbelief, and began to pack their belongings and leave the place. Their brief stay of a few years was not enough to foster any deep attachment. In just three days, the once-thriving scene had vanished from the city.

Lord Borugan stood at the street corner, numbly watching the last group of residents leave with their bundles. Everywhere, tavern doors stood wide open, leaving only some empty tables, chairs, and trash behind, while the windows of upstairs rooms swayed in the wind, occasionally making clattering sounds as they collided.

The first wave of troops had already arrived, with the gleam of swords, spears, and armor shining everywhere. The fatigue from their forced march did little to conceal the ferocity of these troops.

"Is there going to be a battle?" a robed figure emerged from a corner of several houses and approached Lord Borugan, watching the scene in the street. "I just arrived here a few days ago, and now I see that there's going to be a battle."

"Yes, it seems so," Lord Borugan replied casually.

"So many people," the figure remarked, gazing at the soldiers around. Although Lord Borugan's voice was already quite unpleasant, compared to this person's, he could almost be a great vocalist. "If a real battle breaks out, this town will be leveled, right?"

"Yes," Lord Borugan glanced at the man. This person seemed to be a homeless man suffering from some illness, wrapped entirely in a robe with only the upper half of his face visible.

"I wonder when this battle will start and when these people will depart?" The man shook his lifeless eyes as he surveyed the soldiers passing by in the street.

"Probably tomorrow," Lord Borugan thought. As long as the general gets some rest, he will likely send the men out to scout.

The homeless man responded with an "oh." "So soon? I need to leave quickly, then."

"Yes, let's go." Lord Borugan turned and walked away. He still needed to go to the city hall to detail the surrounding terrain and the distribution of buildings in the town to the officers, indicating where would be suitable for storing food, where to station troops, and where to set up alerts. This was his final task as a local official.

Looking at the empty taverns around him, he let out a bitter laugh. Every building here had been personally planned by him, and he had watched as each brick was laid. When he had proposed combining the city's brothels, inns, and taverns, he had felt a certain admiration for his own idea. As he walked, he kicked a small stone, which flew out and hit a door panel by the roadside, producing a dull thud.