Gunmage-Chapter 47: Beast of steel

The elf raised his hand, his gaze murderous. The man behind the desk reacted instantly, stepping forward in alarm.

"Lord Emrys, please show some mercy!"

The elf nearly scoffed.

"Cipher!"

His voice rang out with an eerie resonance, layered with a mystical power that made the air feel heavier.

"I've been mocked, called incompetent! And you want me to show mercy?"

Lugh watched the scene unfold with a detached expression. His presence was silent and motionless, yet ever observant.

Emrys caught his gaze and paused, his eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion.

"How curious. Even at this point, you still do not fear for your life."

"Please quell your anger, great Lord. He still has valuable information we need."

Lugh's mind raced, piecing together details. From the short exchange, he gleaned two things. First, 'Cipher' was the alias the man had given the elf.

Second, the fact that Emrys, a high-ranking elf, was here in this room, in this department, could mean he lacked proficiency in Heiro, and required human translators.

That alone wasn't remarkable, but it led to deeper questions.

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Why was an elf of his status required to come here? It would have been far safer for Heieg's upper ranks to keep a closer eye on him by assigning a personal translator.

Their intelligence division was ruthless, their spy network extensive. The idea of leaving an elf—a species rumored to have lingering ties with Ophris—unmonitored was absurd.

And yet, here Emrys was, untethered, even after Heieg suffered a devastating loss in the north due to his counsel.

Lugh's mind continued its rapid-fire analysis, a habit instilled after consuming the life experiences of the late spy Riley Osniel.

His perspective had changed. Every minute detail now carried the weight of hidden meanings.

Cipher's desperate pleas seemed to soften the elf, if only slightly.

"For your insolence, I'll be taking your wretched tongue with me."

Cipher stiffened.

"I'm sorry, but as I said, we still need information from him. Extracting it without his tongue would be... difficult."

He hesitated before adding

"Perhaps... a finger would suffice?"

A cruel smile played on Emrys' lips as he pondered the suggestion.

"Very well."

'Sadistic bastard'

Lugh thought. He could see it, the elf was looking forward to his pain. Anticipating his screams. He would have to disappoint.

Before Lugh could react, Cipher had already drawn a dagger and, with a swift motion, severed his own ring finger.

Blood spattered onto the desk. He inhaled sharply, but his expression remained impassive. His body trembled slightly, more from the shock of the wound than the pain itself.

Without hesitation, he reached for a drawer, retrieving a small flask of alcohol. Pouring it over the fresh injury sent a searing jolt through his nerves, but he merely gritted his teeth.

He wrapped the wound with a bandage, then picked up the severed finger, bundling it in newspaper before presenting it to the elf.

"I hope it's to your liking"

He said, his voice steady despite the slight tremor.

Emrys eyed him, momentarily thrown off.

His fingers twitched as he accepted the grotesque offering. A glare darkened his features, he turned to Lugh.

"We'll meet again."

And then, he vanished.

The room plunged into thick silence.

Cipher, still clutching his bleeding hand, finally broke it.

"What the hell was that?!"

"What do you mean?"

Lugh feigned ignorance.

Cipher's gaze was sharp.

"We're trained not to show our true expressions. Not to have opinions. And yet you broke all of those rules today, even at the cost of your life. Were you provoking him, or were those your honest feelings?"

Lugh realized his mistake. His act may have been convincing to Emrys, but to an agent of Heieg, the subtext was entirely different. They didn't see defiance, they saw a deeper motive.

'How could I screw up something so simple?'

He almost face-palmed.

Lugh's puppet inhaled deeply, exhaled, then rose from its chair. With slow, measured steps, it walked toward the window, staring at the setting sun.

Meanwhile, in a different location, the real Lugh hurriedly relayed the situation to his allies, Lovainne and the others, who were engrossed in a card game.

"I showed emotions when I wasn't supposed to. The agents of Heieg have caught on. What should I do?"

Lovainne tapped a gloved finger on the table before stating

"Just say some vague shit like you're tired or something."

He placed a card on the stack and turned to Xhi.

"Pick two."

The priestess scowled.

"...Right"

Lugh affirmed.

Back in Drakensmar, the puppet continued staring at the horizon. Then, in a voice laden with the vicissitudes of life, it spoke.

"I guess you could say... I'm already tired."

A heavy silence followed. Then Cipher sighed, his voice unexpectedly melancholic.

"I see. It happens to the best of us. We're still human after all."

'Too f*cking easy!'

Lugh mentally exclaimed.

Smart people were the easiest to manipulate. A few meaningless words, and they would quickly construct their own explanations.

'It happens to the best of us? The hell was that supposed to mean?!'

Cipher moved beside him, pulling out a cigarette.

"You smoke?"

"I don't."

"Your loss."

He lit it, taking a long drag.

Lugh finally turned to him.

"Do you think we can win against the 7th Division?"

Cipher scoffed.

"You mean General Garrick and his gang of armored toys?"

"Toys?"

"Ophris plagiarized our armored cars. Their designs are based on ours. The final products will be definitely be inferior. Cheap knockoffs at best."

Lugh said nothing, processing this information.

Cipher, noticing his mood, smirked.

"Come. Let me show you something."

They left the room and moved like shadows, unnoticed by the workers bustling through the corridors. Or perhaps they were noticed, but deliberately ignored.

They reached outside. The journey wasn't too long. Their path led them to a restricted area. By now, night had fallen, but the glow of gas lamps bathed the scene in a warm, flickering light.

Lugh held his breath when he saw it.

A behemoth of steel stood before him. Ten feet tall, twenty-six feet long, its entire structure encased in thick armor plating. Two massive 57mm cannons jutted from its frame, complemented by several .303 machine guns.

It was a hulking rhomboid shaped machine with treads wrapping around its entire body like a monstrous caterpillar.

His voice almost faltered.

"W-what the hell is this?"

Cipher chuckled.

"This, my friend, is what we call a tank."