Lord: I can see loyalty.

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Deep in the dark forest, the gray fortress stood silent like a beast in the twilight.

The patrol team, carrying torches, moved slowly along the perimeter of the camp. The firelight danced among the branches and leaves of the dense forest, casting the shadows of the patrolmen long and short.

Zane stood under an old oak tree at the edge of the camp, his one eye gleaming warily in the darkness.

He had just returned from Blackwater and hadn't even had a sip of water when William sent him out on patrol.

"These are critical times. The people of the North will not let this go easily. They have suffered a loss in Blackwater, and they will definitely make up for it elsewhere."

These were William's exact words, and Zane didn't refute them; he knew the commander was right.

There was a rustling sound coming from the bushes ahead.

Zane placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, narrowed his single eye, and stared in that direction.

The sound grew closer, and a group of figures emerged from the bushes. There were about four or five people, dressed in the uniforms of the Southern Militia, with longswords hanging at their waists, but their footsteps were much lighter than those of ordinary militiamen.

Zane frowned slightly. Militiamen wouldn't walk like that. Only knights who practice swordsmanship year-round could walk with such light and steady steps.

"Stop." He said, his voice not loud, but it made the group of people freeze at the same time.

The leader was a man in his early twenties, with a thin face, slightly sunken eyes, and an undeniable weariness on his face.

He was wearing a grey coat belonging to the Southern Militia, but it couldn't conceal the knight's lining on his chest.

"My lord." He bowed slightly, his voice calm, "We are militiamen who retreated from Blackwater City, and we have been ordered to come here to replenish our supplies."

Zane's one eye stared at him, his gaze sharp as a knife.

"Blackwater City? Which faction are you from? Who's your captain?"

A flicker of panic crossed the man's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. "We're the third team, led by Russell Burke. Do you know him?"

He was betting that Zane didn't know Russell. Although the Grey Hyena Mercenary Group and the Azure Peak Knights had fought side by side, they were not the same team, so it was normal that they didn't know each other.

Zain remained silent for a moment, but the wariness in his single eye did not diminish.

"Russell?" He repeated the name, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Of course I know him. That kid was drinking with me the other day—that scar on his left hand is from when he was whittling wood on his first day with the Knights."

"Does your captain have this scar on his left hand?" The man's expression finally changed, and his right hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword. His companions behind him also tensed up at the same time.

"Don't move." Zane's voice was as cold as ice. "This is the Southern Reach camp, surrounded by our men on all sides. If you dare to draw your swords, I guarantee you won't last three seconds."

The man looked at Zain with complex emotions in his eyes, and finally just slowly loosened his grip on the sword hilt.

"We were just passing by." His voice was a little hoarse. "We meant no harm."

"Just passing by?" Zane laughed, a laugh devoid of any warmth. "In the pitch black, you're dressed as militiamen, carrying swords, just passing by our camp? Do you think I'm stupid?"

The man fell silent.

Zain stared at him for a long time, then suddenly sighed and waved his hand.

"Alright, these are special times, and I'm too lazy to argue with you, but you have to follow the rules—go to the east side of the camp to register and write down your name and unit."

"I will personally verify this first thing tomorrow morning. If what you say is true, I will apologize to you. If it is false..." He didn't finish his sentence, but his hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

The man was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, let's go register."

Zane stepped aside, and the group walked past him toward the east side of the camp.

The footsteps faded into the distance, but Zain remained standing, staring at their retreating figures with his one eye, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He naturally noticed that something was off about this group of people. He deliberately let them go earlier because he wanted to know where they were going and who they were meeting.

One person can't beat five people, but if they think they're safe and let their guard down, they'll go looking for their accomplices.

Then he will know exactly how many people are in this group.

Zane's figure also disappeared into the darkness.

He followed behind those people, maintaining a distance from which he wouldn't lose them or be discovered.

As expected, those people did not register. They left the camp, walked through a thicket of bushes, and came to a secluded ravine.

In the mountain valley, a large group of people stood in the darkness, about a hundred elite knights, dressed in heavy armor and holding longswords. The moonlight shone on their armor, making it gleam with a cold light.

Zane's pupils suddenly contracted.

He didn't say anything, but quietly backed away, then turned and ran wildly towards the camp.

He alone cannot handle a hundred.

In the center of the camp, William sat by the campfire, holding a cup of hot tea.

Seeing Zain running over with a livid face, he put down his teacup and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"The Northerners," Zane gasped, "at least a hundred elite knights, dressed in our uniforms, have infiltrated and are gathering in the ravine east of the camp!"

He stood up, his gaze sweeping over the mercenaries around him. "Pass down the order: everyone to be on high alert. Send someone to Blackwater City to inform the Earl..."

Before the words were finished, a muffled roar came from the east side of the camp, the earth trembled, and flames shot into the sky.

That's the direction of the granary!

"Damn it!" William slammed his fist on the table. "They've made their move!"

On the east side of the camp, the firelight illuminated half the sky.

Knights from the North surged out of the darkness like a tide, brandishing their longswords and slashing at the mercenaries who hadn't yet reacted.

The roof of the granary was set on fire, and the hay and grain crackled in the flames, billowing thick smoke that obscured the starlight.

The mercenaries frantically raised their weapons, but their formation was broken, and they fought individually, no match for the elite knights.

"Don't panic!" William's voice rang out amidst the chaos. "Everyone, move closer to me and form a tighter formation!"

The mercenaries then realized what was happening and gathered in William's direction, forming a circle back to back, barely managing to stabilize their position.

But the knights of the North did not linger in battle. They burned the granary, killed a few mercenaries, and quickly retreated into the darkness.

Their goal was not to wipe out the mercenary group, but to cut off their supplies and starve them to death.

William watched the departing figures, his face ashen. "They're surrounding us."

Zane stood beside him, his one eye fixed on the dark woods. "Commander, we're trapped. We can't get any messages out, and the messengers we sent out will surely be intercepted."

William was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke. "So we have to fight our way out ourselves."

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the still-shaken mercenaries.

"Take a headcount, collect the remaining food and water, and prepare to break out at dawn."

Zane nodded and was about to turn around to make the arrangements when William suddenly called out to him. "Zane."

"exist."

"Take a few men and head west to look for an opportunity. The terrain there is the most complicated, and they might not have enough manpower. If you can get out, go to Blackwater City to report to the Earl."

Zane looked at him, a complex emotion flashing in his single eye. "Captain, what about you?"

"I'll lead the main force to draw their attention from the front," William said calmly. "They want to starve us out, so I'll show them that we Gray Hyenas are not to be trifled with."

Zane opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately nodded. "Understood."

He led a few of his most agile mercenaries and, under cover of darkness, slipped into the dense forest from the west side of the camp.

The moonlight was blocked by the tree canopy, and the forest was pitch black, broken only by the occasional chirping of insects and the sound of the wind.

Zain walked at the front, his one eye struggling to find its way in the darkness.

His footsteps were so light that they made no sound when he stepped on the fallen leaves.

"Brother Zane, can we really get out of here?" a young mercenary behind us asked in a low voice.

"Yes," Zane's voice was calm. "If the commander says yes, then it's possible."

They didn't speak again, but groped their way forward in the darkness.

After walking for about half an hour, a rustling sound suddenly came from the bushes ahead.

Zane raised his hand, signaling the team to stop. He narrowed his one eye, staring in that direction.

The sound grew closer, and two figures emerged from the bushes.

A man, a woman.

The man wore the armor of the Grey Wolf Clan, with a long sword hanging at his waist. He had a thin face and slightly sunken eyes. The woman wore leather armor, with two short swords hanging at her waist. She was tall and had a cold face.

They are Leon and Ellie.

"Stop." Zane drew his longsword, the tip pointing directly at Leon's throat.

Several mercenaries behind them also raised their weapons and surrounded the two men.

Leon's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but he didn't draw it. He looked at Zane, a complex emotion flashing in his gray eyes.

"We meant no harm."

"No malicious intent?" Zane sneered. "You're from the North, armored and swords in hand, surrounding us. And you say you have no malicious intent on our territory?"

"We've separated from the main force," Ellie said calmly. "We don't want to fight this war."

Zane frowned. "Don't want to fight? Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see someone." Leon looked at him. "Vance, do you know him?"

Zane's one eye narrowed slightly.

Vance, the Brotherhood's second-in-command and one of the Earl's confidants. He certainly knew him, but he didn't trust the man before him.

"So what if we know each other?"

"He helped me at the Knights' Party," Leon said, his voice slightly hoarse. "If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be where I am today."

"I owe him a favor, and I also owe the Earl of the Southern Border a favor."

Zane stared at him for a long time, the wariness in his single eye not fading, but he sheathed his longsword.

"You are... Leon from the Grey Wolf family?"

Leon nodded.

"I've heard of you." Zane's voice remained cold. "If you don't want to fight this war, then what are you doing here?"

"I was sent here by military orders, I had no choice," Leon's voice was soft but firm, "but at least, I want to see if I can do something to stop the killing here."

Zane was silent for a moment, then sighed.

"The commander is surrounded, the granary has been burned, and our men are trapped in the camp. If you really want to help, take us out."

Leon looked at him, a thoughtful glint in his gray eyes. Finally, as if he had thought of something, he looked up and nodded to Zain.

"If you're asking me to help in the fight, I can't do that from my family's perspective, but if it's just about escaping... I have a way."

He turned and walked deeper into the dense forest. Ellie followed behind him, her hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes wary.

A look of surprise flashed in Zane's single eye. After exchanging a glance with his companion, he led a few mercenaries and followed.

He didn't know if this person was trustworthy, but at the moment, he had no other choice.

This may be the last chance.

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