A Coward's Composure

Inside the defense hall, Hughes shoved the tactical board aside and rushed to the Echoing Platform. "Send a Short Code to Blackpine Central Command. White Fang Fief is facing an emergency. The underground threat isn't a single Grayblood Lesion. The Vein-Probing Awl has completely failed to locate its source. A new monster, the Grayblood Bone Pillar, can devour fortifications outright."

The Echoing Platform let out a piercing buzz, but the code had only transmitted halfway when high-frequency noise from underground cut it off.

The Runes on the Crystal Board flickered wildly. Blackpine Central Command's return signal broke into fragments, leaving only scattered flashes of light.

The encoder pressed both hands against the scorching Rune board, cold sweat dripping from his chin.

"Administrative Supervisor—the interference is unknown. Blackpine may have received nothing but garbled code."

Hughes stared at the defense map with bloodshot eyes. By his reckoning, White Fang Fief had no hope of victory. Only one thing remained: make their deaths yield useful intelligence.

He turned and ordered the entire hall, "Abandon every outer Defense Zone. Everyone who can still move, fall back into the Inner Fortress immediately.

"Choose the highest-ranking knights for a breakout squad. They'll carry the intelligence to Blackpine Fief."

Just then, the heavy wooden door swung open.

Old Lord Otto returned to the defense hall, supported by two personal guards.

His face was gray, and his sumptuous lord's robe was smeared with foul mud and dust. Without his cane to support him, his right hand could only clutch weakly at the hem.

Hughes had expected this old noble from Inland to demand that the Inner Fortress gates be sealed, or to ask why the commanders had failed to hold the city.

But Otto was quiet. He shook off his guards and walked unsteadily to the defense