186. A Traitor Among Us
Drip, drip—
The crisp sound of water droplets splashing echoed in the underground bunker.
Lucite lowered his head, walking with the battered group, feeling a hint of doubt and confusion.
"How did we get to this point?"
Two hours ago, they were armed to the teeth, leaving the school with magical tomes and forbidden spell books, brimming with confidence as they swept through the Colonial Troopers.
But within just a few minutes, they had fled in disarray.
The Colonial Troopers, like endless waves, emerged incessantly, descending from the skies, crawling through cracks, emerging from pipelines and underground, spreading across the land, and prowling in lakes and waterways.
They were everywhere.
The first to fall were the Tanasian students—though the patrol team repeatedly promised everyone's safety, the safest core positions were never allocated to the Tanasian students.
Since most Tanasian students were enrolled in applied magic, they were conscripted to fill battle gaps when manpower was insufficient, only to be torn apart by the overwhelming wave of Colonial Troopers.
Torn apart literally.
Right before everyone's eyes, flesh and fat were visibly squeezed out, intestines ruptured, hearts and lungs were gouged out. They watched helplessly as the Colonial Troopers's tendrils pierced nostrils, delving into the brain to extract memories and information.
They fired frantically and fled, using every type of magic to bombard and clear the area. Their confident reserves of firepower crumbled like fragile cardboard under the relentless onslaught.
Confidence, composure, overwhelmed, embarrassed, exhausted, and defeated.
Until now, they had retreated into underground shelters, fleeing like stray dogs.
Lucite glanced at the group.
At the start, there had been a grand total of 54 people.
Now, including the patrol members, only seven remained.
The patrol leader who had gotten along well with Hobbs earlier had his head severed by a Colonial Troopers. Lucite didn't even know his name.
The remaining group included three patrol members: leader Mordot, deputy Silya, and second-year Delta-rank student Kurt.
Then there were Lucite, Hobbs, and two highly esteemed foreign royals: Solis Jam II of the Zuzhan Court and Maria Xuan Yin, daughter of the President of the Veer Republic.
These two held incredibly high status, both being heirs to their nations' thrones. To rescue them, the patrol members sacrificed seven lives, ensuring they remained unharmed and dignified.
Why did it turn out this way?
Lucite reflected on the battles along the way. They had carefully avoided various paths, yet somehow, the Colonial Troopers always appeared at the most opportune times, striking during their rest or intercepting shortly after an ambush.
Wave after wave of attacks drained their magic reserves and depleted their spell scrolls.
"Old Luc…"
Hobbs wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his ringed finger appearing more faded. He rested a hand on Lucite's shoulder, feigning a sprained ankle while whispering:
"Don't you think it's strange?"
"A bit, yes…"
Lucite nodded.
"The Colonial Troopers's appearances were too coincidental, almost as if they had completely anticipated our route."
Hobbs closed one eye, speaking softly, yet his words were overheard by someone nearby.
"You think so too, huh?"
The Zuzhan Court prince, Jam II, suddenly said loudly:
"Everywhere we've been attacked shows clear intent. Obviously, our information has been leaked!"
'Tch! What an idiot!'
Hobbs cursed internally.
Some things are better kept to oneself. Why bring it up?
Clang.
The advancing group suddenly stopped.
Clearly, Jam II's abrupt statement had drawn everyone's attention.
"Prince Jam, what do you mean by that?" Silya frowned. "The Colonial Troopers are endless. Who knows how many forces the Remaining Moon deployed? It's not something we can control."
"Is that so? Why do I feel like this route has been wrong from the start?"
Jam II sneered:
"Fifty kilometers—if we took the underground metro entirely, we'd only face enemies head-on and from the rear. But you insisted on traveling above ground, deliberately exposing our movements, didn't you?"
"What nonsense are you spewing?"
Kurt, another patrol member, snapped angrily:
"If we didn't go above ground, could you eat railway tracks and drink engine oil to survive? We started with over fifty people. Did you think that meager amount of food could sustain everyone?"
"Going hungry for two days wouldn't kill anyone. If we'd stayed underground, the losses wouldn't have been so severe."
"Easy for you to say. Do you know how draining combat is? As a privileged heir, untouched by hardship, you can't fight yet feel entitled to criticize from the backlines!"
"Stop fighting!" Silya groaned, her head aching. "We're already in this state, and now you want to quarrel?"
Kurt, feeling wronged, immediately pointed at Jam II:
"He's the one causing trouble, questioning our plans based on conjecture."
"First of all, your plan was far from foolproof, and because of it, we suffered immense casualties. We lost critical combat power."
Hearing this, Kurt's emotions snapped. He stepped forward, raising his fist to strike:
"Do you know how many people died saving your sorry—"
"Kurt!" Silya quickly intervened. "He's a foreigner. You can't do that!"
"I agree with Prince Jam's reasoning." Maria hesitated briefly before siding with Jam II.
"Oh, my ancestors are my witness. I never begged anyone to save me. It's your responsibility as hosts," Jam II remarked coldly.
"Second, this isn't just my perspective."
He naturally shifted his gaze to Lucite and Hobbs.
"You two," Silya's eyes narrowed.
Foreign royals were untouchable, but a scorned commoner and a Tanasian student lacking connections daring to speak up?
Silya glanced at Mordot, their leader.
Mordot remained silent, his expression grim. After all he'd sacrificed, being doubted cut deep.
Ungrateful ingrates…
Silya's sharp gaze fixed on the pair.
"I didn't say anything," Hobbs surrendered immediately.
Silya wasn't letting him off. She approached, scrutinizing him.
"Hey, Hobbs, right?"
Hobbs grinned:
"Haha, who's Hobbs? I don't know him—"
Bang!
Cyria grabbed his collar and yanked him up.
"Hobbs! Hey, what are you doing—"
"Shut up!" Cyria didn't even glance at Lucite, her eyes locking onto Hobbs like a venomous snake: "You seem to have a problem with Captain Mordot's decisions?"
"Cough, cough—I, I didn't say that…"
Hobbs' face turned blue and purple as Cyria's magic-induced electric shocks made his muscles spasm. His teeth chattered as he stammered his response.
"The team's orders all come from Captain Mordot. If you question the group, you're questioning Captain Mordot. If you're against him, you're messing with me, Cyria! Got it?!"
"I…I was clear. I only suggested that leaked intelligence might be why the ambushes were so precise…"
"Oh, really?" Cyria said coldly. "You're implying someone among us leaked the information?"
"Exactly—" Before Hobbs could finish, a shadow fell across his face.
Bang!
In an instant, Hobbs' body slammed into the wall. His face contorted in fiery pain as snot, tears, and blood poured out.
"Hobbs!"
Lucite shouted in anger, glaring at Cyria:
"Hey, what's the meaning of this? A member of the patrol squad assaulting a student?"
"This isn't an assault under the patrol squad's name," Cyria said indifferently. "It's under my name, Cyria. No one can insult Captain Mordot's honor."
"This is—you're being unreasonable!"
"Hey, you on the ground!" Cyria ignored Lucite entirely. "Get up and apologize to Captain Mordot, or I'll beat the apology out of you."
"Don't you think you're overdoing it?"
Lucite said in a low voice:
"The school gave you weapons, equipment, and authority to protect students, not bully them."
Before he could finish, a bolt-action magic rifle was pointed squarely at his chest.
"Did you forget? The school—it can't control us anymore."
Cyria glanced at Lucite, her finger lightly resting on the trigger:
"Times have changed. Whoever has the bigger fist is right. What? You disagree?"
Lucite froze, noticing Hobbs mouthing words to him:
'Lucite. Forbidden. Book…'
Lucite nodded, stepping back from Cyria. He slipped into the shadows, reaching into his backpack. After fumbling for a moment, he pulled out the forbidden book.
"The Notes on Cursed Sorcery by Sulelda"
In magical civilizations, books are more than information carriers—they're also weapons. Skilled mages can channel the power of written spells, rearranging them to cast magic. The power depends entirely on the book's quality and the grade of the spells recorded.
While demanding, it wasn't a problem for a top student like Lucite.
Hobbs curled up on the ground, groaning in pain. Cyria slowly approached him, raising her foot to kick him over.
Bang!
"Get up and kneel to Captain Mordot," Cyria demanded, raising her rifle. "Or else—"
Clang, clang.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. Dust fell, and cracks spread across the walls, seeping water.
Bang!
Pipes burst, spraying water everywhere. Within moments, water surged from all directions.
"What's happening? An earthquake?!"
"Run! This place is going to collapse!"
The sudden tremors immediately shifted everyone's focus. Abandoning the reprimand, Cyria and the others hurriedly raced down the air-raid shelter corridors.
"Hobbs! Move!" Lucite hauled his friend up, slinging him onto his back before sprinting forward.
Rumble…
The earth trembled violently. Even the air-raid shelter was no match for such natural power. It rapidly disintegrated and collapsed. Underground water flooded the area, quickly rising to waist level. They had to carefully navigate dimensional barriers, unable to move too quickly, frequently dodging falling debris.
After running for over ten minutes, Cyria kicked open a hydraulic door. The group spilled out, moonlight bathing their soaked bodies. They had finally escaped being buried alive underground.
"Huff…huff…"
Cyria knelt on one knee, swearing as she removed her heavy, waterlogged armor, revealing a striking figure. But no one had the mood to notice, fresh from escaping death.
She wiped blood from her mouth. Just moments ago, tons of concrete had collapsed. Luckily, her armor absorbed most of the damage, leaving her with only bruised and battered lungs.
"Damn it…how did this happen?"
The earthquake had come out of nowhere, with extraordinary magnitude, at least an 8.7 on the Richter scale.
She glanced around—Kurt was nowhere to be seen.
Too convenient.
It was as if the earthquake had been orchestrated to rescue Hobbs specifically.
She steadied herself, turning toward Hobbs, who lay on the ground like a dying dog.
"What do you want? What are you going to do now?!"
Lucite stepped forward, blocking her path, speaking without hesitation.
Cyria shoved him aside, saying coldly:
"The earthquake was too convenient. It had to be triggered to save him. I suspect you're hiding a forbidden magic book. Let me check."
Lucite was stunned:
"That reasoning is absurd! You think it's true just because you said it? Why not claim that Night Butterfly and the Tanas tribe share a common ancestor?"
"Shut up! Get out of my way!"
"Don't touch my friend."
"Go to hell!"
Cyria swung her rifle butt, aiming for Lucite's torso.
Clang!
Lucite didn't budge, firmly taking the blow to his chest. Instead, Cyria's armored hand recoiled in pain, her palm stinging from the impact.
"You—" Cyria looked up, furious, only to see Lucite standing firm, his face dark.
"I said."
Lucite's body began to swell, spikes erupting from his back, growing long and sharp. His height increased dramatically, his outer armor thickening. Bone plates extended from his cheeks, forming a skeletal mask that gave him a menacing, eerie appearance.
Without her magical power suit, Cyria, holding only a rifle, looked like a child wielding a toothpick against a fortress.
"Don't touch my friend."
Lucite's deep growl carried subsonic waves, resonating in their hearts, leaving them unnerved.
Cyria squinted, watching flesh tear and spikes grow. The splattered gore whipped by the wind struck her face. She casually brushed it off, her expression one of disgust.
"You disgusting scavenger…"
Click.
She lowered her rifle, pulling the bolt back with gravity, then aimed it at Lucite:
"Almost forgot. You also questioned Mordot. Since that's the case, I'll have to teach both of you a lesson—"
Her face twisted in anger as she pulled the trigger.
Bang!
A defensive rune glowed behind Cyria's head before being pierced by a compressed blood bullet. The force flipped her body, slamming her head at Lucite's feet.
"Uh…uhh…"
Cyria's body twitched, blood flowing as she weakly turned her head toward the shooter:
"Wh-why is it…this can't be—"
Gurgle, gurgle!
Her flesh squirmed violently as blood rained down, turning her body into a sieve. Her corpse stilled, dissolving into a sad heap of bones under the corrosive effects of symbiotic blood.
Shhhh…
A gust of wind swept across the land, pushing her skull toward Jam II's feet. His throat bobbed as fear flashed in his eyes, but he forced an awkward smile, feigning calmness as he looked ahead:
"Ahaha, haha…I knew it all along. You've been hiding things."
"First, you lingered in the school, gathering magical tomes for personal gain."
"Then you deliberately took the surface route, using the Colonial Troopers to deplete our forces."
"And now, you've killed Cyria, leaving us defenseless. What's next?"
"Am I right?"
Feigning composure, he turned to the man whose arm had become a symbiotic weapon:
"Captain Mordot."
"Three years ago, wasn't it an insider's betrayal that let the remnants invade White Candle Interstellar University? And wasn't it odd that only you survived unscathed?"
"You're their agent, aren't you?"
"All of this wasn't just to eliminate witnesses. You have plans for me and Maria, don't you?"
Mordot Husserl raised his head, his expression one of amused curiosity, as if inviting Jam II to continue.
Lucite took a few steps back, shielding Hobbs, his eyes cold as he watched Mordot. His peripheral vision caught Maria Genyin's serene expression, as if she had anticipated everything.
Lucite stepped back a few steps, shielding Hobbs with his body, and coldly scrutinized Mordot ahead. His peripheral vision swept across the surroundings and noticed the woman—Maria Xuan'yin—whose expression was exceptionally calm, as if she had anticipated everything.
"Maria and I are among the most prestigious foreign exchange students at this school. Even someone like Remaining Moon wouldn't dare offend the national powers backing us."
James II spoke cheerfully:
"But we didn't expect you to also be a Colonized Trooper… Though that's not surprising. Omega Energy users of the [Domination] type are always adept at blending in around others. Let me guess—your purpose is to capture Maria and me as hostages, demand ransom, or achieve some kind of political leverage?"
He cast a meaningful glance at Lucite and Hobbs:
"In that case, next you'll target these two commoners."
"I'm very clear about your intentions. No problem, I'll absolutely cooperate. I've already discussed it with Maria. No matter what you or your master want, we're willing to comply to meet your demands. As long as you treat us kindly, the nations behind us won't leave you unrewarded."
"Am I correct in my analysis, Captain Mordot? Or should I say, an elite operative of Remaining Moon?"
Clap, clap, clap.
Mordot clapped his hands, seemingly in agreement.
"It seems you've got it right."
"Not entirely, Your Highness."
Mordot chuckled as he spoke:
"In fact, you made just one mistake."
James II frowned, but seeing that Mordot didn't deny his analysis, he relaxed slightly:
"May I ask, Mr. Mordot, which part of my analysis was incorrect?"
"Just one thing: do you know why Cyria was so obsessed with me?"
Mordot smiled lightly:
"I am not a subordinate of Remaining Moon."
His body began to collapse and ripple rapidly. His previously unremarkable features transformed into a stunning, refined handsomeness. Mordot's body became like a marble sculpture, every inch achieving golden proportions, exuding an irresistible allure that drove anyone who looked at him mad with obsession.
His pale short hair fluttered in the breeze, and Mordot's black-and-red eyes narrowed slightly. The magical armor he wore fell off instantly, leaving him in only a pair of trousers. Crossing his arms, he revealed beautifully sculpted muscles. On his back, a cerulean tattoo began to flow and shift.
His aura instantly surged to Zeta-tier. His energy burned as hot and radiant as the sun, making him appear like a divine being on Earth, one that people couldn't help but bow down to in reverence and plea for mercy.
"Out of courtesy, let me introduce myself: my name is Mordotkertel Husseil."
"In my homeland, this name means 'psychologist.' Oh, unfortunately, I never quite enjoyed studying."
"You may call me by my nickname—Remaining Moon."