Chapter 119 119: The Waiting Trap (part 1)

Words : 1046 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

The swift and severe punishments send shockwaves through the aristocracy. In a dimly lit chamber, a group of nobles gathers, their faces etched with worry. "This is madness," A lord mutters, his voice trembling. "The king executes our peers without proper evidence. Who among us is safe?" A lady noble nods in agreement. "We must act. If we remain silent, we risk our lives and the very fabric of our nobility." Another lord, older and with a stern demeanor, raises a hand. "We cannot openly oppose the king, but we must make our grievances known. A delegation to plead for reason, perhaps?" The nobles murmur in agreement, understanding the delicate balance they must maintain. Back in the palace, Alden approaches Edric cautiously. "Your Majesty, unrest grows among the nobility. They feel threatened by the recent executions." Edric's eyes narrow. "Let them feel threatened. Perhaps then they'll remember their duty to the crown." Alden bows his head, concern evident. "I fear pushing them too hard may lead to rebellion, sire. We need unity now more than ever." Edric sighs, the weight of leadership bearing down on him. "What would you have me do? Sit idly by while traitors undermine our kingdom?" "No, Your Majesty," Alden replies gently. "But discernment is key. Justice must be tempered with wisdom." Edric falls silent, contemplating his advisor's words, as the kingdom teeters on the brink of internal strife amidst external threats. ------ In the command tent, Marshal Zinov sits at the head of a large wooden table, his fingers massaging his temples as he reviews the latest reports. Across from him, Pavel leans forward, his eyes scanning the same documents. Zinov exhales sharply, placing the papers down. "These Raltheon soldiers are barely more than farmers with spears," he mutters. "If I had my troops, it would be a different story." Pavel nods, his brow furrowed. "Agreed. Their lack of discipline is evident. But dwelling on what we lack won't change our situation." Pavel leans back slightly, choosing his words carefully. "Marshal how about this. Instead of passively waiting, we should take the initiative. Let's attack them separately. By doing so, we can exploit their lack of coordination and possibly determine if they have more Tier 5 combatants among them." Zinov's eyes narrow as he considers the suggestion. "You're suggesting we engage in detail, defeating isolated enemy units before they can consolidate their strength?" Pavel nods. "Exactly. By targeting their fragmented units, we can reduce their numbers and gather intelligence on their capabilities." Zinov taps his fingers on the table, deep in thought. "It's a risky move. Our own forces are not at their peak." Pavel leans forward, his voice steady. "True, but waiting will only allow them to strengthen. Taking the offensive might disrupt their plans and give us the upper hand." After a long pause, Zinov exhales and nods. "Very well. Prepare the orders. We'll strike their isolated units at dawn." Pavel's lips curve into a slight smile. "Good. I'll lead the adventurers; you lead the soldiers. I'll target Crass City. I've heard it's become a bustling marketplace. The adventurers will be more than happy to join me." Zinov raises an eyebrow. "Crass City? It's a strategic location. If we can secure it, we'll disrupt their supply lines." Pavel nods. "Exactly. As the strongest adventurer in Ordeya Kingdom, I have enough reputation to lead the stubborn adventurers. They'll follow me into battle." Zinov thought, 'Pavel is not a soldier, so I can't order him around. Even though I'm stronger, we're both still Tier 5.' Zinov leans back, studying Pavel. "Ok, I trust your judgment." The bustling marketplace of Crass City moves as usual, unaware of the storm about to descend upon it. Merchants haggle over prices, carts creak under the weight of goods, and the scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the metallic tang of sharpened steel from the local blacksmith. But beyond the city walls, a different kind of business is unfolding. Pavel and the adventurers, hardened warriors from different field, have taken positions around the outskirts, waiting for the right moment to strike. Hidden in alleys, on rooftops, and within the tree line, they hold their breath, ready for the command. Unbeknownst to them, Varkas already knows they're coming. Thanks to the Shadows, the monster army is prepared. Sorin, Nyssara, Thurn, and Veltha stand at the ready with fifty thousand disciplined soldiers, concealed along both flanks of the city. They wait, poised like coiled vipers, allowing the adventurers to step further into their trap before the jaws snap shut. Sorin crouches in the shadows, her daggers glinting faintly in the dim light. Her eyes remain locked on the rooftops, watching the movements of the adventurers. "They're moving in as expected," she whispers. Nyssara, standing nearby, flexes her elongated sword-limbs. "Good. Let them come. When they commit to the attack, we'll strike from both sides." Thurn tilts his head, his voice calm but laced with malice. "And if they try to retreat?" Veltha coils her serpentine lower half, her fangs glistening with venom. "Then they die tired." They wait. Then— A figure rises into the sky, floating above the city like an omen of destruction. Zinov. His presence commanding and ominous. Channeling his energy, he unleashes a Tier 4 skill—a massive torrent of fire that engulfs the city's outer defenses. The sudden explosion sends shockwaves through Crass City. Pavel raises his greatsword, rallying his comrades, "Now! For Ordeya!" With a unified roar, the adventurers charge, breaching the city's perimeter amidst the chaos. At that moment, Varkas gives the signal. From the shadows, the monster forces surge forward, encircling the unsuspecting adventurers. Sorin leads her unit with lethal precision, targeting the rear guard. Nyssara's soldiers clash head-on, their brute strength halting the adventurers' momentum. Thurn's contingent rains venomous arrows from elevated positions, sowing further confusion. Veltha's forces strike from the flanks, cutting off any chance of retreat. Pavel, realizing the trap, bellows, "Hold the line! Don't let them divide us!" But the ambush is expertly executed, exploiting the adventurers' fragmented formation and lack of cohesive strategy.

Chapter 119 119: The Waiting Trap (part 1)

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