What Goes Around Comes Around

Morin's gaze turned colder. This had nothing to do with countries or allegiances anymore.

He simply wanted to kill these bastards who used their rank to prey on the weak.

Morin peered out from the stairwell. The three abducted girls seemed to have been taken into separate rooms.

Those depraved officers had not even closed the doors.

They might as well have written "Come kill me" across their faces.

At the top of the stairs, Morin quickly surveyed the second-floor corridor. In an instant, he had the layout clear in his mind.

In the rooms to either side, an officer was pinning a girl to a table or the floor, tearing at her clothes.

The room directly opposite the stairs was worse. Two officers were working together to drag a desperately struggling girl toward the bed.

Morin pulled back and swiftly gave his orders with a few simple hand signals.

He pointed to the rooms on either side, then indicated four soldiers. They would take the rooms in pairs.

Then he pointed to himself and Corporal Baumann, followed by the middle room.

Everyone nodded in understanding.

Morin drew a deep breath, his eyes sharpening. He raised three fingers, then lowered them one by one.

The instant the last finger came down, he slashed his hand downward!

Six figures sprang silently toward their targets like leopards.

In the middle room, the two Royal Army officers were too caught up in their excitement to notice death closing in.

By the time one sensed something behind him and instinctively turned, it was too late.

Morin appeared behind him like a ghost. His left hand shot out and clamped over the man's mouth and nose, smothering any sound.

At the same time, Morin pressed the cold edge of his bayonet against the officer's throat.

This "lucky" man needed to stay alive for now. Morin and the others had plenty of questions to "ask" him.

On the other side of the room, Corporal Baumann took a more direct approach.

He lunged, slammed the other officer to the floor, and pinned him there.

Before the man could react, Baumann drove his bayonet sideways through his throat.

The officer never even managed a scream. His body twitched a few times, then went still.

It was like watching a butcher slaughter a pig.

The fighting in the other two rooms ended just as quickly.

Outnumbered two to one, the officers acting alone had no chance to resist. Both were dealt with almost simultaneously.

The whole thing took less than ten seconds, like a silent play run at double speed.

Morin did not kill his captive immediately. Instead, he tapped the man's neck with the back of his bayonet, warning him to behave.

The three rescued girls huddled in corners, their clothes torn and their bodies trembling. Their eyes were full of fear and confusion.

Morin had two soldiers fetch blankets to cover them, then take them to an empty room nearby and help them calm down.

He and Corporal Baumann stayed behind to question the officer whose life they had spared for the moment.

What goes around comes around.

Two days ago, Morin had been the prisoner tied to a chair and interrogated.

Now he held another man's life in his hands.

The officer stared at his dead companion, then felt the cold steel against his own neck. He began to shake violently, and a dark stain spread across his trousers.

"I ask. You answer."

Morin spoke in fluent Aragonese, his voice cold.

"Try anything, or give me an answer I don't like, and I'll slit your throat. Understand?"

The officer nodded frantically, his eyes bright with relief at the chance to survive.

"Name, rank, and unit."

Morin's voice held no emotion. He looked at the officer as though the man were already dead.

"Juan... Juan de Rivera..."

The officer's voice was hoarse and trembling, thick with tears.

"Royal Army, 24th Infantry Division, 48th Brigade, 126th Regiment, 1st Battalion... lieutenant colonel, battalion commander."

Morin and Corporal Baumann exchanged surprised looks.

They had thought they were taking out a few ordinary officers. Instead, they had caught a big fish: a lieutenant colonel commanding a battalion.

Still, Morin had his doubts as he looked at the man shaking so badly he had wet himself, without a trace of a soldier's bearing.

"A lieutenant colonel? A battalion commander? You?"

Morin gave the man's cheek a measured pat with the flat of his bayonet and asked skeptically,

"You don't look the part..."

Juan flinched and rushed to answer.

"I bought it! Sir! I paid for the commission!"

"..."

"I was just a nobleman from the north. When I heard the Holy Britannian Empire's allies were coming to help, I thought the war would be over soon! So I... I paid to join the army and build a service record for the future..."

That explained Juan's behavior.

A schemer who had bought his way up the ranks was hardly going to show any backbone.

"Good. You're being honest."

Morin nodded, then continued. "Has the entire 24th Infantry Division moved into Seville?"

"Y-yes! The whole division is here, stationed in the city and at positions around it!"

"What's your mission in Seville?!"

Juan held nothing back. Everything he knew came spilling out.

"Our... our mission is to use the city for cover and work with our allies from the Holy Britannian Empire to stop your attack."

"What about the Britannians? Where are they?"

"They're... they're here too! Their men are in the city! Two or three thousand, I think. They said they're an elite unit called the Northumberland Fusiliers!"

At that, Juan seemed to remember something important. Desperate to stay alive, he added,

"Sir! Sir! The Britannians also brought more than a dozen robed mages this time!"

"Mages?" Morin's heart sank.

"Yes! I saw them when I visited division headquarters to speak with the senior officers. I think they're going to assign the mages to different units to help in the fighting!"

"Do you know the specific battle plan?"

"Sir, I'm only a lieutenant colonel commanding a battalion. How could I know the plans made by my superiors..."

The captured Royal Army lieutenant colonel looked miserable. Then he caught the gleam of the bayonet at his throat and hurried to add,

"All I know is that our superiors ordered us not to attack. We're supposed to defend Seville. I really don't know anything else..."

"All right. Thank you for cooperating."

Morin stepped in front of the officer, smiled, and patted him on the shoulder.

"You're welcome, sir. It was my honor to be of service..."

The Royal Army lieutenant colonel forced an ugly smile. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, he felt a sudden chill in his chest.

He looked down. A long, slender bayonet had pierced his heart.