Chapter Fifty-One: Lox's Doubts

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How monstrous must evil be, to commit such a cruel atrocity?

Standing before the ruins, gazing at the mutilated remains of the old archbishop, Lox’s expression was as cold as ice. It was not only him; the paladins at his side bore equally grave faces, their jaws clenched tight. All were battle-hardened warriors, men who had seen countless hardships and swung their swords against numberless foes. Yet even so, confronted with this hellish scene, they could not help but burn with rage.

A miscalculation!

Clenching his fists, Lox bit his lip in frustration. Ever since the patrol he’d sent out vanished, he had redoubled the search and surveillance of that area. Now, it was clear that his defensive measures had been utterly ineffective. Those fiendish dwellers of the deep had managed to slip through his lines undetected, to strike at the rear outpost and utterly annihilate it. They had known nothing of it until their patrol returned, only to discover this carnage—an outcome none of them could accept.

“My lord, we have found the tracks of those vile creatures. Please, let us depart at once and destroy them—avenge the old archbishop!”

“My lord! Give the command! So long as we can wipe out these scum, we would lay down our lives without a moment’s hesitation!”

The knights clustered around Lox had begun to shout, eyes wide, faces twisted with irrepressible fury. It was hardly surprising. Since coming to the Shadowed Realm, apart from a few early setbacks due to unfamiliarity with the surroundings, they had suffered no real defeats. Even the monsters lurking deep beneath the earth had perished before their holy light and unwavering faith. Victory upon victory had left the knights increasingly self-assured, even arrogant.

Indeed, just before this patrol ended, they had been idly discussing how to bring back the corpses of these underground fiends, to show the world their triumph over evil. They had not expected retribution to come so swiftly, reality to deal them such a harsh, humiliating blow.

“Silence, all of you!”

Lox’s roar echoed like thunder through the mine, and at his words, the rest stiffened, falling instantly silent. They glanced furtively at him, seeing for the first time the bloodshot eyes of their Grand Commander, the gaze of a wrathful god fixed upon them. His eyes swept over them like invisible blades, piercing each man's heart and making it clench in fear.

“…Tend to the battlefield. Bury the dead. They fell in the struggle against evil; we must ensure their souls find rest. Do you understand? Go, now! Also, send word to Archbishop Borson: tell him our supply camp has been assaulted by the Children of Darkness, and we require reinforcements.”

“My lord!”

At this, the knights’ faces changed. Archbishop Borson was the supreme commander of this campaign, and as the high priest of the Temple of the War God, his relationship with the Grand Commander was notoriously strained. If Borson had not deliberately made things difficult, would Lox, the commander of all paladins, really be leading scouts in the field? It was an insult to his rank, tasked with clearing out the periphery of the Shadowed Realm. Had Lox been at the supply camp, perhaps the disaster would not have been so grave.

Now, Lox was to report this to Borson? Even the dullest knight could imagine what would come next.

“My lord! This is not your fault! You repeatedly requested additional troops to reinforce the supply base. It was that old fossil Borson who refused, claiming ‘the threat of the Shadowed Realm is negligible, and sending too many men would only waste resources.’ This is not on you!”

But Lox silenced his subordinate with a chilling wave.

“It matters not. Things have come to this; there is no sense in debating past grievances. The fact remains: we failed to defend the supply camp. Bishop Alexis, the itinerant prelate, has perished. These are failings we cannot deny. Now, all we can do is what must be done.”

With that, his face hardened once more.

“Enough. No more talk. Do your duty. Understood?”

“…Yes, sir.”

Seeing Lox’s demeanor, the knights knew his mind was set; there would be no persuading him. They could only answer weakly, then disperse in resignation to clear the wreckage and gather the dead. Only one knight remained, stepping forward once the others had gone, and asked curiously,

“My lord, is this matter truly so grave? Granted, the fault is partly ours, but the rear…”

“No, it’s not that simple.”

Lox shook his head, his gaze fixed all the darker on the old archbishop’s corpse.

“What happens next is beyond us—political disputes are for others to resolve. What worries me is here and now. You see, the group that raided the outpost was no ordinary foe. How do you think they breached our defenses?”

“Well…”

The lieutenant hesitated, then answered, “Perhaps by sheer numbers? After all, this is the Shadowed Realm. The Children of Darkness probably lay in hiding, mapped our patrol routes and times, then attacked en masse while our main force was away. We’re not familiar with the terrain—there could be secret tunnels…”

“Then why are there no bodies of the Children of Darkness?”

“Perhaps… they took them away? Since they looted the entire outpost, it’s not strange they would remove their own dead as well.”

“Is that what everyone else thinks?”

“Yes…”

Though Lox’s questioning hinted at something deeper, the lieutenant could only nod, uneasy. From his commander’s look, he sensed something was amiss, but he could not discern what.

Seeing the confusion in his subordinate’s eyes, Lox sighed inwardly, then gestured toward the battlefield.

“At first glance, it seems the outpost suffered a massive assault, overwhelmed by force. But that’s not the truth.”

“You mean…”

“Look,” Lox turned and pointed ahead. “If you observe carefully, some corpses are outside the outpost, while others, though within, are still positioned beyond the main gate. This suggests that at first, the defenders launched an attack on the enemy. When they realized they were outmatched, they retreated in haste—but too late, and many were cut down outside before they could return.”

“They attacked head-on?”

The lieutenant was stunned. In hindsight, with the outpost so thoroughly destroyed, their enemies must have been fearsome indeed. For the defenders to attempt a frontal assault—did they have a death wish?

“What’s more, I checked the outpost’s emergency beacon. It was completely intact, undamaged—yet it was never activated. What do you make of that?”

“Well…”

“Bishop Alexis was a cautious man. I spoke with him often, and trusted his management of this camp. For him not to call for aid at the first sign of attack can only mean one thing: the enemy did not appear dangerous at first. Perhaps he mistook them for a minor threat—a routine raid by the Children of Darkness. That would explain why he did not send for help, but instead ordered the guards to attack, believing the outpost could easily defeat the foe.”

With a sharp gesture, Lox continued, “But he miscalculated, as the battlefield shows. The guards he sent out were annihilated. The old bishop, caught off guard, hastily recalled the survivors, hoping to preserve some strength. But in the end, he failed. The enemy wiped out everyone in the outpost. I suspect the old bishop was pinned down, unable to escape. Still, something is odd… With his caution, Alexis would never have sent out all his men; he would surely have kept a reserve in case of disaster…”

“My lord! My lord!”

At that moment, a shout rang out from within the outpost. Lox looked up to see a pallid-faced paladin running toward him.

“It’s terrible—in the outpost—there are bodies—and—”

“Calm yourself!”

Lox fixed the frantic knight with a stern glare, then cast a quick sidelong glance at his lieutenant.

It seems his suspicions had been confirmed.

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