The Guardian gods-Chapter 742

Meanwhile, on the eastern continent, as news from the court continued to ripple outward like slow-moving thunder, unseen currents were already shifting on this side of the world.

Along a well-worn trade road, six ornate carriages rolled forward in solemn unison. Each carriage bore two passengers seated within, twelve individuals in total. Their posture was upright, their breathing steady, yet their eyes remained firmly shut, as though locked in a deep slumber. Behind them stretched a long caravan of supply wagons, escorts, and retainers, all flying the banner of a minor but well-known nation: the Weps Kingdom.

Weps was a trading kingdom by nature, its influence built not on armies but on contracts, routes, and carefully maintained alliances. Among those alliances, its relationship with the Osita Kingdom stood foremost. Any seasoned merchant or border guard could tell from the caravan’s route alone that this procession was bound for Osita’s capital, likely bearing envoys, gifts, or negotiated promises meant to strengthen diplomatic ties.

To any observer, the twelve silent passengers appeared unmistakably human, nobles, perhaps, or high-ranking officials resting their eyes during a long journey. Their clothes were refined, their features calm, unmarred by fear or strain. Nothing about them suggested danger.

Nothing, except the truth.

They were Murmur’s pawns.

The very same pawns who had once acted as envoys to the Omadi Kingdom, a nation infamous for its long-standing rivalry with Osita. Where these pawns traveled, Murmur’s will followed, unseen and unquestioned.

The caravan trailing behind believed they knew exactly who they escorted. These were the same lords and nobles who had departed with them days ago, exchanging pleasantries, issuing orders, and discussing trade figures by lantern light. Every guard, every servant, every merchant would swear their lives on that truth without hesitation.

Yet none of them realized what they were truly transporting.

Or rather, what these new lords carried with them along this journey..

A presence, a seed of influence, patiently waiting to be planted at the heart of Osita. Something capable of reshaping power, and forcing the stable hands of the eastern continent.

Within the confines of their borrowed bodies, Mei and the others communicated in silence, their thoughts weaving together in a closed mental channel. No lips moved, no expressions shifted, yet their concern was unmistakable. The conversation circled relentlessly around a single question, what were their true chances of remaining undiscovered once they crossed into Osita territory?

This time of year was the worst possible moment.

Osita’s borders were never lax, but during this season security reached its peak. Patrols doubled, checkpoints multiplied, and even court mages individuals who would normally command respect and authority were reduced to little more than vigilant sentries. Their sole purpose was to scrutinize everything that passed through the kingdom’s veins, ensuring that nothing harmful, foreign, or anomalous slipped through unnoticed.

Not even magic was trusted.

One of the men among them, bearing a faint scar across his face, though his current appearance told a very different story sent his thoughts firmly into the shared space.

"We must trust our lord and follow his orders as they were given. He has prepared us for this."

His mental voice carried an unshakable certainty, the kind born from long service rather than blind faith.

"Each of us was given artifacts specifically designed to keep our identities hidden," he continued. "They will hold."

Almost immediately, another presence pushed back against his confidence. A woman’s thoughts cut in, sharp, no comfort in her tone, only realism.

"Those artifacts are not limitless," she replied. "They have a fixed number of uses. Every time a detection measure is employed against us, the artifact activates to shield our true nature."

A pause followed, heavy with unspoken implication.

"And depending on the strength of the measure used," she added, "a crack forms."

They all understood what that meant.

Cracks accumulated. And cracks, eventually, became fractures.

"We all know how important this season is to Osita and its royal family," she pressed on. "If a detection method, no matter how extreme can guarantee their safety, they will not hesitate to use it. Lesser measures will not be spared simply for convenience."

Silence returned to the mental channel.

Beyond the carriages, wheels continued to turn and banners fluttered peacefully in the wind. To the guards and attendants, nothing was amiss. The road was calm. The journey routine.

Another presence joined the mental channel, calm and unnervingly composed.

"We were never meant to survive this plan. Whether we are discovered or not means very little, as long as we..."

His thoughts cut off abruptly.

All twelve of them opened their eyes at once, their gazes snapping toward the first carriage.

Within it, a small box wrapped tightly in layered chains began to tremble. The chains rattled softly at first, then more violently, as though something inside had drawn a single, restless breath. The disturbance lasted only a moment before the box fell still once more.

A collective release followed. Relief washed through the mental channel.

Their eyes closed again, and the mental connection reformed.

"Before I was rudely interrupted," the calm voice resumed, untouched by fear, "our only purpose is to ensure that reaches its destination before we are found."

Mei’s hand curled into a tight fist.

Hearing his words, feeling their cold certainty, something inside her fractured. The fear she had buried too deeply surged upward, overwhelming the discipline Murmur had carved into her. Her thoughts spilled uncontrollably into the shared connection.

What echoed through the link was not a sentence, but a raw, wordless roar born from the depths of her heart.

I don’t want to die.

The reaction was immediate.

One by one, the others turned toward her. Though their faces remained composed, their minds were anything but. Cold intent pressed down on Mei from every direction, sharp and merciless. She could feel it, clean, efficient calculations forming in an instant.

She realized her mistake too late.

In their eyes, she was no longer a comrade this instant. She was a flaw.

A liability to be removed.

The pressure grew heavier, the unspoken decision nearing completion, when the calm voice spoke again.

"Let her be."

The killing intent wavered.

"We need her if we are to achieve our goal."

Reluctantly, the others withdrew their focus, though the judgment remained. Mei could still feel it lingering at the edges of the mental linkcold, watchful, waiting for any sign of weakness.

The mental meeting collapsed into silence.

Mei’s outburst had left a residue, unease clinging to every shared thought. None of them spoke again. None of them dared to. And then, as if the world itself had noticed the fracture among them, a sudden shiver ran through their borrowed bodies.

Something brushed against them.

It was brief. Precise. Cold.

A scan.

The mental connection severed instantly.

All twelve opened their eyes at once, alert and rigid. Several leaned forward, peering out from their respective carriages just as a voice called out from the caravan trailing behind them.

"My lords," the escort announced respectfully, "we are now approaching one of the border gates of the vast territory of the Osita Kingdom."

The annoucement were unnecessary.

These disguised pawns knew exactly where they were.

Every hair on their bodies stood on end. The air itself felt different, denser, sharper, as though the land was watching them. They had underestimated Osita’s vigilance. This was not a single perimeter to breach, but a living net woven from spellwork, ritual, and disciplined paranoia.

Another scan passed over them.

Then another.

Each one came at irregular intervals, sometimes seconds apart, sometimes nearly overlapping. There was no rhythm to predict, no pattern to exploit. And with every pass, a subtle irritation crept deeper into their minds. Not pain. Not damage.

Provocation.

Their powers bristled in response, instinctively resisting the intrusion. They suppressed it, forced it down but the irritation lingered, persistent and invasive, like an itch beneath the skin that could not be scratched.

If this continued, something would slip.

A subtle nudge pressed into Mei’s mind not words, but intent.

"Now".

Her breath caught.

For a moment, she hesitated. Then her hand slipped into the folds of her robe and withdrew a small, living lizard. Its scales shimmered in unnaturally bright hues, pulsing faintly with alchemical life. The creature twitched, sensing danger.

Mei tightened her grip.

With a sharp squeeze, she crushed its head.

The lizard burst apart, its body dissolving into a spray of warm, bloody mist that splattered across her palm and the air before her. Mei did not flinch. Her lips began to move rapidly, voice spilling forth in a low, hurried chant, ancient syllables layered with binding clauses and concealment seals.

The spell took shape.

As the final incantation left her mouth, the blood-red mist shimmered, its color shifting and thinning until it transformed into a vibrant, dust-like cloud, iridescent and faintly luminous.

Mei raised her hand and swept it outward.

The colorful mist drifted down, settling gently over the small box wrapped in chains within the first carriage. It seeped into every crevice, clung to every link, and then vanished entirely, as though it had never existed.

At that same moment, another scan washed over them.

This time, it lingered, paused then passed on.