I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 388 The Madman
The cold rain seeped into the cracks in the rocks, gathering into a small stream beneath the jagged cliffs, and eventually dripping into the entrance of a narrow cave that was almost completely covered by vines.

Inside the cave, the air was damp and heavy, mixed with the smell of moss, decaying leaves, and a faint musty odor emanating from a piece of leather armor that hadn't been washed in a long time.

Colonel Silas Mordred of the Kingdom of Minicia, King Charles's most loyal hound, lay motionless in the shadows like a stubborn rock that blends into the mountainside.

His deep-set eyes, even in the dim light, gleamed with a sharp, hawk-like light as he stared intently through the gaps in the sparse vines at the retreating "friendly" troops winding their way through the valley below.

The magnificent iris banner, representing a certain nobleman, drooped listlessly in the rain. The soldiers walked slowly, their helmets askew, and their complaints could be faintly heard even through the rain.

"Another idiot gave up."

Colonel Mordred's voice was deep and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against rock, carrying undisguised contempt.

Behind him, the remaining hundred or so royal guards were scattered silently throughout the cave like ghosts. They were in much better condition than the soldiers who had retreated outside. Although they were equally tired and dirty, there was no slack in their eyes, only a numb vigilance honed by long-term hunting.

An adjutant belonging to the royal hundred-man squad leaned closer, his voice extremely low.

"Colonel, this is the last batch of friendly troops."

After news of the destruction of the White Rock City granary arrived, Bagnia's army is currently making large-scale advances in the north and northeast, while the southern front is in dire need of attention.

All the noble private soldiers and most of the local troops assisting in the search were urgently transferred to fill in the gaps. Those adults… they all believed that the remnants of the Tia family either had long since died in some unknown ravine, or had slipped through the blockade like rats and escaped to Bagnia.

Colonel Mordred's lips twitched slightly, but it was not a smile; it was more like a silent warning before a wild beast bares its fangs.

"Escape to Bagnia?"

He repeated coldly, his gaze still fixed on the team below, which was gradually disappearing into the rain and mist.

"Those bastards made such a big commotion, attacking White Rock City and sending their legions north to attack, wasn't it all to support them? If their people have really already gone there, why would the enemy bother with all this effort?"

Mordred slowly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes sweeping over his adjutant and the soldiers in the cave, his gaze carrying a heavy, suffocating madness.

"His Majesty's target is definitely still here, in these damned, soaking wet mountains!"

His voice suddenly rose for a moment, then he forcefully suppressed it back into a low tone.

“His Majesty Charles doesn’t want ‘possibility’ or ‘probability.’ He wants the mission accomplished. He needs us to capture the remnants of the Tia family and obtain leverage to control the Kingdom of Bagnia. This is the sole reason we were sent here!”

The adjutant lowered his head, not daring to look directly into those eyes that burned with an almost obsessive flame.

No one knew better than them how fanatical and unquestionable the colonel's loyalty to King Charles was.

The king's commands are his breath, his heartbeat, and the entirety of his soul.

For this reason, Colonel Mordred could lurk in the mud like the most despicable hyena, gnawing on carrion and enduring endless pain and humiliation.

"But Colonel, supplies..."

Another soldier spoke cautiously.

"The last bit of dry food we brought was distributed yesterday."

The rain keeps falling, making it difficult to start a fire, and the berries and roots we can find nearby are dwindling... Plus, those damned 'mountain tigers' are still lurking in the mountains; we lost two more men yesterday.”

Hunger, like the hand of death, gripped everyone's stomach, causing it to convulse constantly. The damp environment inside the cave made their clothes cling to their skin, bringing unbearable heat and itching. This allowed diseases, especially colds and fevers, to begin to spread quietly among the group, and low coughs could be heard from time to time inside the cave.

Even more fatally, they lost the cover and intelligence network of their "friendly forces," leaving them completely exposed to the dual threats of the complex and treacherous mountains and forests and the well-equipped player guerrillas who were equally familiar with the terrain.

Colonel Mordred remained silent, and the others dared not speak, leaving only the sound of raindrops pattering on the rocks and suppressed breathing in the cave.

The colonel's rough fingers unconsciously rubbed the cold hilt of the dagger at his waist, engraved with the royal crest bestowed by King Charles himself.

Hunger? Cold?

He finally spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion, only a cruel calm.

"What are these compared to His Majesty's disappointment at the escape of the remnants of the Tia family?"
What is this little bit of suffering compared to letting the Bagnians have their way and using the Thia family's wealth to strengthen their nation?

He suddenly stood up, his tall figure casting a huge shadow in the low cave, increasing the sense of oppression.

"Tell everyone that we are His Majesty the King's last chain, the last hand gripping the throat of the Tia family. As long as we have a breath left, we should be nailed to this mountain!"

He walked to the cave entrance, pushed aside the wet vines, and let the cold rain hit his stubble-covered, angular face. His gaze pierced through the misty rain and fell on the distant, layered mountains covered in lush greenery.

There, it seemed, lurked both invisible prey and deadly hunters.

"It's good that those noble lords have left."

Colonel Mordred muttered to himself, more like speaking to himself.

“They only disturb the prey and get in the way. Now, this mountain is completely clean. Only us and those hiding rats remain…”

He took a deep breath of the cold, earthy air, his eyes gleaming with an almost morbid hunter's excitement.

"Did the Bagnians think their feint attack would lure everyone away? Did they think they could take people away without anyone noticing?"
dream! "

He turned abruptly to his remaining subordinates inside the cave, his voice resolute.

"Pass down the order: starting today, the reconnaissance team will split into smaller groups of three, and, using this place as the center, infiltrate the deepest, most dangerous, and least likely places to hide people!"
Move like a shadow, lie in wait like a venomous snake, keeping a close watch on every possible water source and every hidden crevice in the rocks!

The key is to look for signs of recent human activity, even a spark or a fresh footprint. The people of Bagnia will definitely come to pick up the mission target and help them leave. At that time, that will be our opportunity!
The Tia family is still in the mountains!

I can feel it!
They huddled in a corner, trembling like wounded rabbits, waiting for their savior…

Colonel Mordred's face revealed a sinister and confident smile.

"And we are the final abyss waiting on the road to salvation!"

Rainwater streamed down his forehead, gliding over the menacing old scar that stretched from his brow bone to his cheekbone, and mingled with his cold gaze.

In this perilous mountain region forgotten by the army, King Charles's most loyal and dangerous hound, with his hungry, weary yet still deadly fangs, began his final, desperate infiltration.

Mordred firmly believed that the prey was still there, and the hunt was far from over.

(End of this chapter)