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Chapter 102: Luring the Snake Out Part 2
To Cogin’s eyes, the valley was eerily silent.
It didn’t like this unnatural stillness. Danger always lurked beneath calm waters, like a venomous snake hiding in the shadows, ready to strike without warning.
Cogin was a squad leader of the lizardfolk dragon-hunting cavalry. In most missions, its orders were straightforward—attack or plunder—but occasionally, the dragon hunters also served as scouts. This was one of their least favorite tasks. Reconnaissance in the jungle was perilous, where skill often outweighed speed and agility.
Cogin disliked situations where it couldn’t leverage its strengths.
It raised its head, its elongated diamond-shaped pupils reflecting the pale golden light of the rising sun. The warmth seeped into its cold-blooded body, sending a shiver down its spine. The lizardfolk officer shook its head irritably, its keen reptilian nose scanning for any trace of abnormality in the air. Their orders were clear: locate a group of humans. But where were they?
North of Chablis lay an endless expanse of forest. To be honest, Cogin thought finding a few humans in this vast woodland seemed like a fool’s errand.
Still, the cautious lizardfolk tightened its grip on its spear, its three-fingered hand pointing forward into the dense forest. It emitted a series of high-pitched clicks, signaling its subordinates to spread out and enter the woods.
But Cogin didn’t realize it had already made a mistake.
By the time it noticed that its squad had vanished without a trace after entering the eerie forest, it was already too late. Panic set in as the lizardfolk hurriedly tried to retreat, all while brainstorming how to explain to its leader, Hjúkigr, the loss of four valuable dragon-hunting cavalry due to its negligence.
This wasn’t an easy question to answer. While Hjúkigr appeared crude and unsophisticated to most of his underlings, he was also a shrewd lizardfolk commander, not easily deceived. What could Cogin say? Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—it soon realized it wouldn’t need to worry about this problem.
When it turned around, it saw a human and an elf standing behind it. Cogin had no idea when they had appeared. All it knew was that the elf—no, the Silver Elf—was staring at it with cold indifference. From their recent raids on the tombs of the Silver Elves, Cogin had developed a sense of recognition.
The presence emanating from the Silver Elf unmistakably belonged to a peak gold-rank warrior.
The outcome of the fight was predictable. It was hard to imagine five “fragile” lizardfolk cavalry standing a chance against over twenty warriors at the peak of gold rank.
Thus, Cogin surrendered without resistance.
---
Sometimes, a small mistake can cost you your life.
The only thing that brought Cogin some relief was that its captors didn’t seem intent on killing it—at least, not yet. Unfortunately, this was one of the few somewhat tolerable pieces of bad news. As a seasoned scout, Cogin knew reconnaissance units often captured prisoners, keeping them alive temporarily to extract information. But their fate was almost always sealed; scouts didn’t carry burdens.
It sounded absurd, but it was true. Sometimes, death wasn’t the worst fate.
If you refused to talk, those cold-hearted scouts had ways to make you wish for death. As a veteran scout and even more experienced lizardfolk brigand, Cogin was well aware of what awaited it. But it wasn’t afraid. It had already decided to spill everything it knew the moment it was pressed for answers.
Lizardfolk had no honor.
And as bandits, they had even less.
Its limbs were tightly bound with rope, but it still lifted its head cautiously, examining its surroundings. However, Cogin quickly realized something odd—if their captors wanted prisoners for interrogation, they hadn’t taken many. The lizardfolk officer soon spotted the bodies of all its subordinates, precisely four, neither more nor less. It wasn’t stupid and immediately understood that its survival might be precarious.
Who were these people? What did they want?
As Cogin pondered these questions, the two figures who had captured it stepped into view. The lizardfolk swallowed hard, its eyes darting nervously. If there was any chance of survival, it was willing to take it.
But how?
While Cogin wrestled with this profound dilemma, Brandon was studying it intently. Amber Sword wasn’t a game that followed conventional rules. Players transitioning from older PCs and next-gen consoles had learned this the hard way after countless failures.
Brandon, having lived through the post-virtual era, had adapted to this world’s unpredictable logic.
He stood before the lizardfolk officer, scrutinizing it carefully, then smiled faintly.
Crouching down, he patted the creature’s rough, elongated face gently and said in a soft tone, “I know.” He continued, “You’re thinking I’ll ask you questions, and you’ll tell me everything you know just to beg for your life afterward. Am I right?”
Cogin’s mouth gaped open, revealing over a hundred sharp teeth. It felt as though it had prepared for every possible scenario, only to be blindsided by an unexpected punch. The lizardfolk shook its head, baffled as to how this human knew its thoughts. Did he possess mind-reading abilities?
If so, did that mean its only chance of survival was gone? Cogin trembled uncontrollably. Even if it didn’t expect to live, it hoped these terrifying foes wouldn’t torture it before killing it. Its diamond-shaped pupils glared at Brandon warily.
“Are you afraid?” Brandon asked.
As he spoke, a low chuckle echoed behind him. He recognized the voices of Roma and Antietta, the wild elf sisters, and most of the Rubis mercenaries. Brandon sighed inwardly, silently cursing their lack of tact. Didn’t they see he was in the middle of something important?
But he couldn’t blame them. The first time he’d delivered this line, everyone had been awestruck. After the second or third time, though, they realized their lord was simply putting on a show. Perhaps they didn’t understand that Brandon wasn’t using telepathy or theatrics—he’d simply dealt with enough bandit NPCs to predict their reactions perfectly. He knew which NPCs had integrity and which didn’t.
But Cogin, in its terror, had no room to think about others. It was convinced Brandon was a wizard—a fearsome one capable of reading minds. Though it still harbored a sliver of doubt, that disappeared when Brandon stood up, pulled out a ruby, and pointed it at Cogin.
“Try answering my questions,” Brandon said calmly.
Cogin hesitated, but when it opened its mouth, no sound came out. Its lips moved, but silence reigned.
This time, Cogin was truly terrified. Though wizards were far less mysterious in this age than in the chaotic eras of old, they still inspired fear in remote regions. Cogin stared blankly at Brandon, confused as to why he had “stolen” its voice.
Brandon clenched the ruby, dispelling the silence spell. Checking the gem’s energy—six charges left—he pocketed it and fixed the lizardfolk with a stern gaze.
“See? I can take away your ability to speak, and I can give it back. Your voice is part of your soul. I can take more than just your voice—I can take your soul.”
His voice chilled. “The body decays, but the soul endures. Physical punishment is fleeting, but have you ever tasted the torment of eternal flames consuming your soul?”
Cogin shuddered, shaking its head frantically.
Brandon smiled warmly, placing a hand on the creature’s forehead. “Then help me with something, will you?”
The lizardfolk nodded furiously.
---
“So they retreated southwest?”
“Yes, boss. My men saw them withdrawing along the southwestern valley slope. I don’t know if they spotted us…”
When Cogin pushed open the door to Hjúkigr’s hall, it saw one of its comrades reporting to their leader, seated on a tall chair in the center. The sight made it nervous, but survival instincts prevailed. Taking a deep breath, it steadied itself and approached.
The other lizardfolk finished its report under Hjúkigr’s dismissive wave and turned to leave, brushing past Cogin. The officer dared not look back or meet Hjúkigr’s gaze, bowing its head instead. But it quickly deduced from the number of boots on the carpet that two additional humans were present.
It recognized them. Both were humans, seemingly acquainted with its leader. Cogin had seen them the previous afternoon but knew better than to ask questions—it was Hjúkigr’s business.
Repeating the words Brandon had drilled into it, Cogin prayed fervently to Marsha. Never had it recited anything with such care.
The wizard’s threats still echoed in its ears. Its life hung by a thread.
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