Transmigration: The Tyrant General Can Hear My Thoughts

Chapter 299: Chapter Two Hundred And Ninety Eight

Damon turned away from the table. He began to walk back down the aisle toward the exit.

As he walked, he noticed a very young soldier lying on a cot near the entrance. The boy was barely eighteen years old. He was sweating heavily, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as he clutched his stomach in agony.

Damon stopped walking. He looked down at the young recruit. He crouched down in the dirt right next to the young boy’s cot.

Damon reached out his large, rough hand. He gently placed his hand over the young boy’s shaking shoulder.

"Be strong, soldier," Damon spoke softly. His deep voice was calm, warm, and highly comforting. It sounded like a father speaking to his son. "The worst part is already over. You fought well today. Just rest now."

The young boy opened his blurry eyes. He saw the General sitting beside him. He felt the warm, comforting weight of his commander’s hand.

A weak, tired smile touched the young boy’s pale lips. "Thank you... General," the boy whispered softly.

Damon gently patted the boy’s shoulder one last time. He stood up, his face returning to a serious mask. He looked at Kade, who had been watching the gentle interaction in silence.

"Come with me," Damon commanded quietly.

Kade nodded. They walked out of the noisy, crowded medical tent and stepped back into the bright sunlight.

They walked across the camp together, heading straight toward the General’s command tent. The camp guards saluted them as they passed.

Damon pushed the canvas flap open and walked inside. He walked around the desk and sat down heavily in his large chair.

Kade followed him inside. Kade closed the canvas flap securely to ensure privacy. He walked to the front of the desk and stood at attention, waiting for his commander’s orders.

Damon did not speak immediately.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the smooth wood. He raised his hand and began to slowly, rhythmically drum his fingers against the surface of the desk.

His eyes stared blankly at a military map spread out in front of him. But he was not looking at the borders or the enemy locations. He was thinking. His mind was processing all the information he had gathered over the past few days.

"It seems we didn’t completely weed out the pest infecting the camp," Damon murmured quietly to himself.

He continued drumming his fingers. He thought about the timeline of events.

First, there was the spy caught near the northern ridge with the explosive iron pipe. Then, the King issued a strict border lockdown. And now, a hidden spy successfully poisons the food supply of the most powerful army in the capital city backing the king.

"This is not a random attack," Damon realized in his mind, his eyes narrowing sharply.

He stopped tapping his fingers. He looked up at his aide.

"Why poison the grain, Kade?" Damon asked out loud, testing his theory.

Kade blinked, confused by the question. "To kill our men, General. To weaken our army."

Damon slowly shook his head side to side.

"If they truly wanted to wipe out the entire camp," Damon reasoned logically, "they would have poisoned the main water wells. Everyone drinks water from the wells every single morning. Poisoning the dry grain is slower. It only affects the men who eat the early morning shift. It is sloppy."

Damon leaned back in his leather chair. The pieces of the puzzle finally clicked together in his brain.

"Unless," Damon said, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "Unless killing the entire army was never their actual goal."

Kade frowned deeply. "Then what is their goal, My Lord?"

Damon looked at Kade with cold, piercing eyes.

"The goal is isolation," Damon explained clearly. "The day after tomorrow is the full royal council meeting at the palace. The King expects all the high lords and generals to attend. The enemy knows that for this kind of event, where safety is paramount, I always travel to the capital city with heavily armed escort of my best soldiers."

Damon pointed his finger toward the medical tent outside.

"But now," Damon continued smoothly, "hundreds of my best men are ill. They cannot ride horses. They cannot hold swords. They are stuck in bed."

Kade’s eyes widened in sudden horror. The realization hit the loyal aide like a heavy rock.

"They poisoned the camp specifically to reduce your guard, General," Kade concluded, his voice shaking with fear. "They knew you would not force sick men to travel. They want you to leave the camp tomorrow morning with only a very small, light escort."

Damon nodded his head firmly. A dark, dangerous light burned in his eyes.

"Yes," Damon agreed. "It is a trap. A very well-planned, perfectly timed trap."

Damon understood exactly what the enemy was doing. The enemy wanted to cut off the head of the strongest army in Daril. If the Tyrant General died in an ambush, the King would lose his greatest weapon, and the borders would become weak but he didn’t know that was not the only reason.

Damon stood up from his chair. He placed his hands flat on the desk.

He gave his final commands.

"Rally the remaining healthy men," Damon ordered Kade, his voice authoritative. "Lock down the entire camp immediately. Close the main wooden gates. Do not let a single person enter or exit this base without my direct, written permission."

"Yes, General," Kade nodded quickly.

"Have them help the medical staff tend to the dying and the sick," Damon continued. "And send your best tracking unit to hunt for any remaining saboteurs hiding in the tents. Search every single corner of this camp. If anyone acts suspicious, arrest them."

Kade bowed deeply. "As you wish, my lord."

Kade turned around, ready to run outside and execute the strict lockdown orders.

But as Kade reached the canvas flap, he stopped. He turned back around to face his commander. His face was filled with anxiety.

Kade looked at Damon.

"But my lord," Kade asked nervously, his voice trembling slightly. "With a lot of our men down, our healthy men here helping out and knowing that the road is a deadly trap... will you still attend the royal meeting?"

Damon stood tall behind his desk. He did not look afraid. He did not look worried. He looked calm.

"I will," Damon replied simply.

Kade stepped forward, shocked. "But my lord, you will be unprotected since..."

Damon raised his right hand, cutting his aide short immediately.

"This is exactly what they want, Kade," Damon explained smoothly. A very slow smile spread across his face.

"If I stay hiding in the camp," Damon said, "the enemy will just disappear back into the dark shadows. They will plan another attack later. I cannot allow them to remain hidden. I need to find out exactly who is brave enough to try me."

Damon walked around the desk. He stood in the center of the tent.

"I will use myself as bait," Damon declared firmly, his voice carrying confidence. "I will walk directly into their trap. I will pull them out into the open daylight where I can finally see their faces."

Kade swallowed hard. The plan was incredibly dangerous. It was a life-threatening risk.

"But General, it is too dangerous to go alone," Kade argued weakly, his loyalty making him fear for his master’s life.

Damon looked at Kade. His dark smile grew slightly wider.

"And who says I’m going alone?" Damon asked softly, his eyes flashing with amusement.

Damon reached out and clapped his hand heavily onto Kade’s shoulder.

"You," Damon said smoothly, looking into Kade’s worried eyes. "Will be coming with me."

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