Free Web Novel"Position three cleared."
"Position five, two tripwires, disarmed."
"Pressure plate detected at position seven, processing... processing complete."
Ten minutes ago, Igor was crouching behind a pile of pipes, watching his people work methodically.
Voices came from all directions, converging on him through crude acoustic tubes.
Igor nodded, crossing off another item in his mind.
So far, everything was going smoothly.
Seventy percent of the alarm systems had been disabled.
The remaining thirty percent would be meaningless after the explosion—by the time the alarms sounded, the battle would already be over.
They had also dismantled several traps.
Traps that were a mix of landmines and relics of the return.
Some were even quite cleverly set; without accurate intelligence, they would have lost at least two or three people.
But they had intelligence.
Very accurate intelligence.
Igor's gaze shifted to a figure not far away.
Sophie Lanz.
The information broker for the Children of Dawn.
Her chestnut hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and with dark circles under her eyes, she looked exhausted, as if she hadn't slept for days.
But her eyes were very bright.
An unnaturally bright light.
Igor had seen that look before.
On the battlefield.
In the eyes of those who had lost everything and had only one goal left.
The look of revenge.
The intelligence Sophie provided was extremely detailed.
The layout of the Containment Zone, the guard shift times, the locations of the traps.
There were even records of the combat habits of that woman named Eleanor.
This was crucial.
If expectations held, the biggest challenge tonight would be that woman named Eleanor.
Although he had fought Eleanor not long ago, he had been taken down before he could even see her moves clearly.
With intelligence, even he was confident enough to trade a few blows with Eleanor, not to mention the powerful allies he had brought today.
In exchange, she demanded to participate in this mission.
"To ensure the intelligence is accurate," she had said.
Igor did not refuse.
There was no reason to refuse.
Having an extra person familiar with the terrain only had benefits and no downsides.
As for what her true purpose was...
Igor didn't care.
Everyone has their own reasons.
Everyone has someone they want to kill.
As long as it didn't interfere with the mission, he would let her be.
With her help.
The fires in the Old City were burning.
The Military Police Wayfarer squad that originally guarded this place had also been lured to the Old City by design, trapped in that sea of fire, and should still be entangled with the various monsters there.
No one would come to reinforce this place.
No one would notice this place.
The attention of all Eisenburg was drawn to that great fire.
And they, under the cover of this chaos, could silently approach their target.
"Boss."
A voice spoke up from beside him.
It was his second-in-command, a middle-aged man with a scar on his face.
"The Demolition Team is ready."
"What about the others?"
"In position."
Igor stood up.
He looked around.
Fifty-seven people.
This was all the strength he could mobilize.
Elite warriors of the Fire of Freedom, plus Wayfarer mercenaries provided by the Children of Dawn.
For today, he had bet all the pieces he could use in Eisenburg.
Except for Natasha.
Igor could tell that from that day on, Natasha's commitment to the cause of ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) the Fire of Freedom had wavered.
Participating in the mission in this state would not only be unhelpful to the mission but would also harm her.
So he simply didn't notify her.
Let her stay away from all this for a while; she shouldn't have been involved in these dangerous matters anyway.
He had once made a vow.
Five years ago, in the ruins burned by war, holding his shivering sister, he had made a vow.
He would not let anyone harm her.
Even if she now had a small disagreement with him and began to question whether what he did was just.
The vow would not waver.
Wait until this is all over.
Wait until the war ends.
He would take Natasha and leave.
To a place without war.
To live a peaceful life.
But before that...
He still had things to do.
"Boss."
The second-in-command's voice sounded again.
"Shall we start?"
Igor took a deep breath.
"Let's begin."
After receiving the order, the Ferrymen of the Children of Dawn began to move.
Three mercenaries of the Path of the Tower stood before the wall, their hands pressed against the cold stone.
That wall was reinforced.
It was over two meters thick.
A mix of rebar and some special alloy.
Ordinary explosives couldn't blow it open.
But the Path of the Tower could.
Their palms began to glow.
A dark red light.
Like flowing lava, or like congealed blood.
The wall began to tremble.
Cracks spread out from their fingertips.
Like a spiderweb.
Like lightning.
Like a precursor to the end of the world.
"Three..."
"Two..."
"One..."
BOOM—!!
The wall exploded.
Debris flew everywhere.
Dust filled the air.
The shockwave sent a heatwave that made everyone involuntarily squint their eyes. freёwebnoѵel.com
Igor didn't squint.
He was the first to charge in.
Through the smoke and dust.
Through the rubble.
Through the gap that had just been torn open.
His dagger was already unsheathed.
His body was ready for combat.
His eyes were searching for the target—
And then.
He saw a fist.
A very small fist. frёewebnoѵēl.com
A slender wrist.
Pale skin.
The fist was flying toward his face.
At an incredible speed.
So fast he had no time to react.
So fast his brain hadn't even finished processing the question "What is that?"—
Thump.
The bridge of his nose broke.
His body flew backward.
Like a baseball hit by a bat.
He flew past the second-in-command who had been standing right behind him.
Flew past those three Ferrymen of the Path of the Tower.
Flew for several meters.
Then slammed heavily onto the ground.
Tumbling.
Tumbling again.
Finally crashing into a pipe before coming to a stop.
Pain.
Pain so intense his vision went black.
Pain so intense he almost lost consciousness.
But he still struggled to lift his head.
Through his blurred vision.
Through the drifting dust.
He saw it.
A figure.
Standing atop the pile of broken bricks from the collapsed wall.
Short silver hair.
A dark gray cloak.
A dirty school uniform.
She was rolling her shoulders, as if that punch just now had only been a warm-up.
Then, she looked up.
A crimson light burned in her pupils.
Like the fires from the depths of hell.
She looked at them.
Looked at this group of fully armed intruders.
She smiled.
"Good evening, everyone."
Pavela said.
"Welcome to the Schwartz Family territory."
"May I ask—"
"Do you have an appointment?"
