Gunmage-Chapter 40: Are you a spy?!

"I was originally going to ask you to kill yourself."

The words dropped like a guillotine. The room froze. The air, thick with candle smoke and sweat, grew colder.

"But now I'm not sure what I should do."

Silence.

Lovainne's fingers twitched, his breath shallow. His patience had worn thin, but even he wasn't reckless enough to react just yet.

His gaze snapped back to Xhi. The sorceress sat with her hands clasped lightly in front of her, her expression one of mild amusement.

"What do you mean by that?"

He asked, his voice measured.

Xhi tilted her head, her delicate fingers pressing together in thought.

"Ah"

She exhaled softly, eyes flicking toward him with something unreadable behind them.

"Is that going to be your second question?"

Lovainne clenched his jaw but forced himself to stay composed. He had already set his conditions before agreeing to anything. His anger was useless here.

"No."

His gaze shifted to Lugh and Lyra, standing quietly behind him.

"I thought humans couldn't use magic?"

His voice was sharp now, as if daring her to lie.

Xhi pondered for a moment, her long lashes casting shadows over her face.

"They can't."

Then, she fell silent.

He exhaled through his nose.

"What the hell does that mean?"

The sorceress gave him a slow smile and clapped her hands together lightly.

"Ah. I'm sorry, but you're fresh out of questions."

A muscle twitched in Lovainne's cheek. He pushed back his chair, rising to his feet and pacing the room, his boots pressing into the aged wooden floorboards. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath, but his expression remained eerily composed.

He was furious, but his anger was a controlled burn, tightly leashed, simmering beneath the surface.

Lugh, watching, could only think back to his first day in the temple.

"Where am I?"

He had asked.

"You're inside its stomach"

Xhi had answered.

His next question had come after a long pause.

"How do I escape?"

She had tilted her head then, her gaze sharp as glass. Four words escaped her lips.

"There is no escape."

He had lost all hope that day. And yet, here he was. Alive. Outside. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

A sudden knock broke the quiet.

Vaelith moved first, quickly wrapping a scarf around her ears before the others straightened their postures.

"Come in"

Lovainne ordered, his voice turning razor-sharp.

The door creaked open, and three men stepped through, their presence heavy. Hardened faces. Scarred hands. The kind of men who had seen too much blood to fear death anymore. Soldiers who had walked through fire and returned with little more than their lives.

They saluted.

"Major General."

"Have a seat"

Lovainne said. His tone had shifted. It was colder now, stripped of all warmth. A blade dulled by war and sharpened by necessity.

Lugh observed their insignias as they moved. Two brigadier generals. The third bore a symbol he didn't recognize.

"Admiral"

Lovainne greeted.

"General" the man returned, his voice grave.

The council had begun.

Lugh and Lyra moved in unison, standing behind Lovainne as silent shadows. Vaelith did the same, her expression unreadable beneath her disguise.

But Xhi remained seated, unmoved.

Her blinding beauty was a problem. Graceful and ethereal. It was not human. The officers faltered, their eyes lingering on her, trapped in something between fascination and unease.

"Ignore her"

Lovainne snapped before any of them could speak. He was simply grateful there were enough chairs, he did not want to test what would happen otherwise.

The admiral's gaze shifted instead.

"And them?"

His voice was steady, but there was caution in it. He was looking at Lugh now, at his pale skin and unnatural stillness.

Lovainne's answer was immediate.

"You can say anything you want in front of them. They're my personal guards. They just returned from an espionage assignment."

The officers straightened, their interest piqued.

"So—"

One of the brigadier generals leaned forward

"—did we get any new intel?"

Lovainne exhaled through his nose.

"Nothing we don't already know."

A palpable disappointment settled over the table.

The admiral folded his arms.

"General, our supplies will only last another two months. We need a course of action."

"What are your suggestions?"

Lovainne asked.

"We could head east into Heieg's homeland territory, or we could march south past the Roch River and attempt to retake the old capital city—

The man paused, as if pondering something.

"—with the help of General Garrick and the 7th Armored Division."

Lovainne's fingers tapped once against the wooden table.

"Heieg has been amassing troops in the old capital for months,"

He said.

"We have fewer than four thousand men, mostly infantry. Neither we nor the 7th Division have artillery. Bombardment isn't an option.

The Prince observed their expression before continuing

"The Roch River has no tributaries in this entire region, meaning we'd have to abandon our combat vessels. Frankly, invading Heieg's homeland is the only reasonable choice."

Silence.

"However"

He continued,

"That is exactly why we are going to the capital city."

The words sent a ripple of shock through the room.

"You—you plan to move south?!"

"Yes."

"You don't have the manpower."

"The terrain doesn't favor us. We'll be slaughtered."

Lovainne barely reacted.

"The enemy won't expect us to move south. That means we have the element of surprise."

His voice was level, almost conversational.

"Our only problem is keeping it a surprise."

The officers stared, expressions wavering between disbelief and anger.

"You can't be serious."

"Surprise or not, that's a death march."

Lovainne sighed.

"Don't worry, I have a plan. We just have to get rid of the spies in our ranks first."

"Easier said than done" a brigadier general muttered.

Lovainne's gaze sharpened.

"Then we kill anyone suspicious."

That was when the room broke.

"Are you insane?!"

"Morale will collapse."

"This isn't the way—"

Visit freewёbnoνel.com for the best novel reading experience.

"Then what do you suggest?"

Lovainne asked, and for the first time, his voice was quiet. Dangerous.

No one answered.

Lugh stepped forward and whispered something into his ear.

Without a change in expression, Lovainne gave a command.

"Tell every officer still alive to gather in the town square. No exceptions. One hour."

Confused murmurs broke out, but orders were orders.

The camp roared to life. Soldiers stirred, officers scrambled and in less than an hour, the town square was filled with bodies.

Lovainne stepped onto a platform, his red uniform stark against the dimming sky. At his side, a single figure stood motionless.

Lugh.

A beautiful, unsettling specter of a boy. His left eye was ordinary. His right eye, black sclera and red pupil, was not.

The murmuring spread.

Lovainne raised his hand.

"Silence."

It fell quiet.

"You are here for one reason"

He said.

"I am going to ask a question that goes out to each individual here. You will answer yes or no. Anyone who refuses to respond will be deemed a traitor and executed."

A ripple of unease passed through the crowd.

"Are you a spy?"

The officers stiffened, eyes darting to one another.

"Didn't you hear me?"

Lovainne's voice was colder now.

"I said, are you a spy!?"

"NO!"

The men chorused with loud and firm voices.

Beside Lovainne, Lugh studied the multitude of soldiers in front, and his right eye—the Mawglass—flickered to life.