Chapter 24: The Highland Mages

The Highland Mage Corps!

Morin instantly grew excited. The information from his Cheat Code and the original owner’s memories had already told him that magic existed in this world, and the Holy Britannian Empire was highly advanced in both magic and Magitek.

And now, a seemingly impossibly powerful ‘High Mentor’ of the Highland Mage Corps, the Commander of the Royal Army’s 24th Division, a pile of staff officers, and Mage Apprentices had all gathered on this small artillery position.

Morin didn’t know why the 24th Division Commander had suddenly rushed to the forward position and joined the Britannian Highland Mages… but he knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

He lowered his binoculars and handed them to Corporal Bowman beside him, his voice tight with excitement. “Bowman, do you see those officers and the guys in robes?”

Corporal Bowman adjusted the focus, observed for a moment, and nodded: “I see them, sir! They look like important figures. The men in robes greatly resemble the ‘Britannian Mages’ we were taught to identify before we left.”

Morin: “Do you think you can take them out from this distance?”

Corporal Bowman froze. He hadn’t expected his Platoon Leader to have such a huge appetite.

He raised the binoculars again, carefully estimated the distance, wet his finger to gauge the general wind direction, and shook his head with some difficulty. “Sir, it’s too far… about four hundred meters. Although our rifles are accurate, without scopes and relying only on iron sights, the chance of a precise hit on a specific target at this range is low—maybe thirty percent at best.”

Morin was not easily dissuaded. At his beckoning, the other soldiers gathered around. They were all hand-picked as the platoon’s best shots, but after observing, they unanimously stated that the distance was beyond their typical training range. Hitting a man would be lucky, let alone sniping a specific target.

The heat of the impulse raging in Morin’s heart was thoroughly doused by this cold water. He forced himself to calm down. Corporal Bowman and the others were right: the distance was too great, and the risk of exposure if they missed was too high. Furthermore, in Morin’s understanding, ‘Mages,’ as special units, likely possessed some strange forms of personal protection. If they failed to kill the target with the first shot and instead gave away their position, the six of them would likely be annihilated right there.

Impulse is the devil.

Morin sighed, reluctantly abandoning the tempting idea. He raised the binoculars one last time, intending to take one final look at this ‘big fish.’

However, just as he aimed the lens at the robed figure who seemed to be in charge, the alarm bells in his mind screamed. He saw the robed man suddenly turn his head as if he had sensed something, his gaze shooting directly toward their hill. Even across four hundred meters, Morin felt as if he had been locked onto by a beast, and the hair on his body stood on end.

“Retreat! Retreat now!”

Morin scrambled and slid down the slope, not caring how undignified he looked, grabbed his bicycle, and signaled the others to leave.

Bowman and the others, though confused, immediately sprung into action upon seeing Morin’s horrified expression. The six men quickly mounted their bikes and sped away without looking back.

Meanwhile, on the plateau outside Seville.

Eldridge, the High Mentor of the Holy Britannian Highland Mage Corps, frowned slightly, looking toward the unremarkable small hill in the distance. Moments ago, he had vaguely felt a sense of being spied upon. The gaze carried a trace of fleeting killing intent, which his keen spiritual energy had instantly caught.

Was it a National Army scout? Or were they Saxons? He was considering casting a Third-Circle [Eagle Eye] spell to scout the area.

Just then, a Royal Army messenger officer ran up quickly, leaned in, and whispered a report to General José Sanjurjo, the 24th Division Commander.

General Sanjurjo’s face darkened visibly, his brows furrowed with anger.

“Is it that Juan causing trouble again?” a voice tinged with contempt and impatience sounded from the side—it was High Mentor Eldridge. He didn’t even need to listen specifically; the messenger’s low whisper was perfectly clear to him.

General Sanjurjo’s face flashed with embarrassment. That idiot Juan had certainly caused him a lot of trouble, but he had previously turned a blind eye for the sake of the large amount of money the man offered him annually. But what time was this? A major battle was imminent, and the rebels, the so-called International Brigades, and the Saxon main force could besiege the city at any moment, and this idiot was creating such a scandal in the city!

“There was a small disturbance in the city,” General Sanjurjo explained to Eldridge, forcefully suppressing his anger. “I will immediately send men to arrest that good-for-nothing and ensure he is severely disciplined.”

With that, he ordered his guards to take a squad of Royal Army soldiers to ‘invite’ Lieutenant Colonel Juan de Rivera and his companions back.

A short time later, several officers and a squad of Royal Army soldiers arrived menacingly outside the two-story building where Juan and his men had been. They kicked open the front door and rushed inside violently. The leading Captain officer cursed as he charged up the stairs. He just wanted to drag that parasite Juan out quickly so he could report back to the General.

But as he placed his foot on the third step, he felt something lightly trip him up. Immediately after, a round, black sphere rolled out from the gap in the steps and landed at his feet, accompanied by a faint “hissing” sound.

The stairwell was dimly lit, and the Captain didn’t clearly see what was at his feet. He even lowered his head, ready to bend over and pick it up. The Grim Reaper’s scythe hung over his head, pausing for a full 3.5 seconds.

“Boom!”

After the 3.5-second delay, a Saxon Empire ball-type grenade detonated thunderously in the narrow stairwell. The blast wave and flying shrapnel instantly engulfed the stair entrance. The leading Captain and the two soldiers right behind him collapsed into a pool of blood without a sound. The soldiers behind them were completely disoriented by the huge explosion, their ears ringing. When they finally managed to crawl up from the floor, they looked at their screaming comrades lying on the ground and immediately fled, scrambling out of the building that seemed to devour men.

In the street, the massive explosion caused panic. The already frustrated residents nearby scattered, screaming, while the surrounding Royal Army soldiers nervously raised their rifles and surrounded the small building.

Immediately after, a Mage Apprentice of the Highland Mage Corps, who had rushed over after hearing the news, arrived at the scene with his attendants.

“Move aside!” He pushed past the blocking soldiers and looked through the open doorway at the carnage on the stairs, his brow deeply furrowed. After a moment of hesitation, he used a specific hand gesture paired with a short incantation, and a pale blue glow spread out, centered on him.

[First-Circle Spell – Life Sense]

When the spell’s effect concluded, he lowered his hand and said to the nervous soldiers around him: “There are no life signs on the second floor. There are a few on the first floor, but they are in very bad condition.”

Hearing this, a few bolder soldiers finally found the courage to rush into the building and drag out the wounded who were still moaning. The young Mage Apprentice also led his attendants inside, stepping over the bloodstains.

Looking at the gruesome deaths of the three Royal Army men, a flicker of disgust crossed the Mage Apprentice’s face. He ordered the soldiers to clear out the corpses and debris, then he and his party proceeded up to the second floor.

In the second-floor corridor, three closed doors were like three silent mouths.

(End of Chapter 24)