Her Majestic Battle Cry

Rafael’s dinner had improved tonight. Dylan had caught a few small fish, grilling them until they were charred black on the outside. By the time they were finished, Rafael’s mouth was full of the unpleasant combination of fishy and smoky flavors.

However, the improvement was relative. At least the meal wasn’t nauseating—it was simply revolting.

Tonight, it was clear that more people had gathered in the deep cave. Black–clad figures, their faces concealed, were making their way up the mountain. It seemed they were about to make a

move.

Rafael finished the grilled fish and swiftly climbed a nearby tree, his eyes scanning the area

below.

Dylan had already crawled close to the deep cave, near enough to hear everything. It was a place they’d been watching for quite some time. This was where the men would relieve themselves, and the stench was overwhelming enough to make one gag.

But this was also the ideal spot for an ambush. Most of the time, only two or three men would come here at once. A sudden ambush would be enough to grab them and drag them off to change clothes.

After crawling for nearly an hour, Dylan finally saw his chance. Two masked men in black appeared, heading toward the same spot. Without hesitation, Dylan moved in, striking swiftly and silently. Within moments, both men were incapacitated.

He quickly lifted one over his shoulder, then the other, and hurried back up the mountain to the small cave.

Rafael dropped from the tree just as Dylan returned. Together, they stripped the men of their clothes, swapping their outfits for the black garb. Then, they freed the men’s pressure points. Before they could cry out, they each grabbed a throat, cutting off their shouts with a sharp slap. The men slumped down to the ground. noveldrama

Rafael donned the black attire with a quiet sense of satisfaction. It was warm enough, and the man’s body was slightly heavier than his, so the clothes fit well enough over his own.

Dylan flashed a knife in front of the men’s faces, and the sight alone was enough to make them speak. They revealed that they were indeed headed to collect grain. Their role was to assist with the transport, an operation that occurred once every three months. The village didn’t produce enough to feed itself, so they had to rely on outside supplies.

When asked why they wore black clothing and masks, they explained that it was a precaution to keep their identities hidden. They were told by their higher–ups that it was essential to maintain an air of mystery.

When questioned further about who they served, the men didn’t know. They explained that

they had come to the mountains when there was no food to be had. Their work involved carrying grain and doing the heavy labor of farming. But unlike the villagers, they were only allowed to stay by the mountain’s edge and were forbidden from approaching the village itself.

When asked if they had weapons or anything like that, they said they did–stored in another cave. This cave only held a small amount, but they couldn’t go near the other one unless they were called to move the weapons. After moving them, they had to leave right away.

It seemed the soldiers here were divided into distinct ranks. The men who did the laborious work of transporting and farming had no privilege of approaching the important figures within the village.

Dylan tied them up with vines, securing their hands and gagging their mouths.

“Once this is all over,” he said quietly, “someone will come to rescue you. Stay still and keep close to one another to stay warm.”

Rafael and Dylan blended in with the group sent to collect the grain. No one questioned their presence. Dressed in identical black garments with their faces covered, they were

indistinguishable from the others. The leader of the group carried a whip, and strict silence was expected of them.

The black outfits reeked of mold and decay. It was clear they only wore them when going to pick up supplies.

Rafael wrinkled his nose at the stench, though he had no right to complain. After all, he had spent countless days climbing the mountain, drenched in sweat, his clothes soaked through and then dried with the accumulation of days. The smell now was nothing compared to the heavy scent of his work–worn garments from earlier days.

Now, Rafael was free to move about the deep cave without suspicion. The space was vast, divided into several storage rooms. The grain had once been stored in three separate sections, but now only one remained, and it was not much to speak of.

The team collecting the grain numbered around a hundred people, and from the looks of it, they had quite a large amount to move. But Rafael, a seasoned commander of men, was irritated by the lack of discipline. The workers lacked proper posture, their backs slouched, and they did not stand with the firm bearing he expected of soldiers.

This, in turn, confirmed what the two men had said earlier–they were not truly private soldiers. They were just laborers hired to do the hard work, brought in from outside the village.

The real private soldiers, however, were the leader and his men. The hardness in the leader’s eyes was unmistakable, and the others avoided him, keeping their distance in fear.

The entrance to the secret passageway was located within this very cave. When a torch was lit, the stone gate slid open, revealing a narrow path wide enough for three to walk side by side.

Under the leader’s guidance, they entered the passage. The sound of their footsteps echoed

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loudly within the confined space, the noise amplifying in the narrow tunnel.