Chapter 149: Taren’s Confusion.

Inside the Knight Order’s temporary camp, Taren had just returned from the battlefield.

He lowered himself onto a wooden crate with visible difficulty, a sharp grimace crossing his face as pain flared through his chest.

Thick bandages were wrapped tightly around his torso. Every breath he drew was shallow and strained.

In his hand, he held a dented metal mug.

He raised it and took a long swallow of strong alcohol, hoping the burn in his throat would dull the agony radiating through his ribs.

The battle against the Beast God Sect had taken a heavy toll not only on him, but on every member of the Knight Order.

To halt the sect’s advance, they had paid dearly.

Many had given up their lives.

Many had lost limbs.

Some were crippled for life.

For those unfortunates enough to survive with cripple legs, advancement was no longer possible.

Their path as awakeners had ended on that blood-soaked field.

The thought of his fallen brothers and sisters twisted something deep inside Taren’s chest, a pain sharper than his physical wounds.

His jaw tightened.

His grip around the mug grew firm enough that it creaked under the pressure, as though he might crush it at any moment.

His hatred for the Beast God Sect had never burned this fiercely.

“Damn bastards,” he muttered bitterly, spitting onto the dirt.

Thud.

Thud.

Heavy footsteps approached him. Taren lifted his head slowly, eyes narrowing despite his fatigue.

Darius stopped a few feet away and looked at his commander.

It was the first time he had seen Taren so gravely injured.

Even in previous campaigns, their leader had stood tall and unshaken. Now, however, the strain was unmistakable.

From the depth of the wounds alone, Darius could imagine how brutal the clash had truly been.

“I heard you allowed three of our members to follow a necromancer,” Taren said, his brow furrowing deeply.

Darius did not attempt to deny it.

There was no reason to lie.

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “He needed the locations of both the Federation hideout and the Slave Trade Guild. I assigned three of our men to act as navigators.”

Taren’s frown deepened. “Why would he need their hideouts? Is he planning to form an alliance with them?”

The Knight Order had already lost half its strength to the Beast God Sect.

They could not afford another prolonged battle again. Their wounded needed time to recover.

Their morale, all time low.

Darius shook his head. “No. He intends to eradicate them.”

Taren blinked. For a moment, he said nothing. Then his eyes widened slightly, and his jaw slackened.

“What did you just say?” he asked slowly.

“I said the necromancer intends to eradicate them,” Darius repeated evenly.

He understood how absurd it sounded.

Had he not witnessed Thoren’s power with his own eyes, he would have dismissed the claim as madness.

But it was not madness.

With what he had seen, Darius knew that Thoren possessed the strength to confront such forces without being overwhelmed.

The Knight Order, on the other hand, was fighting too many enemies on too many fronts. They were stretched thin and bleeding from every side.

Disappointment crept across Taren’s battered face. “Darius,” he said sternly, “I expected better judgment from you in my absence, not this.”

He straightened his back despite the pain, anger beginning to overtake exhaustion.

“How can you possibly believe that a mere necromancer could destroy both the Federation and the Slave Trade Guild?”

His voice rose noticeably.

He was seething.

Darius was his second-in-command. He was supposed to be rational, cautious, and difficult to sway.

Yet now he was repeating what sounded like a child’s fantasy.

More troubling was the source of the claim.

A necromancer.

Necromancers were evil. Their words could not be trusted.

What if the man was manipulating them?

What if he planned to conduct his own inhuman experiments?

To use the Knight Order as sacrifices?

To harvest their body parts to strengthen his undead servants?

“I will hold you personally responsible if anything happens to those three” Taren declared coldly, anger and disappointment boiling within him.

Darius opened his mouth to explain further but at that very moment, the ground beneath the camp began to tremble.

At first, it was faint, barely noticeable.

Then it intensified.

Loose dirt shook from beneath their boots.

Taren shot to his feet despite the agony in his chest, his expression turning grave.

“Intruder! Prepare for battle!” he roared.

Instantly, tension rippled through the camp. Exhausted and wounded as they were, the members of the Knight Order rushed to seize their weapons.

Shields were raised.

Blades were drawn.

Formations were assembled with disciplined precision.

They were tired.

They were injured.

But they would not break.

Darius stepped beside Taren, gripping his broadsword tightly. His eyes scanned left and right, searching for the source of the disturbance.

Then Taren’s gaze snapped toward the eastern horizon.

From that direction, a massive cobra was racing toward the camp at terrifying speed.

Its enormous body crushed trees and shattered rocks in its path as though they were fragile twigs. The ground cracked beneath its weight.

Its scales shimmered ominously under the light.

“T-This beast…” Taren muttered under his breath. “It belongs to the leader of the Beast God Sect.”

Their already dire situation had just worsened.

Of all possible enemies to appear at this moment, why did it have to be her?

Taren and Darius exchanged a brief glance. No fear passed between them, only silent determination.

The two stepped forward together.

“Riona!” Taren called out, forcing strength into his voice. “Have you come to die?”

Standing atop the massive cobra’s head, Riona’s expression remained unchanged.

Her long hair fluttered in the wind as the serpent slowed to a halt several yards from the Knight Order’s defensive line.

The cobra’s slit pupils fixed upon the humans with unmistakable malice.

its forked tongue flicking through the air as if tasting their fear. It coiled slightly, ready to strike when commanded.

“I am looking for a necromancer,” Riona said coolly, completely ignoring Taren’s provocation. “Have you seen him?”

Taren scoffed. “Why should we tell you? We are not your subordinates.”

“If you want to find someone, do it yourself. Do not come here to disturb us.”

He lifted his chin defiantly. “And do not think you can intimidate us with that oversized snake.”

For a brief moment, Riona’s gaze sharpened, and a faint killing intent seeped into the air.

The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive.

She was on the verge of unleashing her fury when something shifted.

Her expression changed slightly, as though she had received a signal from afar. Her eyes flickered toward the direction of the distant ravine.

Without hesitation, she tapped the cobra’s head lightly.

“Move.”

The massive serpent obeyed instantly. With astonishing speed, it turned and shot away from the camp, disappearing toward the ravine in a matter of seconds.

The Knight Order stood frozen, stunned by the abrupt departure.

No one breathes loudly.

Everywhere was strangely quiet

“What just happened?” a person muttered in confusion.

Taren slowly turned his head to look at Darius. “Is it what I think it is?” he asked quietly.

A faint smile appeared on Darius’s face.

He nodded.

“Tell me,” Taren demanded, his voice low but intense. “What exactly is going on?”

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