Chapter 176: Personal Mission (3)

Filmos knelt beside the unconscious guard, his fingers moving quickly as he unbuckled the man’s dark, leather-trimmed Anti-Nustra insignia coat.

"What are you doing?" Trillo asked, watching him while keeping his eyes fixed on the misty trail ahead.

"Putting it on," Filmos replied, slipping his arms into the oversized jacket and pulling the dark collar high over his jaw. "We knocked them out quietly, but the second we walk past that swamp archway, the inner guards are going to expect a report or a shift swap. Walking in as lost tamers won’t work twice."

Trillo paused, looking at the second guard lying limp in the mud, then let out a low whistle. "Alright, smart move. Strip him too."

Within two minutes, both young tamers had donned the ragged, mud-splattered uniforms of the Anti-Nustra perimeter guards. The coats were slightly loose, but in the dim, foggy gloom of the swamp, they fit well enough to pass a casual glance.

Trillo snatched up the guard’s signal flare device, pocketing it with a sharp smirk. "If things go south inside, I can use their own alarm system to create a false diversion on the opposite side of the sector."

"Just don’t trigger it unless we have no choice," Filmos said, adjusting the strap of his shortsword so it stayed hidden under the long hem of the coat.

They proceeded deeper through the narrow, moss-draped stone corridor that led straight into the heart of Outpost Sector 9-B. The air grew thicker, heavy with the scent of damp rust, stale oil, and old mana residue.

Ahead, a heavy iron gate blocked the tunnel entrance. Sitting on overturned supply crates near the flickering torchlight were two more guards, lazily playing cards on a flat stone.

"Hey! What took you two so long at the watchpost?" one of the card players called out without even looking up from his hand. "Did the swamp leeches catch your boots again?"

Filmos kept his head lowered, keeping his face hidden under the shadow of his hood as he stroed forward with a deliberate, slow slouch.

"Some wild beast tripped the outer perimeter ward," Filmos said, mimicking a low, raspy grunt. "We had to clear the brush."

"Tch. Pain in the ass," the guard grumbled, throwing a card onto the pile. "Did you bring the fresh rations from the supply wagon?"

"Yeah," Trillo spoke up from behind, adjusting his stance to block the second guard’s line of sight. "They’re right in the back crate. But the captain wants an immediate count on the high-value prisoners in Block 3 before the transport arrives."

The guard holding the cards froze mid-turn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he finally looked up. "Transport? Nobody said anything about a transport coming through Sector 9-B today."

Suspicion flared in the guard’s eyes, his hand drifting casually toward the hilt of his weapon resting against the crate.

Filmos didn’t flinch. Instead, he took a step closer, leaning down as if sharing a high-level secret.

"That’s because it’s an unscheduled collection from the higher-ups," Filmos whispered, his tone brimming with fake urgency. "You know those two old tamers from the Lurdous family? The ones brought in from the Hibiscus? The Legion wants them transferred to the main citadel before nightfall. If they aren’t prepped, it’s our necks on the line, not yours."

The guard hesitated, his fingers hovering over his blade as he weighed Filmos’s words. The sheer confidence in Filmos’s voice—combined with the mention of the Lurdous family that sounded immportant—instantly dispelled his doubts.

"Tch... those bastards in command never give us a heads-up," the guard muttered, shaking his head in annoyance as he pulled a heavy brass key ring from his belt. He tossed it across the stone floor toward Filmos’s feet. "Block 3 is down the left corridor. Second iron door on the right. Make it fast before the shift leader comes around."

Filmos scooped up the keys, his heart hammering against his ribs as he offered a brief, curt nod.

"Got it," Filmos said softly.

As they turned the corner into the dark, damp corridor of Block 3, away from the guards’ line of sight, Trillo let out a quiet breath, leaning in close to Filmos’s ear.

"Unscheduled collection?" Trillo whispered, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips. "You’re getting way too good at lying, kid."

"I learned from the slums," Filmos replied quietly, his fingers tightening around the brass keys as his gaze locked onto the heavy iron door at the end of the hallway. "Now let’s get my parents out of here."

They moved swiftly down the narrow, damp stone corridor. The air grew colder, thick with the stench of stagnant water and rusting iron. Filmos’s heart hammered violently against his ribs with every step he took toward the second cell on the right.

Just as Filmos raised the brass key ring toward the rusted lock, a sharp, metallic click echoed from the far shadow of the turn ahead.

"Halt!" a stern, booming voice barked, cutting through the heavy silence.

Filmos and Trillo froze instantly.

From the intersecting hallway, three figures stepped into the dim torchlight. At the center stood a tall, heavily armored patrol captain with a jagged scar running across his nose. Behind him were two enforcement guards wielding heavy broadswords.

The captain’s sharp eyes narrowed as he scanned the two of them from head to toe. His gaze lingered on Filmos’s shoulders, then shifted down to his boots.

"Who authorized you two to be down in Block 3?" the captain demanded, his hand dropping directly onto the pommel of his sword.

Filmos lowered his head, keeping his face buried under his hood while trying to maintain the same raspy, bored tone he used earlier. "The gate wardens sent us, Captain. Unscheduled count on the high-value prisoners before the transfer."

"Transfer?" The captain let out a harsh, cold laugh that echoed down the hallway. "What transfer? The perimeter shift was rotated twenty minutes ago, and no one was assigned to this sector."

The captain took two slow, heavy steps forward.

"And more importantly..." The captain’s eyes locked onto Filmos’s chest. "Where is your squad badge, private? And since when did perimeter guards start wearing mud-splattered boots from the outer swamp while holding the master keys to the cell block?"

Trillo’s breath caught in his throat. His hand crept slowly under his coat toward his weapon strap.

"Wait a second..." The captain’s eyes widened slightly as he caught a clear glimpse of Filmos’s face beneath the hood. His expression instantly twisted into a dark, vicious grin. "I know that face. You’re the Lurdous kid! The tamer holding Twin Snakes!"

"Busted," Trillo muttered through gritted teeth, his relaxed posture instantly vanishing as he snapped his body into a combat stance.

"Intruders in Block 3! Raise the alarm!" the captain roared, pulling his broadsword from its scabbard with a deafening metallic screech.

Before the captain’s warning could fully echo through the corridor, Filmos’s eyes flared with pure, burning resolve. He didn’t flinch, nor did he run. He threw off the oversized Anti-Nustra coat, revealing the shortsword strapped tightly to his waist.

"Trillo! Block the hallway!" Filmos shouted, his voice ringing with absolute clarity through the damp stone corridor. "We’re taking them down right now!"