Fully armed, Green stood guard in the center of the hall, carefully adjusting his posture and the way he held his weapon to make himself look like a new recruit.
This was not easy. Five years of military service had left indelible marks on him, and pretending to be a new recruit was awkward both psychologically and physically.
But his current job is disguise—due to his outstanding performance in the military, he was recently selected by SI:7 and has since become a spy working in the shadows.
Pretending to be tired of standing, Green shifted his stance and took the opportunity to steal a glance at his target not far away—the young man mixed in with the Dwarf mercenaries.
Originally, this mission had no specific objective; monitoring the prison during the riot was just a routine task for SI:7. However, shortly after he was transferred to the warden's command, he received new orders: to closely monitor the Dwarf mercenaries who had joined the force the day before, with the main target being the black-haired, black-eyed male human among them.
My initial impression of him was that, apart from his unusual hair color and pupils, he was a friendly and approachable young man who didn't seem like a criminal at all.
After careful observation, Green discovered that although the young man seemed somewhat lazy, the Dwarves implicitly regarded him as their leader, while the muscular Dwarf captain appeared to be merely a figurehead.
What is his true identity? What is his purpose? Green's curiosity was piqued, and for the first time, his new job didn't seem so boring anymore.
Unaware that he was being watched, Unas leaned weakly against the low wall made of sandbags. He had been experiencing the life of an ordinary guard for the past two days and found it incredibly boring.
During the day, he couldn't go anywhere and could only stay in the barracks to sleep. At night, while on duty in the lobby, he couldn't move around freely, not even chat. He could only stand there in a daze. This monotonous life between two points was extremely suffocating, and his patience was wearing thin.
Counting the days, I spent two days in Ironforge, one day on the subway, and three days in Stormwind City. It had been six days since I left Menethil Harbor. The refugee fleet could arrive at any time. I had arrived a few days early but had not gained anything substantial, which made me feel a little discouraged.
Thinking of this, he couldn't help but yawn, and was immediately glared at by the officer on duty tonight. Unas shrugged indifferently—that was the advantage of being a mercenary. As long as they didn't go too far, the officers would turn a blind eye to their violations of military regulations. If an ordinary Jailer dared to yawn while on duty, he would probably get a beating.
They drifted in and out of consciousness until midnight, when it was almost time for their shift. Even the officer on duty was dozing off in his chair. A snoring sound came from the quiet hall; someone was sleeping standing up.
Unas followed the sound, searching for the unfortunate fellow in the armored jungle—it was bad enough that he was sneaking a nap, but to actually snore like that was just asking for trouble; he was definitely in for a beating.
Just then, the door creaked open a crack, and a squad leader who was on duty outside strode in, his heavy footsteps startling everyone.
It was clearly an emergency. The officer on duty immediately stood up, and the squad leader, without even saluting, said urgently, "Lieutenant, there are flames in the west of the city! The port may be on fire!"
"All on alert!" the officer on duty immediately shouted to those around him, then led a few men to hurriedly climb up to the roof of the fortress.
A few red lights flickered in the direction of the western port, and a cacophony of noises drifted from all directions of the city, as the entire population began to notice the fire.
"The fire doesn't seem to have spread yet, sir. Should we send a team to help put it out?"
The lieutenant retorted, "Bullshit! We're already short-handed, how can we divide our forces? Go wake the Jailer; nobody's sleeping tonight!"
Boom!
A deafening, rumbling sound suddenly came from the harbor, and the crowd on the rooftop soon felt the stone bricks beneath their feet begin to tremble slightly.
"This is... artillery?"
"Did you see that flash on the sea? That's the muzzle flash of cannons! Warships are definitely attacking the port!"
The port of Stormwind City hadn't suffered a large-scale attack in many years. The lieutenant was shocked, but forced himself to remain calm, saying, "Two battalions of City Guards are stationed at the port, along with several Royal Fleet warships..."
"Look! The Old Barracks to the south is on fire too!"
Ignoring his annoyance at being interrupted by his subordinate, the lieutenant immediately turned around, and sure enough, there were also sparks of fire appearing in the Old Barracks south of the city.
The Old Barracks was the City Guard's garrison. If something went wrong there, the city guard's support for the port would definitely be affected. In this light, tonight's fire was definitely a premeditated act of war. An ominous premonition immediately weighed on the lieutenant's mind.
"Return to your posts, everyone. Tonight we have only one mission—to guard the prison!"
The Jailer Thelwater, with his disheveled hair, stood anxiously in the center of the hall, as soldiers frequently ran in from outside the doors and down the stairs to report on the situation.
Just minutes ago he was still half asleep in his bedroom, but now he was completely awakened by a series of bad news.
The booming sound of cannons kept coming from the southwest. Without the soldiers reporting it, he knew that the battle at the port was in full swing.
The fire at the Old Barracks was quickly extinguished, but there were reports of a mutiny among the soldiers, and the commotion continues. It also seems that there has been some trouble at Tempest Keep, where nobles gather to the north.
What on earth is wrong with this city?! Thelwater was distraught by the series of bad news. He subconsciously touched his chest, and the metal object hanging there was still there, which reassured him slightly.
Just then, another soldier rushed in from outside the gate with his head down. The Jailer, already irritated, didn't notice the ordinary-looking soldier and anxiously asked, "Any new information?"
The soldier leaned closer, feigning an attempt to hide something from outsiders. The Jailer, unsuspecting, obliged and leaned in to listen, only to hear, "This is terrible! Your death is nigh!"
A flash of silver light appeared in an instant. The Jailer, clutching his bleeding neck, staggered two steps. The soldier ripped something out of his chest with his left hand and flicked his right hand into the air. Five or six black spheres spun in all directions, instantly exploding into a cloud of black smoke that obscured everyone's vision.
The assassination happened so fast that no one had time to stop it, and the black fog left everyone completely helpless.
"Don't panic."
A deep voice came from above, followed by a gust of wind that swept through the entire hall. The spreading black mist was quickly bound into a black pillar of wind, and everyone's vision immediately cleared—the three mages stationed at the arrow platform had made their move, and the black pillar of wind was quickly expelled through the skylight by their combined efforts.
The Jailer lay in a pool of blood, while the assassin had already jumped into the tunnel and was fiddling with the steel lock on the iron door at the bottom—he had already opened one of the three bolts.
The dissipation of the black mist startled him, but giving up meant death, so he could only frantically frantically twist the key he had snatched from the Jailer's chest.
"Stop him!"
Forgetting to express their gratitude for the mage's timely magical support, the lieutenant on duty roared, and the guards, weapons in hand, leaped into the trench. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, the archers on the arrow platform unleashed the first volley of fire.
With a click, the second bolt was also opened, and the assassin's good luck came to an end. The cramped space left him no room to dodge or hide. Arrows, fired after him, struck his left shoulder and right leg respectively. The guards' weapons felled him to the ground in the blink of an eye, but they could not stop the assassin from letting out a few rhythmic screams before he died.
"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"
The lieutenant rushed forward, lunged at the steel lock, grabbed the key and turned it rapidly, trying to restore the two bolts to their original positions. But a tremendous force suddenly slammed into the door from the inside, causing the entire iron door to shake violently. The lieutenant's hand holding the key was violently thrown back by the force of the impact.
The only remaining steel bolt couldn't withstand the force and was knocked out of place and twisted, revealing a two-finger-wide gap in the door. Crazy roars and cheers poured out from the gap.
The lieutenant's face turned pale, but he did not retreat. He shouted to the soldiers around him, and together they thrust their weapons into the crack in the door, which resulted in several screams from inside.
Just as they were about to press on, a burst of intense heat suddenly erupted from the crack in the door, turning the lieutenant and seven or eight soldiers at the bottom of the pit into Fire Elemental!
The horrific scene was terrifying. Several guards screamed "Fetch water to put out the fire!" and ran out. In an instant, the soldiers in the hall scattered everywhere, and nearly half of them disappeared. Surely some had taken advantage of the chaos to escape, and it was unknown how many would return.
With the Jailer and the lieutenant on duty dying one after another, several second lieutenants at the platoon leader level were at a loss and unable to control the guards. For a time, the hall was leaderless and no one was in charge.
Boom! Another loud crash slammed into the iron gate, widening the gap to the width of a hand. Several fiercely courageous guards charged down into the tunnel, frantically stabbing the gap with their spears, only to be met with a massive burst of flames, turning them into Fire Elemental.
No one wanted to die needlessly anymore. With a loud "boom," another impact widened the gap in the door, and everyone at the edge of the tunnel felt a sense of retreat.
Green, however, was unfazed. The lieutenant and his soldiers' desperate Charge only fueled his fighting spirit. After all, he was just a newly recruited agent. He set aside his responsibilities for the secret mission, rushed forward, raised his gleaming Lionheart badge, and shouted:
"I am SI:7 Special Agent Green-Witch. Now, everyone listen to my orders—three mages, please use your magic to block the iron gate and buy as much time as possible! First team, immediately go out and guard the outer gate. All lieutenants, send men out to request reinforcements. I know it's chaotic outside, but we must not give up. We must find reinforcements! Second and third teams, everyone, form ranks according to the drill. We will definitely be able to suppress these criminals!"
The soldiers looked at each other in disbelief. The clumsy recruits had suddenly become agents of SI:7, which was hard to accept for a moment. Several lieutenants and mages ran over to verify the authenticity of the Lionheart badge before they hesitantly obeyed orders.
Green was very nervous. Although he had made many merits in the army, he was only a scout leader and had never commanded so many people before. He was slightly relieved when he saw the lieutenants start to move. He looked around and turned his attention back to his original target - the group of Dwarves.
"Captain Gude, lead your mercenary group into the fray! The iron gate is about to collapse; you must hold off the enemy's first assault!"