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Chapter 109

Dante’s Immortality – Chapter 109

Dante walked through the camp with purpose, as though he had somewhere to be and shouldn’t be interrupted. He didn’t enter the camp of ‘his’ mercenary group though. Instead, he began by walking around and scouting out his target.

Something that surprised him was the lack of security in his target’s camp. It seemed that they relied heavily on the other mercenary groups under their control that were surrounding them when it came to being alerted to threats. It actually worked in his favor, but infiltrating the camp itself would still be challenging. All of the mercenaries were still on alert, ready for action in case there was a raid close by their camp.

Dante’s eyes scanned over his own camp. Raids were no longer being sent out, but several were in the process of attacking.

That made things somewhat annoying, he needed to kill time and wait until the camp quieted down. Lacking better options, Dante headed toward the latrines. Specifically, the latrines that weren’t anywhere near his target.

Dante stepped past the combatant on sanitation duty with a hand clamped over his stomach and what he hoped was a constipated expression on his face.

“Hold it.”

Dante turned back to the combatant, reluctance clearly visible on his face. “What is it?”

The combatant had his arms crossed over his chest in a confrontational manner. There wasn’t the slightest change in his expression unchanged. “If you’re going to go out your way to use our latrine, make sure you cover your own shit. If you think that just because your position is higher than mine you can break the rules-”

“Yes, yes. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up after myself.” Dante quickly nodded as he moved toward the latrine. It was obvious that the combatant on sanitation duty was having a hard day. After all, the position was given as punishment.

Dante then proceeded to spend the next hour on one of the makeshift seats that was positioned over the latrine. Then, when all the raids were finished, he got up and threw the sand like composite on the latrine’s floor. Usually the composite would stop the spread of odor and disease, but in this case, it would just mask the fact that he had been sitting idle for an hour.

When he finished, Dante walked past that same combatant from earlier, looking very satisfied. On the other hand, the combatant that was on sanitation duty looked at him like he was a complete monster.

Dante made his way back to the bald-headed man’s mercenary group, using some of the concealing techniques that Victoria taught him. He couldn’t actually sneak around, that would be too obvious, but dampening the sound of his footsteps and walking in areas of poor lighting that would obscure his features was a simple task.

He made it back to the mercenary group, all of their earlier vigilance was gone. Those who hadn’t already retired to their tents for the night were sitting around a campfire, chewing rations and sipping on what looked to be hard liquor. He was surprised that they had any alcohol at all, but the way they sipped it like it was a fine wine gave him an idea of how scarce it was.

Dante walked around the circumference of their camp until he came close to the large command tent, the most likely location of the bald-headed mercenary leader.

Like the rest of their small camp, it was completely unguarded. Had he known that the security here was so lax, he would have infiltrated the camp months ago.

Dante stepped up to the tent like he had been called there after glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being carefully watched. Those within the mercenary group weren’t paying him any attention, they just didn’t care. And anyone in the other camps that noticed him saw that he was a member of the mercenary group and didn’t think that anything was amiss. They only looked at him briefly before turning their attention outward as they watched for threats coming from outside of the camp.

He was just about to step into the tent when he heard a voice coming from inside.

“What about Captain Lawrence, what move will he make?” The voice was contemplative, almost reluctant.

He was immediately answered by a second voice. “I am still unsure, but the same offer is being sent to him. I think that we both know that Warlord Kinton only needs one of you.” The second voice was far calmer, and there was an assertive quality to it.

There was a long pause that lasted several minutes, which helped explain why he didn’t hear anything when he walked up to the large tent. “Very well, but I want what is left of the Silver Spears after we finish off Williams.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

This time the second voice paused, if only briefly. “I think that Warlord Kinton will find your terms agreeable. I’ll discuss it with him and give you an answer at first light.”

It was scary how accurate Jayden’s prediction was. There weren’t any warlords in the surrounding area, so Warlord Kinton was likely self-appointed and one of the two captains that had been standing by Warlord Karabell’s corpse earlier that day. And almost certainly the one Jayden had pointed out in particular.

Dante heard noise inside the tent, and moments later the tent flap was opened to reveal one of the mercenary captains he had seen on the battlefield. He and Dante came face to face, neither looked surprised to see the other. That captain looked Dante up and down, noticed the colors on his armband, then nodded to him before silently walking off.

That was risky, but hiding at the last minute would have only drawn more attention. Even Blinking away would have alerted someone.

Dante waited a few seconds, then walked into the tent as though he had been called while simultaneously preparing his Blink skill and creating a dagger, immediately filling it with world essence.

In front of Dante, the bald-headed captain was sitting in a chair, his back was facing the tent’s door while he was busy pouring the contents of a flask into a rather large glass. “If you think I’m going to give in to any more demands without being compensated, think again. Kinton may have the upper hand, but I’m not that easy to push around. Besides, I would still be a thorn in his side.”

Dante stepped forward.

His silence alerted the captain, causing him to turn his head to look at the tent flap, his eyebrows knitting. “Who are-”

Dante Blinked forward, placing his hand against the captain’s mouth as he sunk his dagger between the captain’s ribs to pierce the heart.

Realization struck the bald-headed captain, his eyes hardened as he jerked his head and tried to break out of Dante’s grasp, his teeth sinking into the flesh of Dante’s hand.

Dante grit his teeth as the captain bit into his hand. His foot moved to intercept the glass that had fallen from the captain’s hand, gently lowering it before it could shatter on the ground. The captain continued to weaken, and only moments later he lost consciousness.

Dante withdrew his hand and examined it. The captain had already been slightly weakened, so the damage was minimal, and the wound began to heal as the passive skill took effect.

Dante began to silently clean up the body, using anything that could work as a rag to clean up the blood before storing the soiled fabric. Then, he picked up the corpse and moved it into the captain’s room, placing the captain on the bed, positioning him on his side so that the blood would be hidden as it bled into the mattress.

After that, he looked around the tent, checking for anything that would alert someone that an attacker had come. The only issue he found was a rug that was stained with blood. Dante quickly replaced it with another from a different room and stored the bloodstained rug.

Dante then walked out of the tent like nothing happened. A few gazes passed over him as he did so, but none lingered.

He walked out of the mercenary camp with purpose, as though he had just gotten new orders to carry out from the captain.

So far, things were going rather well.

The tricky part came when he was preparing to enter the territory of a faction that opposed the bald-headed captain. His disguise, which had worked thus far, would only go against its intended purpose. He would attract less attention by walking through without clothes.

Changing his clothes was going to be a problem though.

Fortunately, now that everyone was turning in for the night, the camp was far less populated. Other than a few outliers, the only combatants that were still awake were on guard duty. Unfortunately, that also meant that he would be more carefully watched by those guards.

Dante made his way to one of the camp’s larger cooking grounds. There were a few large coverings set out for the cooks and areas setup for fires, but otherwise the grounds were completely empty.

He walked up to the grounds with a wronged expression, completely ignoring the guards that were stationed around the perimeter as if he didn’t even notice him.

The guards didn’t ignore him though, one of them put a hand on his chest, stopping him from walking forward. “Where do ya think you’re going?” The guard on watch next to him was also alerted, he had a hand gripping his sheathed sword.

The cooking grounds were always heavily guarded. If someone snuck in poison it would cause a disaster.

Dante maintained his wronged expression as he looked between the two of them. “Captain’s orders. He caught me sleeping on duty. If I don’t clean all the pots on this side of the camp before sunrise he’ll have the skin stripped off my back.”

The guard took his hand off of Dante’s chest and the other removed his from his sword, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down on Dante as he did so. “That’s what you get for sleeping on duty, you’re lucky to have gotten off so lightly.”

Dante looked sullen after being reprimanded by the guard. “I know, I picked up a few extra guard shifts in exchange for the last of my buddies liquor. Didn’t expect things to be so hectic afterwards, I haven’t slept in two days.”

A touch of sympathy entered the eyes of the two guards. The one who stopped him initially stepped aside. “Best get to it then, all the captains have been uptight after the warlord died. It’s better to just get out of their way for now.”

Dante nodded in thanks as he stepped past the guards and into one of the enclosures set out for the cooks. Inside were a few water basins along with the pots and pans that had been dirtied from dinner.

Before changing his uniform, Dante inspected the pots with interest. His combatants were forced to eat that horrendous twice baked bread, so he wondered how well the enemy had it in comparison.

He sniffed a pot. There definitely hadn’t been any meat in whatever it was. All of the pots seemed to have been used to make a lackluster stew, and the main ingredient appeared to have been some kind of weed or wild grass.

Still better than the tac like bread though.

After checking the pots, Dante changed into a different uniform. This one was from a far weaker mercenary group, but because they were weak, their position was somewhat neutral.

Then he walked out of the enclosure in the opposite direction of the two guards that had intercepted him. He was stopped again, but getting out of the cooking grounds was far easier than getting in. A quick excuse was all it took for the guards to allow him past.