Chapter 539

Since the war, the border city of Sandoria had been heavily guarded, especially now that negotiations with Starhaven were underway. Sandoria aimed to exchange the prisoners in its custody for the city of Simonton. Consequently, the dungeon holding the prisoners was heavily guarded.

After several days in Sandoria, Rafael and his team had finally pinpointed Septimus's prison: a heavily fortified outpost on the city's edge. They had also thoroughly mapped the prison's interior layout.

However, they were unaware of Oliver's five-day deadline, which expired tomorrow.

Rafael knew Victor would meet with Oliver for negotiations the next day. Although the prince wasn't aware of the exact deadline, Rafael suspected Oliver wouldn't delay the negotiations further.

Rafael decided that while Victor was occupied with negotiations at Fangridge Mountain tomorrow, it would be the perfect time to execute their rescue plan. Victor, known for his large entourage of skilled guards, would likely take most of them to the negotiations. Having spent considerable time on the Southern Frontier battlefield and suffered defeat against the Hell Monarch Army, Victor harbored a deep-seated fear and hatred of them.

If Oliver refused negotiations outright, Victor would likely leave quickly and return by late tomorrow night. Therefore, it was crucial to see if Oliver would stall. A vague stance might keep Victor at Fangridge Mountain until the day after tomorrow, giving Rafael and his team more time.

Jacob had planned the rescue operation: one person would provide outside support while three breached the prison to rescue Septimus. Dylan was assigned to outside support. The operation was scheduled for dusk, during the guard shift change.

The three entering were skilled fighters, but breaking into the heavily guarded fortress and rescuing Septimus from the dungeon would still be challenging. However, Rafael and Everett had previously infiltrated the prison at night. Although they hadn't reached the dungeon, their familiarity with the general layout and guard rotations offered a reasonable chance of success.

Chapter 534

In a wooden hut near Bell River, on the outskirts of the border city, ten men gathered around a low table. Rough-looking and bearded, they wore fishermen's attire; their sun-weathered faces resembled those of local fishermen.

They huddled over a blueprint. It had been obtained through capturing and coercing a craftsman who had participated in the military post's construction years ago. However, the craftsman had only been involved in construction and lacked the original plans. The drawing was from memory; the craftsman was locked in a back room, to be released after the rescue.

"Tomorrow night is likely our last chance," one man said, pointing to the blueprint with a serious expression. "But the rescue will be tough, and we may all die. We only know the building's layout, not its defenses. The dungeon will undoubtedly be heavily guarded. With only ten of us, we face impossible odds.

"Therefore, I ask: those who agree to the mission, raise your hands. Those who disagree should leave with Marshal Crow tomorrow, return to Simonton City, and reunite with your families."

The man on the left frowned. "Tom, what are you saying? We're members of the Septimus Tetra reconnaissance team; we don't abandon anyone. During the war, we survived by any means to gather intel.

"But the war is over, the Southern Frontier reclaimed. We can't leave Law to be tormented. We go in together, and we go out together—or not at all."

"That's right," the others chimed in. "All eleven of us—together in life and death."

Tom's eyes brimmed with tears. Over the years, he'd hidden and disguised himself, blending into the border city, enduring sun, rain, snow, and frost. He was no longer the distinguished Thomas Farrell; he was simply Tom.

Alongside him were Hom, Felix, Josh, Ben, Bruce, Ivan, Scott, Wilfred, and Tobias. Two pairs of brothers were present: Josh and Ben, and Scott and Wilfred.

Since the Septimus Tetra reconnaissance team's formation, there had been no distinction between officers and soldiers; they were equals, united by their purpose: to relay gathered intelligence.

Tom slammed the table. "Alright, we move out at five tomorrow evening!"