The existence of a mole.
It was an issue he always kept in mind. Although he didn’t want to dwell on it, the minerals of the Elder Millie Peninsula were too profitable, so it was entirely possible that someone inside the Council was helping to keep them hidden—someone high-ranking enough to cover up something of this scale.
As if anticipating his and the 1st Battalion’s arrival, the managers had escaped just moments before he arrived, missing each other by the narrowest margin. Assuming that a mole had leaked information beforehand carried far more weight than the absurd idea of a mere coincidence.
Although he couldn’t yet be certain of the mole’s existence, even the slightest possibility couldn’t be dismissed. Still, the chance that the low-ranking workers remaining here knew their identity was extremely low.
From the fact that only some higher-ups had vanished—not all—and the other workers were completely unaware of their disappearance, it seemed either the lower ranks were meant to be abandoned from the start, or the leaders had hastily gathered only the few who couldn’t afford to be caught before fleeing.
Seeing Hugo lost in thought with a sharp gaze, the 8th Platoon Leader hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Ah, and... one of the Delta Team members investigating the traces of the two people has returned with an interim report.”
At the mention of “two people,” Hugo’s gaze instantly shifted to her.
“Any news?”
Hugo lowered the hand stroking his chin and asked as if he had been waiting. At his reaction, the 8th Platoon Leader faltered, uncertain how to phrase her report.
“No, rather than news...”
Since the content was not exactly favorable, she trailed off before continuing.
“From the last place where traces were found, only Kenis’s footprints continued southwest for some distance. But now even those ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ have vanished completely, making further tracking difficult.”
“...”
“So, for now, we’ve pulled some back and sent in two more platoon members specialized in mana detection.”
Having finished, she cautiously studied her superior’s face. Hugo remained silent for a while. His expression did not change, yet his features were marked with disappointment and concern.
He soon lowered his gaze slightly and let out a quiet sigh.
“I see. I understand.”
Deep shadows gathered in the corners of his eyes, followed by a heavy silence.
The 8th Platoon Leader kept her eyes lowered for a moment, then carefully raised her head again.
Looking at his face, she voiced the thought that inevitably came to her, her tone calm.
“Should we... consider it desertion?”
At that, Hugo’s eyebrows shifted slightly. Yet it was a subtle movement, and neither his gaze fixed on one spot nor his posture changed.
His eyelids, as if weighed with pain, flickered several times before his blue eyes slowly turned toward her. He shook his head and answered firmly.
“No, that won’t be the case.”
Even so, it was more a conviction than a certainty. Seeing the 8th Platoon Leader quietly holding his gaze, Hugo repeated the words once more.
“It won’t be.”
It sounded more like he was speaking to himself than to her.
The surroundings grew noisy for a moment. From the prison came the voices of the captured workers, bickering about who had struck from behind and whatnot. But the commotion quickly died down under the restraint of the guard at the front.
The platoon leader glanced that way, then turned her head back to Hugo. With a small nod, she spoke just as evenly.
“Yes, it won’t be.”
Her report concluded, she bowed her head and withdrew to oversee the search of the remaining hideout and continue further investigations.
Even after she left, Hugo remained deep in thought, until unconsciously his gaze drifted to his left palm.
He clenched and unclenched the hand several times before closing it into a tight fist.
The footprints had confirmed that the two were not unconscious. From the length of the trail and the stride, there had been no sign of difficulty in movement or of being pursued.
Inside the cave, traces of a campfire mixed with dirt had also been discovered. They had the time and presence of mind to light a fire and rest. Moreover, the traces were less than a day old.
But why? Why hadn’t they come back?
When separated from one’s comrades during a mission in the wilderness, the most basic procedure for a Council member was to immediately climb to high ground and send a signal—whether by voice or by magic—to regroup.
Such regulations were drilled so firmly that even new members could recite them fluently not long after training. Even if judgment faltered for a moment in a first encounter with danger, the fact that he had still not followed protocol after so much time meant there had to be another reason.
And Leonardo, more than anyone here, had unmatched experience and knowledge in real combat and unexpected situations.
He would know exactly how to act. If he had launched even a single small fireball into the sky to mark his position, Hugo would never have failed to notice.
On this point Hugo was certain. Between Leonardo and himself, an instinct to sense each other had already been forged.
It was not only because they were fire and ice, but because the intense mana and energy they had once unleashed against each other were etched into their very senses like an imprint, unforgettable.
Just as Leonardo had sensed him underwater, and he had sensed Leonardo in the ravine.
Yet now, with no trace of that energy at all, the likelihood grew that Leonardo was moving stealthily to evade him.
Moreover, Leonardo was clever and quick-witted. He might already have realized the tunnels had some special function, and if so—if he kept moving inside deliberately hiding—finding him would be near impossible.
The more Hugo thought, the more tightly his fist clenched. He considered spreading word of the situation to every force on the peninsula in order to capture Leonardo.
But after a while, drowning in negative speculations, Hugo gradually relaxed his grip.
Because he suddenly remembered the promise he had made.
Not to jump to conclusions. Not to judge.
“...”
Hugo slowly blinked, forcing away the solidifying doubts.
He reminded himself that Leonardo had always been far more mature than his own worries gave him credit for. He decided all these concerns could wait until after they met again.
With a long sigh, Hugo steadied his tangled thoughts and tried to release his heart.
Whatever Leonardo was thinking, wherever he was going, whoever he had met, whether he was hurt—his worries towered like a mountain, but...
For now, all he could do was trust, search, and wait for him to return unharmed.
“Council Commander!”
At that moment, a voice called from deep within the cave. Hugo turned toward it, and the 1st Battalion member he had sent to find the liaison officer was hurrying back. But this time, he wasn’t alone.
Behind him came a man wearing the armband of a border-zone liaison officer. Observing their urgent demeanor, the officer approached Hugo, stopped firmly before him, saluted, and spoke.
“Loyalty. I am Aubrey Mason, liaison officer of the temporary headquarters for the peninsula subjugation operation. Bruno Amos, Deputy Commander of the Council’s Southern Branch, has exercised the authority delegated to him by the Council Commander to summon all commanders on the peninsula to coordinates 13, 206, 59 in the southern region of the Elder Millie Peninsula.”
At his words, Hugo narrowed his brow.
“He summoned all commanders?”
“Yes. And he is personally heading there as well.”
