Dark Sorcerer
Meanwhile, the atmosphere was quite different in the Sauron camp at the foot of the mountain.
In Commander Hermod's central command tent, a peculiar and unsettling guest arrived.
The newcomer wore a deep purple robe embroidered with eerie runes, with the hood pulled low, obscuring most of his face except for a sharp chin and bloodless thin lips.
He exuded a scent that was a mixture of herbs and a certain stench of decay, sending a chill down one's spine.
"Honorable Sorcerer Thor," Hermod tried to sound respectful, though he didn't have much affection for spellcasters who dealt with dark forces, and even felt some apprehension, "Corps Commander Ulf has given us new orders."
The mage known as Thor slightly raised his head, and from beneath the shadow of his hood, a pair of emotionless gray eyes swept over Hermod. His voice was hoarse and flat. "Oh? What are your instructions, Corps Commander?"
Hermod cleared his throat and said, "The Corps Commander has ordered us to find a way to breach the outer walls of Carnford as soon as possible!"
"At the very least, we must drive these Goldspur back to the stone castle on the mountain. That way, we can leave only a small force to guard the way down the mountain and complete the blockade of Carnford. Our main force can then be redeployed as soon as possible. The Corps Commander... will be given another important task."
Thor's grey eyes seemed to shift slightly, awaiting what he would say next.
Hermod licked his slightly dry lips and finally revealed the crucial reason. "Urgent military intelligence has just arrived from the front lines. The main force of the Wolf Corps on the western route has successfully broken through the Blackstone Pass! And much more smoothly than expected! Now, the gate to the heart of the Broomflower Lands is wide open!"
His tone was a mixture of shock and a hint of greedy excitement. "The Corps Commander judged this to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! The fact that Blackstone Pass was breached so easily means that Broomflower has no soldiers left to fight, and a huge gap has appeared in the royal defense line. This is the best time for us to follow them into the pass and plunder their wealth and slaves!"
"We can't just stand by and watch the Wolf Corps and the Bear Corps devour all the spoils! We must get rid of Carnford, this stumbling block, as soon as possible, and then march south to get a share!"
Thor was silent for a moment, then a hoarse voice came from under his hood. "So, time is of the essence, a full-scale attack?"
Hermod nodded heavily, a ruthless glint in his eyes. "That's right! We can't continue with the slow, drawn-out siege like before! The Corps Commander has ordered us to preserve our strength while breaking through the enemy lines as quickly as possible."
He paused, then looked sharply at the mage. "The Corps Commander specifically emphasized that he hopes you... can demonstrate your promised capabilities as soon as possible to help us achieve this goal."
The Sorcerer Thor let out a low, owl-like chuckle, "Heh... the Corps Commander is certainly impatient. I certainly have the ability, but Commander Hermod, magic... especially powerful magic capable of turning the tide of battle, is never free; it requires... a price."
"The price?" Hermod frowned. "What price? Food? Gold? Or magical materials? Anything within the reach of my military..."
"No," the Sorcerer Thor slowly shook his head, interrupting him, his voice cold and clear, "It is life, vibrant life force, and... the pain and fear of death, that is the most direct and effective... fuel."
Hermod's expression changed slightly.
The Sorcerer Thor seemed to see through his hesitation and added hoarsely, "What? Commander, you lead thousands of troops and have killed countless people on the battlefield. Would you begrudge a few lowly lives? For victory, for the glory of the tribe, this sacrifice... is insignificant."
Hermod remained silent for a moment, his eyes flickering.
Finally, he gritted his teeth and shouted to the guards outside the tent, "Go! Bring a few Broomflower slaves here!"
Soon, five Broomflower prisoners of war, bound by ropes, ragged, and emaciated, were roughly shoved into the main tent.
Their faces were filled with fear and confusion, not knowing what awaited them.
Sorcerer Thor saw them, a barely perceptible glint of satisfaction flashed in his gray eyes.
He stood up and carefully took out an item from a dark wooden box he was carrying.
It was an ancient and sinister-looking artifact.
The main body is a bowl-shaped object carved from the skull of some unknown creature, with dark obsidian and twisted metallic runes inlaid around the edge.
Below the skull bowl, three sharp claws resembling those of birds or reptiles are attached, firmly gripping a crystal ball inside which a dark red liquid flows.
The entire device exuded an extremely unsettling, cold, and greedy aura.
"Hold them down," the Sorcerer Thor commanded coldly.
Although the guards were terrified, they still obeyed and pinned the five slaves to the ground.
The Sorcerer Thor began chanting obscure and distorted incantations.
He extended his withered fingers, the tips of which gleamed with an ominous, eerie green light, and touched the foreheads of the struggling and crying slaves one by one.
As he touched them, the slaves' bodies convulsed violently, their eyes widened suddenly, their pupils dilated, and they emitted extremely painful groans!
It was as if their vitality and souls were being forcibly ripped away!
Pale white, misty energy, mixed with wisps of dark red resentment, was forcibly pulled from their seven orifices and, as if drawn by an attraction, continuously poured into the skull bowl.
The dark red liquid inside the bowl began to boil violently, and the crystal ball below suddenly spun faster, emitting an increasingly dazzling and chilling crimson light!
The five slaves withered and died at an alarming rate, eventually turning into five twisted, grotesque, and lifeless mummies!
The entire process was cruel and bizarre; even Hermod, a veteran of many battles and accustomed to death, felt a wave of nausea and chills and instinctively looked away.
The Sorcerer Thor seemed to have accomplished a trivial task, and he looked with satisfaction at the evil artifact that shone brightly and was brimming with energy.
He raised the ritual implement with both hands, holding it high above his head, and his final incantation became high-pitched and sharp!
Buzz!
An invisible yet terrifying dark wave, capable of instilling instinctive fear in all living beings, spread out like ripples from the center of the magical artifact, sweeping across the entire camp and rapidly extending towards the distant mountains and wilderness!
Having done all this, the Sorcerer Thor slowly put down his ritual implements, a cruel smile seemingly curling at the corner of his mouth beneath his hood.
He said to Hermod, whose face was somewhat pale, "Alright, Commander, the bait has been scattered, and the hounds have been awakened and guided."
"By sunset tomorrow at the latest, you will see a fearless, death-defying, and ever-flowing army pouring out of the mountains and wilderness to tear down Carnford's ridiculous outer walls for you."
He paused, his voice tinged with weariness yet brimming with confidence. "Have your soldiers prepare, but not for an attack. They should prepare... to go in and collect the corpses of the Goldspur after those magical constructs have torn apart all resistance."
Hermod suppressed his discomfort and nodded heavily, a ruthless glint in his eyes. "I understand. Order the entire army! Be on high alert tomorrow, prepare... for the harvest!"