Bound To The Dead: The Deceptive Class-E Farmer-Chapter 72: The Farmer at Spawnhold Kingdom

The sun was dipping low behind the trees when Isaac and Elder Simon finally stopped for the night.

The soft sound of water running nearby filled the quiet space between them. They had traveled all day without speaking much. Now, near a shallow stream, the air felt cooler, and the ground was soft enough to rest on.

Elder Simon tied his horse to a nearby branch. He glanced to the side and raised an eyebrow.

Isaac was already sitting against a tree, arms resting on his knees. His horse stood nearby, untied but calm.

"You’re not going to tie him?" Simon asked.

Isaac shook his head. "He won’t run."

Simon walked over, brushing some dust off his robe. "It’s rare to see an albino horse. I know yours is aged, but it still has strength."

Isaac looked at Gaspar. Yes, he took him from the stable and made it look like he had just escaped from his tether, rather than being stolen in Bulcan’s vicinity. The old horse was sipping from the stream, peacefully.

"I’ve had him since I was a kid," Isaac said. "My father and I used to work the fields with him. I never thought he’d still be with me after all this."

Simon sat down slowly, letting out a quiet sigh. "Sometimes," he said, "there are things we think are lost. But one day, they surprise us by appearing before us again."

Isaac stared at the fire. He watched it crackle to life as one of Simon’s companions lit it. He didn’t know if he was talking about the horse, or something else. He didn’t ask. Didn’t want to know.

Dinner was simple, just dried meat, boiled roots, and water from the stream. They sat close to the fire. One of Elder Simon’s men handed Isaac a bowl and quietly stepped away.

Isaac took a few bites, then looked across at Simon. "How many Class S do you have in Spawnhold?"

Simon chewed slowly before answering. "Three. A mage, a spearman, and a swordsman."

He set his bowl down, brushing crumbs from his robe. "Before I left, we sent the swordsman and mage to defend the eastern fortress. That wall guards the Rookheim border. If they take it, the palace is next."

Isaac nodded, listening while he ate. The fire popped, sending small sparks into the night air.

Once he finished, Isaac lay down on the grass and folded his hands behind his head.

"How many soldiers do you have in total?" he asked, eyes on the stars.

"About thirty thousand," Simon said. "Half are stationed at the eastern fortress."

He paused, then added with a cautious tone, "Do you... usually handle war strategies? When you’re at war?"

He asked because he had assumed as much. The way Aiah entrusted this mission to Isaac alone without hesitation and the way Isaac had declared at the meeting that he would lead their soldiers, it all pointed to someone who had done this before..

Isaac answered flatly, "No, I was raised as a farmer, not a soldier."

Simon gulped, unsure how to respond, but before he could say anything, Isaac kept going.

"But if we’re up against all humans," Isaac said casually, "I can wipe them all."

Simon’s throat dried. There was no sign of boast or bluff in Isaac’s tone. Just a plain statement, like he was talking about pulling weeds.

He didn’t know if Isaac was serious. Maybe it was a joke. Maybe not.

"...Are you still not going to tie your horse?" Simon asked, trying to lighten the moment.

Isaac didn’t even open his eyes. "He won’t run."

Then he turned on his side, pulling his coat tighter, and went silent.

Simon looked at the horse, then at the young man. He still wasn’t sure what kind of person Isaac truly was.

—-----

The next day passed in silence. fгeewebnovёl.com

Isaac and Elder Simon rode through dry trails and quiet woods. There was little need for words. As night fell again, they finally stopped at the top of a grassy ridge.

Simon dismounted first. He was about to say something when his eyes widened.

Far across the plains, flames lit the dark sky. Smoke curled upward like black towers. The eastern fortress, Spawnhold’s stronghold, was already burning.

Isaac stood beside his horse, staring down at the scene. He said nothing.

Simon clenched his fists. "This... this can’t be right. They weren’t supposed to breach the walls this fast."

Isaac didn’t flinch. His eyes reflected the distant firelight, cold and steady.

"Then we’ll make them regret it," he said quietly.

They rode fast, faster than before.

The road back to Spawnhold Palace was long, but the fire in the east pushed them harder. If the Rookheim army reached the capital before them, it would be over. No time for breaks. No time to think.

When they finally passed through the city gates, the sun was beginning to rise. The air felt heavy.

No banners flew. No drills echoed from the courtyards. The soldiers that were visible barely looked like soldiers at all, leaning against walls, sitting on the ground, armor half-buckled, eyes sunken and tired.

Isaac took it all in quietly. His face was calm, but his eyes didn’t miss anything.

Simon led the way toward the inner keep. A young captain jogged up to meet them. His expression was grim.

"Elder Simon," the captain said, giving a shallow salute, "it’s bad. The king hasn’t risen from bed in three days. And Sir Dravan... he died yesterday. Spear to the chest during the fortress retreat."

Simon stopped walking.

The captain lowered his voice. "The men are scattered. Most think we’ve already lost. They’re waiting for a command. Or a surrender."

Isaac stepped forward.

"Then let’s give them a third option."

—-----

Inside the keep, the war room was dim and crowded. Maps were pinned to the walls, but none had been touched recently.

The local commanders stood in a loose circle, five in total. One wore spotless armor and stood tall with practiced pride. Two looked too young for the lines on their uniforms, and the last two looked like they hadn’t slept in days.

They all turned when Elder Simon and Isaac stepped in.

A tall, broad-shouldered man in his late forties, arms crossed and a long scar running across his cheek, narrowed his eyes at Isaac.

"This is the one Queen Aiah sent?" he asked. His voice was low, but the bite in it was clear. "How many men is he commanding?"

Simon answered without hesitation. "None, General Marvik. Only him."

Marvik blinked. Then he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "So we’re on the edge of collapse, and she sends us one man? Not even a squad? What are we supposed to do, cheer while he charges the Rookheim army alone?"

Isaac stayed quiet. But hearing the man’s name stirred something in him. He lifted his eyes slightly, using his Appraisal skill.

[Name: Marvik Francois

Type: Sphere Man

Rank: Class S

Status: Alert – Irritated

Abilities: Unknown – Authority too low

Hidden Trait: Unknown – Authority too low]

One of the younger commanders stepped forward, holding out an eyeglass device.

[Class: E]

[Specialty: Farmer]

[Abilities: Crop Cultivation, Harvest Efficiency, Soil Analysis, Livestock Farming]

The man scoffed. "A Class E farmer? Is this a joke?"