“So, does Captain Reed suspect me? Think I didn’t do my best to investigate?” The speaker was a tall, thin man in black, with such an ordinary appearance that he seemed like any passerby you might find on the street—an essential trait for an intelligence agent.

Emily Reed ignored him, lowering her head in deep thought. After a long pause, she finally said, “Earlier, when we were pursuing the Lingyue Swordsman, I saw they had a strange weapon with tremendous power. I suspect they wanted to conserve their forces and then use that weapon to defeat us in one blow.”

The man in black sneered, “Really? I didn’t know Captain Reed could tell jokes—such funny ones, too. You even brought up a strange weapon. So how did Captain Reed manage to escape?”

“All right, Noel, the Captain is here. What are you making a fuss about?” The old man who had been silent on the other side finally spoke.

The man in black, named Noel, sneered again but said nothing more.

These two “families”... Emily Reed looked at the Captain, Dawson Linley, who still had his eyes closed. Are you troubled? Why? Is it because you don’t want to take up the sword again, but are being forced to? It’s so sad, isn’t it? Lin...

“Send a hundred scouts to search for clues on the Western Continent. The whole army is to enter security mode, and double the number of patrols at night. Now, let’s enter the city.”

At dusk that day, the Silver Sword Knights entered Valley Gate City. Everything was peaceful, as if the enemy really had all fled to the Western Continent.

A quiet night—no one knew that death was approaching. Of course, countless people were sleeping.

“Bang!” With a loud explosion, the entire Valley Gate City was engulfed in flames. No one knew where the fire had come from; it seemed to appear out of nowhere. More explosions erupted throughout the city, even knocking down large sections of the city walls.

The soldiers, who had been resting and sleeping, were all terrified. The sea of fire before their eyes was like a call from the Grim Reaper. Everyone fled their barracks, rushing out of the city.

Many cavalrymen, having just found their horses, couldn’t wait to lead the charge out. Beyond the city gates was endless darkness, while behind countless soldiers was a hell of fire.

Another series of strange noises and bursts of fire erupted. A large number of Silver Sword Knights at the front fell. The crowd panicked, and those who had already lost their nerve began fleeing in another direction. Many didn’t even know where the enemy was.

“Stop! Don’t panic!” The black-clad Noel tried to regroup the troops, but on such a dark night, with tens of thousands fleeing for their lives, who would listen to him?

Nearby, the Captain Dawson watched coldly, saying nothing, while Emily Reed and the old man stood quietly by his side.

Amidst the chaos, a sword wind struck at Dawson from a strange angle. A sharp light flashed in Dawson’s eyes as he instantly drew his sword to block it, then charged in that direction. Emily Reed, however, turned pale, because the magic in that sword wind was unmistakably the ice magic of the Lingyue Swordsman, William Scott.

In the direction opposite the fleeing army, Dawson and three others found William Scott and the five-star mage Ethan, along with an unknown young man and several soldiers.

Oh, so this is the Empire’s Wind Swordsman, Dawson, who is as famous as Big Brother Scott? He’s so young—it’s hard to believe. Is it that everyone who masters magic can stay young?

This time, David Clark’s guess was only half right. Indeed, once a person comprehends magic, their body remains at its strongest age until they reach the limit of their magical endurance, and only then do they begin to age—not immortal, but for those at the highest knightly ranks like Dawson and William Scott, their lifespan might approach two hundred years.

“Was it you who planned all this?” Dawson asked William Scott.

The two most powerful men in the Empire, their strength nearly equal in every way—whether in martial prowess or in war. Yet even now, Dawson still didn’t understand what exactly William Scott had done.

William Scott smiled faintly. Heh, do you suspect I did this? No, I couldn’t have managed all this—at least, not without this young man beside me.

Looking back now, even to this moment, he still didn’t know exactly what David Clark had done. He only knew it was what he called a combination of tactics and technological warfare—whatever that meant. But the results seemed excellent, and he still remembered him from that time.

“Do you know? In the art of war, attacking the mind is paramount!” With a profound and mysterious expression, paired with his baby face, he looked just like a mischievous boy telling ghost stories.

Of the three present, there was William Scott, the second prince Henry Harris, and the five-star mage Ethan—the latter being the cloaked old man who had been the only one to notice David Clark earlier.

“I’ve never heard of that,” Henry Harris said timidly. When this young man spoke, there was an indescribable sense of dread, as if he was being manipulated.