Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 593.2: Silent Fortress (2)

Tark Stronghold was a mega stronghold the Saint Mesit Theocracy spent centuries constructing. It was a behemoth even on the eastern border, which had no lack of huge fortresses.

Anyone with common sense would know that a fortress with over a hundred thousand frontline soldiers would require a huge logistics team to handle the supplies. In the Sia Continent, the usual ratio of frontline soldiers to logistical soldiers numbered 1:1, meaning that Tark Stronghold could actually house two hundred thousand people.

A fortress that could house over two hundred thousand soldiers had to be humongous.

If Roel had wandered aimlessly in the underground bunkers, it could easily take days before he finally got out. Thus, he made sure to cast an illumination spell and confirm the directions before heading off with Wilhelmina.

He didn’t bother invoking the Nine-headed Serpent Staff this time, as he knew there weren’t any traps around, at least in the underground bunker.

The better Roel and Wilhelmina’s conditions were, the greater the likelihood of their catching Shrouding Fog’s attention. Knowing that time was not on their side, the two of them made haste and quickly found the path to the surface.

The two of them halted their footsteps at the bottom of a flight of stone stairs to take a brief rest.

Roel whipped out his Nine-headed Serpent Staff, the ultimate self-regenerating meat shield, whereas Wilhelmina held her sword on standby, ready to deal with any threat in their way.

The two of them scaled the stairs and found that the door leading to the surface wasn’t locked. Roel stepped forward and carefully pushed the door open.

The two of them stared intently at the expanding door crack with tense hearts, hoping that they might find hints of human activities behind the door.

Their expectations fell flat.

The world behind the door was pitch-black and silent. Other than the creaking door, there was not a sound to be heard. Roel and Wilhelmina exchanged glances before marching forward.

Soon, the two of them arrived at an intersection. As military people themselves, they knew right away that they had arrived at a critical area.

The military bunker was too cramped to bring long weapons in, and soldiers wouldn’t wear their armor while resting, either. There had to be an armory and a canteen located near the bunker so that soldiers could quickly settle their needs and gather their equipment when they needed to be mobilized.

Roel and Wilhelmina were standing at an intersection leading to those two places, where they would likely find clues about what had happened to Tark Stronghold’s missing personnel.

Regardless of how panicked the personnel of Tark Stronghold were after being devoured by Shrouding Fog, there was one thing they would surely do—secure their rations and arm up. Food was a basic need for the soldiers, and the abrupt change in the environment would have surely prompted them to draw their arms.

It was such military knowledge that guided Roel and Wilhelmina’s search for clues.

The former led the way with the Nine-headed Serpent Staff, while the latter vigilantly scouted their back. The two of them first headed to the armory, only to find that it was locked.

“Hm?”

Roel frowned.

Reading its owner’s thoughts, the Nine-headed Serpent opened its massive mouth and chomped off the locked armory gate, ripping off an entire half of it.

“…”

Wilhelmina was startled by the unexpectedly violent lockpicking. Roel coughed twice to conceal his embarrassment. The two of them entered the armory, and much to their surprise, the armory was full to the brim.

“How could this be…” Roel exclaimed in disbelief as he gazed upon the rows of shelves packed with armor sets.

He walked up to one of the shelves and lifted one of the armor sets out. He noticed words inscribed in small print on the breastplate: ‘Carmen Dugeon, 16, 438’.

“…”

“Roel, what do those inscriptions mean?”

“It’s the owner’s name, followed by their unit number and identification number.”

“Ah? Doesn’t that mean that…”

“Yes, these are active armor sets, not spares,” Roel replied grimly.

Wilhelmina fell silent.

Soldiers were allocated their own armor sets tailored to their physique, which they would wear whenever they were mobilized. The fact that the armory was full to the brim with active armor sets meant that Tark Stronghold’s soldiers weren’t mobilized after they were devoured by Shrouding Fog.

Roel’s eyes flickered with doubt. He put down the armor and made his way over to the canteen, where he found that everything there had been maintained since the night of the incident. Even the food hadn’t gone bad at all!

“Are these rations the type that can be stored for a long time?” Wilhelmina was surprisingly ignorant about the aspects of warfare aside from fighting itself.

“No, they aren’t,” Roel replied, shaking his head.

He made his way to the training square, but there was no one there either.

The two of them proceeded to explore the other facilities of Tark Stronghold, but they couldn’t find anyone. They were forced to conclude that none of the two hundred thousand personnel previously residing in this fortress was here.

Roel and Wilhelmina stood by a window and gazed out at the scenery outside, which was cloaked by a thick white fog that didn’t allow them to see far even with their enhanced sight. Neither of them knew what to say.

Roel’s plan to find Tark Stronghold’s survivors and rescue them had fallen flat, though he did come to realize something.

Even though the personnel of Tark Stronghold had gone missing, there was a chance they were alive. Time was somehow frozen in this space, as evidenced by how none of the food in the canteen had gone bad.

This gave rise to some thoughts in Roel’s mind.

“Let’s head to the communication room. The magic tools should still be functioning.”

“Are you thinking of…”

“Yes, I want to try establishing communication with the outside world and have them track Shrouding Fog’s current location in the real world,” Roel said as he made his way toward the higher floor of Tark Stronghold.

Wilhelmina followed him closely to ensure his safety.

After some searching, they finally found the emergency communication room.

Roel looked at the magic tool lying on the table and frowned. He cast a questioning glance at Wilhelmina, who stepped forward to examine the magic tool before nodding.

“This is a model used within the united army. I know how to use it.”

“That’s great.” Roel heaved a sigh of relief.

He was in the midst of thinking about the content of their message when Wilhelmina, who was fiddling with the magic tool at this point, suddenly froze up and glanced at him.

“Roel, have you been here before?”

“Of course not; that’s why I’m exploring the fortress with you. What did you notice?”

“…The last transmission from this communication magic tool, if I’m not mistaken, was to your house.”

“Ah?”

Roel was stunned for a brief moment before his eyes slowly narrowed.

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