Chapter 194 A Path Cleared
Clarence’s POV
The night air was sharp, carrying the faint scent of dust and earth. I crouched low at the edge of the minefield, staring at the ground like it was a battlefield of ghosts. Every inch beneath us could be death. The placement of Benjamin’s traps was unknown, every hidden sensor and explosive a potential tomb. Twelve men already lost in the castle reminded me that hesitation was dangerous. but on the other hand, so was rushing. Precision was everything.
“Stephan, Gregory,” I said, my voice low and controlled, “We probe first. We do so very carefully. We take only one step at a time. No missteps. That will cost us.” I said as I looked at them and meant every word. We don't have any wiggle room on this whatsoever. We have to be one hundred percent accurate.
Stephan nodded, his hands hovering over the portable controls we’d brought to manually trigger suspected mines. Gregory was tense but ready, eyes scanning the perimeter as if willing the hidden explosives to reveal themselves. Behind us, my remaining men waited, tense, shadows in the darkness, their trust in me absolute.
I took the first step, a measured move, sliding my boot lightly over the soil. The ground shifted faintly underfoot. Nothing. I exhaled slowly, letting my heartbeat slow before taking the next. Then a faint click echoed, buried under the sound of wind. I stopped instantly, frozen in my spot.
“Careful,” I whispered. “Too far to the left. We need to adjust.”
Stephan crouched beside me, tracing a line of dirt with his gloved fingers. “If that’s a trigger, it’s inactive, but only for now.” He said as he shook his head.
I smiled faintly. “Inactive or not, we treat every step as lethal. Move forward slowly. Stagger the men behind me in single file. Every step measured. Every footfall calculated.”
One by one, my men followed, careful not to disturb the soil. I probed each segment, then Stephan triggered small, isolated charges to test the ground’s reactions. Tiny explosions erupted, sending dirt and rocks into the air. The first path slowly opened, it was very narrow, but enough for a man to walk without setting off the rest.
Gregory’s voice was tight. “You’re exposing us to risk with each step. Any mistake.”
“I know,” I said sharply, continuing forward. “That’s why we do this manually. I control the timing. I decide what goes off and when. The rest of you follow exactly where I step.”
Minutes stretched like hours. Each step required constant vigilance, calculations running through my head, soil density, blast radius, potential chain reactions. My men moved as ghosts, careful, disciplined. We triggered another set of charges, slight, staggered, enough to widen the corridor. Sparks of firelight from the explosions lit our faces, casting shadows across determined eyes.
A few misfires rattled us, small tremors that made a man’s breath catch, but the sequence held. Step by step, section by section, the minefield yielded. The deadly lattice of Benjamin’s traps began to give way beneath our careful orchestration.
“Halfway,” I muttered, as I crouched low. “Keep moving. Every trigger precise. Every movement measured. No hesitation.”
Stephan and Gregory mirrored me, guiding the men, controlling the detonations. Tiny flashes lit the dark yard ahead of us. The tension was suffocating. A single mistake could end everything. But we were methodical, ruthless in our control.
Finally, the corridor widened enough for all my men to move freely. I stood, dusting off my hands, surveying the cleared path. It wasn’t wide, and it wasn’t elegant, but it was safe. It was very effective and it works.
Gregory exhaled, voice tight but triumphant. “We fucking we did it. The path is clear.” He exhaled like he was holding his breath the entire time.
I allowed myself a small, dangerous smile. “Yes. Clear enough to move, clear enough to survive. And if anyone tries to follow…” My gaze swept over the remaining minefield, still lethal, “they’ll regret it.” I couldn't help it. I chuckled in a manic way. More evil than anything.
Stephan let out a breath, the tension easing from his shoulders. “So, we can retreat, regroup, and strike when ready.”
I nodded. “Exactly. Back into the compound. Everyone accounted for. Victory, for now.”
The men followed me back, stepping carefully over the last few meters before the cleared corridor ended. Inside the compound walls, I allowed myself the faintest glimmer of triumph. My warriors looked at each other, tension replaced with relief. Even Gregory allowed a small grin.
I raised a hand, voice carrying over the courtyard. “Hoorah! We live, we move, and the minefield is behind us. And now…” My eyes glinted, sharp as steel, “we plan the next move. The palace thinks they’ve won a battle. They haven’t seen the war yet.”
Cheers erupted from my men, a mixture of relief, pride, and adrenaline. The path was cleared. The minefield had been conquered. And for the first time in what felt like hours, I allowed myself a slow exhale, letting the satisfaction wash over me.
We had survived the impossible. And Clarence, the rogue king, always survives.