CH886 · Rewrite
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Chapter 886: Weapons and Arts

Reinforcements. Tangen’s lips twitched as the word bounced around in his skull. Did the man understand what he was saying? Reinforcements that couldn’t cross the pathway would be useless. And if he meant troops capable of pulverizing Hermes outright, striding through the ruins of the Holy City — they would need at least a dozen days of preparation before a single strike could be launched.

Noticing that Nail had no intention of elaborating, Tangen let the matter drop.

One entrance to Cloud Ladder opened on a cliff not far from Coldwind Ridge — a cave barely visible from outside, its mouth swallowed by shadow and stone. When they emerged and could see sky overhead again, they found themselves seemingly suspended in midair. Clouds and fog soaked the road. He understood immediately why the passage carried its name: climbing it felt like ascending to heaven.

For all its dramatic air, the path was reliable in good weather. Tangen had exaggerated its dangers to keep the First Army away from it — what he had not mentioned was that a pair of merchants had quietly reinforced the cave walls and planked over the worst stretches of road, keeping it serviceable for tax evasion. The rumors of impassability were nothing but useful fiction.

Within half a day, Tangen had led Nail and his men along the path three times. Without any mountain checkpoints manned by the Holy City, the route shortened distances considerably; light infantry could move it faster than the main road.

He noticed that Nail kept making notes in a small book — a mix of the common continental script and symbols Tangen had never encountered. It surprised him that a soldier could read and write at all, let alone use notation he couldn’t parse. He had paid a full gold royal simply to learn bookkeeping. The idea that a man willing to shoulder a battlefield career — where no one could promise he wouldn’t be the next to fall — would bother mastering letters seemed almost absurd.

During their conversation, he learned the truth: reading, writing, and map drafting were not considered advanced skills in this army. Every member of the First Army possessed them.

What are they all thinking?!

Tangen was more confused than ever.

By the time they returned to camp it was nearly nightfall, and the place was buzzing. A cluster of soldiers stood gathered around the central bonfire, their voices bright with excitement.

“It seems the reinforcements have arrived.” Nail grinned.

“I believe so.” Uncle Sang smiled. “I wonder which familiar faces we’ll see.”

“Miss Lightning and Miss Maggie must be among them.” The unit leader quickened his pace. “Let’s go look.”

Wh—what… Miss?

The reinforcements they had been waiting for were — women?

Tangen followed at their heels, shouldering into an open gap. He stood on his toes and looked toward the fire.

He nearly went faint.

What in the — these are just children.

Especially the one whose hair nearly reached the ground. Round face, bright sparkling eyes — ten years old at most. The others were only marginally older, all of them slight, their arms and legs thinner than his fist. None of them looked capable of raising a sword.

“This is absurd — wait.” Tangen paused. Something pulled at him.

A second look. Then a third.

They were uncommonly beautiful — not just attractive, but beautiful in a way that became unmistakable once they stood together as a group. A kind of uniformity to their looks that went beyond coincidence.

Witches.

He exhaled slowly. Witches were not the monsters common belief made them out to be. If they had truly been as powerful as demons from hell, they would have destroyed both the church and the world’s kingdoms long before now. A man of commerce who kept his ear to the ground knew well enough that a God’s Punishment Stone let even a knight dispatch several witches without difficulty. Stripped of their powers, they were no stronger than anyone else.

But things became more complicated once another presence entered the calculation.

Tangen’s breath caught in his chest. His eyes fixed on the green-haired woman.

He had seen her once — at the celebration ceremony in the City of Evernight. She was not the most conventionally beautiful among the group, but she drew the eye more completely than anyone at that ceremony had managed. The kind of woman no one forgets: elegant in bearing, sharp in character, her presence its own kind of argument.

Edith Kant. Daughter of the Duke of the City of Evernight. The Pearl of the Northern Region.

Charming in daily life and fearless in battle — it was said her fencing was as stunning as her face. What people feared most, however, was her unpredictable, almost eccentric manner of working. Everyone who had ever underestimated her had paid dearly for it. Ask the residents of Evernight about the Pearl of the Northern Region and they could fill several nights with stories.

That Duke Kant had committed fully to the new king seemed certain — he would never have allowed his beloved daughter to walk into a barracks alone and unguarded otherwise. And from the way the deputy battalion commander treated her, Tangen judged that her title travelled with her wherever she went.

The new king’s army is powerful enough to break the church.

Combine the witches with Edith Kant and a force that had already beaten the church in open battle, and the Kingdom of Dawn was facing something genuinely dangerous.

But it was not only the “reinforcements” that unsettled him.

Beside the bonfire stood an iron frame of strange design — symmetrical, resembling a shoulder pole at first glance, with a basket hung from each end. Each basket held four rows of metal cylinders. They had pointed tails and wide, rounded heads, and he couldn’t immediately name the material.

Something about them made his hands sweat.

He studied them, and slowly the source of his unease crystallized.

All nine cylinders — each standing as tall as a grown man — were nearly identical. From their fat heads to their tapered tails, every one traced the same smooth, continuous curve.

The same curve. Nine times.

He knew metals. Knew how hard it was to shape iron into a smooth surface — the smelting, the hammering, the hours a blacksmith spent simply producing one well-formed piece. Every smith he had ever dealt with had told him so. The idea of producing nine cylinders of identical, flawless curvature was the kind of thing that would get a man laughed out of any smithy in Neverwinter for even suggesting it.

And yet they were not refined art. Their grey color and the casual way they’d been loaded onto that frame said plainly: these were not made to be admired.

They were weapons.

Weapons that happened to hold the clean, precise beauty of art objects — and that contrast, the sheer unexpectedness of it, struck him as no work of craftsmanship ever had.

Tangen swallowed hard. He could not honestly call himself well-informed anymore.

For these people, war had become something else entirely.

Something beyond what his imagination had ever mapped.

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