As Northrun’s words fell,
the gazes within the command tent shifted back to Lord Lortissa.
Among the crowd, surprise, curiosity, and even hints of admiration mingled within their complex expressions.
“…Is it really true? Captain Lortissa actually has such foresight?”
“What Knight Commander Northrun said must be correct.”
“But if there’s such an important lead, why wasn’t it mentioned in the previous battle meeting report?”
Amid the murmurs, Lortissa remained indifferent,
but her emerald eyes instantly turned cold and sharp.
She lifted her head to meet Northrun’s gaze, which seemed admiring but hid a subtle edge.
“Is there really such a person, Captain Lortissa?”
Count Leicester’s deep voice cut in.
The usually cold and straightforward young captain fell into a rare silence,
and within it, one could detect a trace of deliberate evasion and hesitation.
Meeting the most important person in her heart again, bringing Vies back was to keep him by my side—
how could she possibly allow him to be used as bait to lure out the Disaster Source?!
Yet Northrun seemed oblivious to the chill in those emerald eyes.
He took the initiative to answer the count’s question on behalf of the young captain:
“Ah, there is indeed such a person. A mercenary, said to be a survivor of the Soul-Eater’s attack, who was fortunately rescued and brought back by Lady Lortissa for treatment.”
Northrun paused, letting the information ferment among the officers.
“In the past two days, this matter has spread among the rank-and-file soldiers. That mercenary is quite skilled, having faced off against one of my unit’s Holy Paladins and escaped unharmed, which speaks volumes about his ability.”
Hearing this, the others recalled something.
Though the officers hadn’t seen it themselves, they’d often overheard soldiers discussing this matter lately,
mentioning a training skirmish at the knight camp that caused quite a stir.
“Having had direct contact with the Disaster Source, he must carry the taint of calamity. As a capable mercenary, he’s far more suited to coordinate with military operations than ordinary civilians—such a candidate couldn’t be more appropriate.
Personally, I believe Lady Lortissa didn’t formally report this before out of a moral obligation to aid the wounded and perhaps didn’t realize its strategic significance.
Unexpectedly, what seemed like a casual act to gather information has become the key to breaking the deadlock in our battle plans…”
Northrun turned to Count Leicester and the other officers, gracefully spreading his hands.
“This series of coincidences feels as though the Holy God above has bestowed blessings upon us, surely aiding us in cleansing this curse tide. The Lord is merciful and watches over all living beings!”
At those words, the white-haired young man appeared almost radiant behind his praying hands and closed eyes.
Not only did he clarify the operational elements,
but he also filled everyone with renewed confidence.
At the same time, his flawless statement cleverly eased the awkwardness caused by the young captain’s deliberate concealment.
Yet Lortissa was unmoved.
Suppressing a fury she had never felt before, she immediately rose, her voice sharper than usual:
“Count, I believe Knight Commander Northrun’s proposal warrants reconsideration. While it’s true the survivor was attacked by the Disaster Source, after these few days of treatment, much of the calamity’s taint on him may have been cleansed, making him unsuitable as bait.
Even if we were to attempt it, time is short, and I believe we should select a more reasonable and reliable method…”
A low murmur immediately echoed within the tent.
The officers glanced between the icy expression of Lortissa and Northrun’s composed smile, feeling puzzled.
Why were these two’s opinions so contradictory?
Had they not discussed the proposal beforehand?
Northrun was unsurprised by Lortissa’s reaction.
He smiled lightly and said,
“Your concerns are reasonable. I merely proposed this as a feasible and relatively reliable plan. If anyone has other methods to locate the Disaster Source, please bring them forward.
Actually, the border forces aren’t short on manpower. Search operations can be carried out in groups. Once found, an elite strike team will execute the cleansing and hunt. After all, fishermen don’t always cast their nets in the same place.
Of course, whether to implement this plan and how exactly to do so is ultimately up to the commander’s decision.”
Logically and reasonably, there was no rebuttal.
The officers all nodded in agreement, turning their gazes to Count Leicester.
Only Lortissa remained unconvinced.
Regardless of reason or logic, she could not accept crossing her bottom line.
“—But…”
“All right.”
The count’s hoarse, solemn voice cut off the young captain’s insistence.
“I have heard all your opinions. Everyone makes valid points. But as for deciding whether this can be an actionable plan, vague descriptions aren’t enough. Knight Commander Northrun—”
“Yes, Count.”
“Regarding your proposal to use the calamity’s taint as bait to lure out the Soul-Eater, is there a practical method to carry this out?”
“I have already consulted the accompanying Holy Priest; it is not difficult.”
Upon hearing this reliable answer, the officers exchanged relieved smiles,
finally seeing something concrete to hold onto.
The count nodded approvingly:
“Then method-wise, there is no problem. I approve your proposal. The remaining issue lies in the consent of the cooperating party—”
He stroked his graying beard, then abruptly shifted his gaze to Lortissa:
“Captain Lortissa.”
“At your command, my lord.”
“While Northrun’s proposal is indeed highly feasible, I also understand your concerns. Leading the western border forces is not like commanding a prison camp, nor are we tyrants of the march. When it involves people outside the army—even mercenaries—we respect their opinions. So, this matter requires discussing with the survivor himself… Where is he now?”
“Reporting to the count… He is still at the Vanguard Battalion camp.”
“Good. Then have him brought here at once.”
Though the count’s tone was far from an order,
his gentle voice bore the weight of command like a sacred incantation, leaving no room for defiance.
The severity and prestige he wielded on the battlefield felt like a mountain pressing down,
even Captain Lortissa, the kingdom’s strongest soldier, clearly sensed that heavy oppression.
Yet despite this, she stubbornly lifted her head.
But… it was somewhat reassuring—
at least Count Leicester was reasonable,
not like that damned knight who always stirred trouble, recklessly wanting someone to act as bait, treating people as mere tools.
(So… if Vies is unwilling, there’s still time to help him get out of this…)
Thinking this, she drew a slow breath and reluctantly nodded:
“Yes.”