Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 270: Chapter Two Hundred And Sixty Nine

Murry forced his shaking hand to write clearly. He wrote the message as fast as he could, making sure the facts were direct and easy to read.

He finished the letter, dried it and quickly folded the paper in half. He reached for a stick of red wax, melted a large drop onto the paper, and pressed the Benson family seal firmly into the hot wax.

Murry grabbed the sealed letter and ran back out the front doors.

"Courier!" Murry shouted into the courtyard.

A young, fast courier, who was always on standby for urgent family messages, ran forward. He was already wearing his riding boots and a light leather jacket.

"Yes, sir!" the courier answered.

Murry shoved the sealed letter directly into the young man’s hands.

"Take a fast horse," Murry commanded strictly. His voice was absolutely serious. "Ride to the military camp. Do not stop for anything. Do not slow down. Hand this letter directly to the General or Lieutenant Kade. It is a matter of life and death."

The courier looked at the red wax seal. He saw the deep panic in Murry’s eyes.

"I will not stop, sir," the courier promised firmly.

He ran to the stables, jumped onto a fast horse, and charged out of the iron gates. He rode at full speed toward the dusty plains where the military camp was located.

Meanwhile, at the Benson military camp, the morning was busy and highly organized.

Inside the large, white canvas command tent, the air was cool. The tent was quiet, away from the loud noises of the marching soldiers outside.

Damon stood in the center of the tent. He was leaning over his desk. His face was serious, focused entirely on his work.

Spread out on the desk was a very large, detailed map of the Kingdom of Daril.

Kade stood right beside him. He held a wooden clipboard and a piece of charcoal, taking careful notes.

"The King’s lockdown is fully in effect," Damon spoke softly, pointing his large finger at the northern borders drawn on the paper map.

"General Cole has placed archers on all the watchtowers. But we need more men checking the merchant wagons in the eastern valley."

Damon moved his finger across the map.

Kade nodded his head. He wrote the order down on his clipboard.

"I will send two more units to the eastern valley today, My Lord," Kade replied smoothly.

Damon stood up straight. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Make sure the guards are very thorough," Damon added, his eyes looking at the canvas wall. "The spy with the iron weapon showed us that enemies can hide in plain sight."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the command tent was broken.

The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps approached the tent.

The canvas flap was pushed open quickly. A camp guard stepped inside. He saluted sharply.

"General," the guard announced, his voice slightly out of breath. "Sorry for the intrusion. A fast courier just arrived from the main mansion."

The guard stepped aside. The young courier, covered in road dust and panting heavily, walked into the tent. He was holding the parchment letter with the red wax seal.

"A letter came in saying it is about your wife," the guard added quickly, passing on the urgent message.

Damon staggered a bit.

His dark brown eyes widened in sudden surprise. His arms dropped from his chest.

"About my wife?" Damon thought to himself.

His mind immediately went on high alert.

If Murry was sending an urgent letter about Camilla to the camp, it meant something had gone wrong. It was highly unusual.

Damon did not wait for Kade to take the message. He stepped around the desk with fast, long strides.

He walked up to the courier, reached out and snatched the letter out of the young man’s hand.

Damon looked at the red wax seal. It was definitely from Murry.

He dug his thumb under the wax. With a harsh, quick motion, he tore the envelope open. He pulled the parchment paper out and unfolded it.

Damon lowered his eyes and read the letter.

The tent was silent. Kade stood still, watching the General read. The guard and the courier made sure not to make a sound.

Damon read the words written in Murry’s shaking black ink.

My Lord,

I write this with terrible urgency. The carriage was ambushed on the quiet dirt road leading to the lower city.

Hugo, the driver, was badly beaten and thrown from the box. He has just returned to the mansion on foot. He is injured but alive.

Lady Camilla has been kidnapped. The attackers took the carriage. Hugo heard them say they are taking her to the abandoned warehouse near the old docks, by the rotting pier.

I await your orders.

- Murry.

Damon stopped reading.

He stared at the words kidnapped. He stared at the words ambushed. He stared at the words abandoned warehouse.

The air inside the command tent instantly turned freezing cold.

An overwhelming wave of terrifying panic hit Damon’s chest. He held his chest as if the panic was eating him alive. But the panic only lasted for a few second. It was immediately, violently replaced by a murderous rage.

Someone had taken his wife. Someone had laid their dirty hands on her carriage. Someone was dragging her into a dark, abandoned warehouse.

Damon thought to himself, his mind filled with a terrifying promise.

"They took her," Damon’s internal voice roared. "They dared to touch what is mine."

He pictured her small, delicate figure surrounded by violent thugs.

Damon’s right hand closed tightly around the parchment paper.

He crushed the paper. He squeezed his fist so hard that the parchment crumpled into a tight, ruined ball. The sound of the paper crushing was loud and sharp in the quiet tent.

The dark aura radiating from Damon’s body was so heavy it felt suffocating. His dark brown eyes turned black, empty of any mercy, filled only with the desire for slaughter.

Kade and the guard standing near the door immediately felt the deadly shift in the air.

They both began to sweat profusely. Kade gulped loudly. The sound of his swallow was clear in the silence.

Damon slowly lowered his fist.

He looked at Kade.

Damon spoke. His deep voice was very low, flat, and dangerous. It was a voice that promised death to anyone who stood in his way.

"Ready the horses," Damon commanded softly, his eyes burning with deadly intent. "We are going to save my wife."

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