Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

"And Alfred?" Cassius asked again. "Did you fail to bring him back? Did you kill him?"

Olaf remained silent for a longer time. Then he looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

"He is indeed dead..."

Cassius breathed a sigh of relief: "Well, it's not too bad."

"But he came back to life."

Cassius: "?"

"Can the dead come back to life? Is the church involved?"

"No, not the church, it's that mage..." Olaf's voice was muffled.

"He actually knows how to resurrect."

Cassius opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

"A mage can resurrect? Isn't that something only priests and paladins can do? Why would a mage know resurrection?! Are you crazy?!"

"A part-time druid? Or a mechanic..." Cassius murmured.

"It's pointless to think about these things now," Olaf said, his gaze intense.

"We can't stay here any longer; we can't afford to lose these tens of thousands of troops."

"Order the entire army to break camp, burn all equipment and supplies! Set off before dawn!"

He took a deep breath and continued.

"Run fast, but don't rush. Retreat in stages, with the vanguard becoming the rearguard, and leave traps every ten miles. If they chase, let them step on a few nails."

Cassius nodded and turned to relay the order.

Olaf returned to his tent alone, staring at the city of Rild on the map, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked.

"The mage of the trenches..."

He muttered a curse under his breath.

By daybreak, the Sassanid camp was empty.

Alfred stood on the city wall, looking at the empty camp in the distance.

"They're quick on their way." He turned to Graham and said, "Send the order down to assemble the entire army. Twenty thousand men will travel light, carrying only dry rations; the rest will be sent later."

Graham hesitated for a moment: "Your Highness, should we just chase after them like this? What if it's a trap?"

"That's why I only brought 20,000 people."

Alfred patted him on the shoulder, "The main force is moving slowly behind, we'll follow slowly ahead, don't push too hard."

"Don't actually catch up, lest he fight to the death. We'll close the net when Alicia arrives."

Graham thought about it and agreed.

The Exemplary class is the backbone of the army. With eight of Sassan's men killed in one go, the remaining few were simply no match for them.

No matter how strong Olaf is, he can't withstand being ganged up on by a group of people.

But even a cornered dog will jump over a wall; a desperate Hero-class warrior can certainly take a few Exemplary-class warriors down with him.

……

the next day.

Lance flew at high altitude for about half an hour before spotting the tail of the Sassanid army.

Thirty thousand people formed a long line and walked south along the main road, the line stretching for several miles.

The people at the front have already climbed over the hill in front of them, while the people at the back are still slowly making their way over.

Morale was visibly low—the flags drooped, the soldiers hung their heads, their steps were slow, and occasionally someone would glance back at the north before quickly turning back.

Lance flew through the clouds for a while, then suddenly saw something moving in the woods by the roadside.

He lowered his altitude and squinted to look over. Several horses were parked at the edge of the woods, unattended and grazing on trees.

Further in, a figure crouched behind the bushes, peeking furtively out.

Lance lowered it a little more.

The man was dressed in drab, gray traveler's clothes, with a hood on his head, but the hood didn't cover him completely, revealing a strand of golden hair.

She held a short sword in her hand, the scabbard engraved with some kind of pattern that reflected the morning light.

Lance squinted; the pattern was a black eagle with outstretched wings.

I heard from Graham that it was the emblem of the Sassanid royal family.

He took a closer look at the information panel above the man's head.

[Target: Elena Sassan]

Race: Human

[Class: Warrior]

[Level: 3]

Sassan? That's a royal surname.

Even the royal family is here...

But why is there only one person? No guards?

He circled the area at high altitude to make sure there were no ambushes nearby.

He slowly descended and landed on the treetop behind the man.

Elena, who had sneaked out once again, was lying behind a bush, craning her neck to look at the army in the distance.

"What's going on...?"

She muttered under her breath, "Weren't they saying there was going to be a war? They're going back already? How boring..."

She lay prone behind the bushes, completely unaware that there was someone else in the tree behind her.

Lance jumped down from the tree, landing with a sound as soft as a cat's.

He walked up behind her, looked down at the blonde girl who was lying face down in the bushes with her butt sticking out, and patted her on the shoulder.

"Hey."

Elena froze and turned around abruptly.

A face loomed close to hers, with silver-white hair, sky-blue eyes, and pointed ears, so exquisitely detailed it seemed unreal.

She froze for three seconds, her mind went blank, and only one thought was frantically scrolling through her screen.

Wow! It's that really handsome mage!

She had seen it from afar on a high slope outside the city before, and that one glance had stayed with her for days.

Now that his face is right in front of her, he looks much better than he does from afar.

Lance looked her up and down. Golden hair, blue eyes, fair skin—she was quite attractive.

Lance reached out and took off her hood, and her long golden hair cascaded down, shining brightly in the morning light.

Elena instinctively shrank back, her back hitting the bushes and wincing in pain, but her eyes remained fixed on Lance's face.

"You, you—" she stammered, "You're that sorcerer!"

Lance didn't say anything.

"Your name is Lance! Right? I've heard about you at the camp! They say you're amazing, you killed so many of us all by yourself!"

"you……"

Lance interrupted her: "If you want to ask me my name, then forget it."

Elena: "Hmm?"

"Fine, I won't say. Actually, I didn't really want to know anyway, honestly..."

"That sounds familiar... Before I get angry, you'd better come with me."

"W-What do you want to do!"

Finally, Elena realized something was wrong.

"I am the princess of the Sassanid Kingdom! If you dare to harm me, I will never forgive you!"

"I forgive you, Mana!"

Are you alright?

Lance, whose memories of his past life were triggered, slapped Elena so hard that she flew through the air.

She was spun 360 degrees and sent flying, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"You...you actually dared to hit me!"

"My brother is the king!"

"Heh," Lance sneered, "King? How many kings does he have..."

"Hey, isn't Olaf the most skilled professional player in your country?"

"Not only Olaf, but also a level 13 Mage James!"

"If you don't apologize to me, I'll make him..."

Lance slapped him again. "Then you'll call yourself Mana!"

"So arrogant! I thought your Sassanid royal family had some kind of legendary divine position!"

Elena fell asleep as soon as she landed.