Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 156

Chapter 156

The ground shook with the thunder of hooves—thudak, thudak, thudak, thump, thump, thump. Nataek, darting between the front and the left like a sheepdog, drove a herd of dozens of kungas. From the rear, another rider’s whip cracked as they urged the kungas on.

A Guti who was about to hurl an axe at Nataek toppled with an arrow in his chest; the herd trampled the falling body with glee. Wherever the kungas passed, flakes of blood burst like snow.

Their task was simply to run wild while scattering cedar powder across Ur’s field of battle—to flood every street and even the mansion where Lagab would be with his weakness.

Through the relentless drumming of hooves, an arrow sliced the air.

“Down!”

At Medeus’s shout, Nataek dropped his torso.

Neigh—!

A kunga running behind Nataek crashed down.

“Teresi!”

“I’m fine—keep riding!”

From the right, where Medeus should be, came the sharp crack of reins. Screams never ceased around the moving herds of kungas the two drove.

Their formation for this operation was a trident. First, Shuran and the elites infiltrated to open the gate; then Nataek and Medeus would charge straight through with the kungas. Their goal was to push all the way to the mansion and saturate it with cedar powder.

Opening the mansion gate was assigned to the infantry captain and Ur’s soldiers—none knew the layout of Ur’s estates better than they.

And it wasn’t just the center column that had to push forward; the left and right would also advance, fighting hand‑to‑hand, and cover the center. The crux was for the three prongs to drive ahead as fast as possible and complete the line. The priority was not to annihilate the Guti—it was to sever Lagab’s head.

Take him, and the war ends.

The kungas’ thunder swelled. Unguided by riders, the beasts ran more frenzied than ever. Ahead, the mansion wall came into view; the gate was still shut fast.

“Ugh!”

From inside the wall came the sounds of fighting. Just as they and the kungas neared the wall—bang—the mansion gate yawned open.

“Advance!”

At Medeus’s command, Nataek lashed the reins harder. They crossed Ur’s manorial threshold at last.

Medeus finally reined in. The kunga, mad with the run, snorted and heaved for breath; the sack of cedar powder was already half‑emptied.

“Teresi!”

Nataek pulled up and leapt down. Dozens of kungas without reins tore freely through the mansion grounds.

“Cough, cough! Kk—khak!”

Their allies’ faces were covered; the enemy’s were not. With every kunga’s step, powder billowed. So much cedar dust poured out that, allergy or not, breathing itself became agony; the enemy hacked and gagged.

Ignoring them, Nataek grabbed his bow and a pouch of cedar and sprinted into the mansion. The haze was so thick it was hard to see, but the silhouettes of fallen Ur soldiers were clear—the door they had opened with their sacrifice. He spared them a breath of respect and slipped in behind Medeus. The cries of surviving soldiers holding the Guti at bay rang behind.

“Teresi, this way.”

Following his gesture, Nataek ducked into the building. Inside was a different world.

“Looks like everyone went out to fight.”

It was empty as an abandoned house. Only a gray fog drifted through windows where cedar dust seeped in—a ruin from a horror film.

“You know where his quarters are.”

“Yes. I’ll lead.”

Nataek guided him along the route the servant had once shown. The quiet tightened his nerves. He whispered,

“Will Lagab really return to his quarters?”

Their next task was to ambush Lagab—use the weakness to strike efficiently.

“If cedar is his weakness, he’ll come.”

Pressed to the wall, Medeus signaled; reading it, Nataek took the lead up the stairs. Medeus continued behind him,

“In Ur there’s hardly any cedar—he’d never expect this much dust. He likely wouldn’t carry a vial on him, so in this situation he has no choice but to come here for the medicine.”

The system had confirmed cedar powder as Lagab’s weakness. Even so, Nataek’s unease wouldn’t settle.

“If he brings soldiers?”

“Divide the enemy.”

They reached the top. Ahead stood the door to Lagab’s quarters.

“There.”

At that, Medeus flipped his sword in a turn and reset his grip.

“Teresi. Until I signal, stay hidden.”

He motioned to a corner and started forward alone; Nataek grabbed his coat at once.

“What do you mean—no.”

Medeus slowly drew Nataek’s hand down.

“Facing Lagab straight on has limits. I can’t promise I’ll win. Hide—if I signal, cover me.”

Nataek’s hand slipped free.

“Understood?”

Medeus smiled softly—and Nataek seized him again.

“You’re not trying to keep me out of his sight, are you?”

A flicker crossed Medeus’s eyes. Nataek did not miss it.

“No.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“Who was it who said lovers must not lie?”

“…”

With nothing to say, Medeus took his wrist again.

“It’s not that alone… but not all of it either. If I feel myself at a disadvantage, shoot anywhere—make an opening.”

In the stare that bored into him, concern for Nataek mixed with fire for Lagab; even with that fire, he wasn’t ruling out being pressed—Lagab was no easy foe. Through Medeus, Nataek felt afresh what they were up against. He nodded.

“Alright. I’ll hide near that pillar—but I’ll decide when to intervene.”

“Even so—your body first. You know what I mean?”

Yeah. Don’t throw yourself in to save me.

“Yes. My life matters to me too.”

Only then did Medeus’s face ease. He turned to go—then suddenly whipped back.

What—Lagab?

As Nataek’s gaze flicked forward, Medeus seized his cheek and pressed their mouths together. With a soft click, he let go.

“Don’t do anything reckless.”

He said his piece and strode on, grim as if at execution. In the middle of war, what was this—but Nataek couldn’t bring himself to dislike such a display.

Medeus flung the door wide and entered Lagab’s quarters. Through the opening, the familiar table and the bed where Nataek had been hurled came into view. Nataek slapped his own cheek with a sharp smack.

No stray thoughts, Ina‑taek. You could be facing Lagab any moment—keep your head.

On his toes, he slid along to the corner by the door, hiding behind a pillar, bow in hand and an arrow on the string. Pressed to the wall, inching along—

Clunk—

The wall beside him shifted, a black vertical seam opening. A dark slit yawned wider, slowly, as if in a horror scene.

“This way.”

“Hurry!”

The servant’s escape route flashed back in his mind.

Damn—it was here!

He whipped his arm up to aim at the gap—when a thick arm shot out like lightning and uppercut his jaw.

Thud—!

Tonk, tonk, tonk—

The bow and arrow flew from his hands and clattered away. The punch smashed square into his jaw.

“Urgh…!”

His teeth clacked together—his vision went white; even with eyes open, he saw nothing. Pain rolled up from his jaw to swallow his whole body, too sharp even to scream. With no chance to guard, he was hauled into the air by the collar—and cold metal pressed hard to the skin of his neck.

“So we meet again like this—khak.”