Chapter 25: A Minor IED Shock

The soldiers of the Royal Army hesitated; after all, no one knew what dangers might be lurking behind those doors.

"There is no one alive inside."

The mage’s apprentice, following behind the soldiers, spoke again, his voice tinged with impatience. Only then did the soldiers cautiously step forward, preparing to push the doors open. The apprentice, meanwhile, quietly cast a "Mage Armor" spell on himself, wrapping his body in a nearly invisible shimmer of magical energy.

Three soldiers approached the three separate doors. They exchanged glances and pushed them open simultaneously with a forceful shove. This time, the explosion they feared did not occur. However, the scene inside the rooms made everyone gasp.

In the rooms to the left and right, the corpses of officers lay in pools of blood, their deaths gruesome. In the largest central room, two bodies were tangled in an indecent embrace; one of them was Lieutenant Colonel Juan, the man they had been sent to find.

"Something's wrong! Report this to the General at once!" an officer shouted to a soldier nearby. The soldier took the order and scrambled down the stairs.

The mage’s apprentice and the other soldiers, after scanning the rest of the room, stepped into the center chamber. The air was thick with a nauseating cocktail of blood, alcohol, and heavy cologne.

"Separate them," the apprentice commanded, pinching his nose in disgust, his germaphobia evident.

The officer nodded to his men, and two soldiers stepped forward, struggling to pull the stiff, intertwined bodies of Juan and the other officer apart. Just as they exerted their strength and were about to fully separate the corpses, they felt a thin wire snap.

A dense, hissing sound followed, though none of them could identify what it was. As the two bodies finally parted, seven round, iron objects slipped from between them, clattering onto the floor.

Everyone in the room stared, eyes wide. The color drained completely from the young apprentice's face. Only one thought remained in his mind: *Run!*

But it was too late.

***

"BOOM—!!!"

When the second, more violent explosion occurred, High Mentor Eldridge and Major General Astra of the 24th Division—who had just arrived outside the small building—witnessed fire and smoke erupting from the second-story windows. The force of the blast shattered every window in the room, instantly killing every Royal Army soldier and servant inside, save for the mage’s apprentice.

Thanks to his "Mage Armor," the unlucky apprentice did not die on the spot. Had Morin known this, he would have surely lamented the result, noting that the fifty grams of rifle powder in a single grenade was far too conservative a charge. He would have regretted not leaving behind every grenade he possessed.

Still, the apprentice was in dire condition. The countless shrapnel fragments from the seven simultaneous explosions easily breached the defensive threshold of his first-circle spell. The close-range shockwave tossed him aside like a discarded ragdoll; he slammed into the wall, riddled with shrapnel, falling unconscious and barely clinging to life.

Seeing the High Mentor’s face turn dark enough to drip with malice, General Sanhurho felt a chill run down his spine. He didn't care about the loss of a few soldier-thugs and officers—he viewed their vacancies as opportunities to be "sold"—but the death of a mage from the Sacred Britannian Empire’s Highland Mage Corps... even an apprentice, was not a matter that could be easily resolved.

"Seal the city! Search every house! Arrest anyone suspicious!" General Sanhurho roared his order. He wanted to catch the culprit immediately to appease the enraged Britannians.

This order mobilized the entire Royal Army within Seville, focusing their full attention on hunting "suspicious persons." Ironically, this made the evacuation for Morin’s team, the three young women, and their families smoother and safer than ever before.

...

When Morin and his reconnaissance squad returned to the temporary camp of the 33rd Infantry Regiment’s 1st Battalion, the sky was already dim. They hadn't even had a chance to drink water before hurrying to the battalion command post.

Major Thomas, the battalion commander, was studying a map with other officers; he let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Morin and his men return safely. Before long, Captain Hauser arrived, having received the news. Seeing Morin, Corporal Bowman, and the others safe and sound, he stepped forward and gave them each a bear hug.

"So, what did you find? Lieutenant Morin, did you encounter any enemy ambushes?" Major Thomas asked, getting straight to the point.

"Reporting, sir. Based on our reconnaissance along the way, the enemy has not set any ambushes but has instead withdrawn entirely into the city of Seville!" Morin paused, then delivered the bombshell: "So, we went into Seville."

The command post fell into instant silence. Major Thomas and Captain Hauser froze, staring at each other with expressions that clearly read, *Are you shitting me?*

I sent you to scout the perimeter for hidden forces, and you went and snuck into their city? Do you think this is a trip to the local market? Major Thomas felt as if he were listening to a fairy tale. Captain Hauser, despite his trust in Morin following the morning's battle, couldn't help but voice his skepticism: "Lieutenant, do you realize what you’re saying?"

"Sir, of course I do!"

Morin didn't offer long-winded explanations. He concisely reported everything he had seen: the Royal Army’s defensive deployments on the heights outside the city, the presence of magic-crystal cannons, the arrival of the 24th Division and the Britannians, and their encounter inside the city.

As they listened, the expressions of Thomas and Hauser grew even more incredulous. This story was... remarkably detailed.

Just as Major Thomas prepared to voice his doubts, Morin reached into his pocket and placed an officer’s ID card and a silver officer’s badge on the table.

"This is the identification of Lieutenant Colonel Juan de Rivera, commander of the 1st Battalion, 126th Regiment of the Kingdom of Aragon."

He then took a finely crafted revolver from Corporal Bowman and placed it on the table as well. "And this is his sidearm."

All doubt and disbelief in the command post vanished. Major Thomas picked up the blood-stained ID card and flipped through it, then picked up the heavy revolver—a standard-issue weapon for Britannian officers, provided to the Aragonese forces as part of their military aid.

Every shred of suspicion evaporated. He looked up, re-evaluating the young lieutenant standing before him, realizing he had never truly known the man at all.