Chapter 114: Fortress of Ferm Established

Chapter 114: Fortress of Ferm Established



At that same time, Eamon was slowly waking up from his bed. The soft rays of the early morning sun filtered through the small window beside his bed, casting a warm glow across the room. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. With a yawn, he stretched his arms above his head and then sat up, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the bed.

Eamon glanced out the window, expecting to see the familiar sights of Ferm-the ruined, deserted city he had known for so long. But what he saw made him freeze. The view outside was not the Ferm he recognized. The once-crumbling buildings were replaced with structures that looked modern and sturdy. Roads that had been cracked and charred were now smooth and well-maintained.

Eamon blinked, trying to make sense of the scene before him. This wasn't the desolate city he remembered. It looked... different. Almost like Akarios Island, but not quite the same.

Confusion washed over him, and he quickly got out of bed, throwing on his clothes. He had to find out what was going on. Without wasting another moment, he headed for the door, his heart pounding in his chest.

As he stepped outside, the feeling of unfamiliarity deepened. The air was crisp and clean, unlike the musty, stagnant air he was used to in Ferm. The streets were bustling with activity -soldiers moving in formation, vehicles parked neatly along the sides, and the distant sound of construction work echoing in the air. Everything was organized, efficient, and completely different from the Ferm he knew.

Eamon walked down the street, his eyes wide as he took in the sights around him. He stopped one of the soldiers who was passing by, someone he had never seen before.

"Excuse me," Eamon called out, his voice shaky. "Where can I find Vincent?"

The soldier, who looked surprised to see him, quickly pointed in the direction of the airfield. "You'll find him at the airfield, sir. Just follow this road."

Eamon nodded, still trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. He continued walking, following the soldier's directions. As he approached the airfield, he noticed something that made him stop in his tracks.

There, in the middle of the airfield, was a massive aircraft. Its size was staggering, dwarfing everything around it. Eamon had never seen anything like it before. The aircraft's enormous wings stretched out on either side and there were four tubes, two tubes per wing.

He tilted his head to the side. What was this machine doing here? How did it get to Ferm? He resumed his walk toward the aircraft, his pace quickening as his curiosity grew. The closer he got, the more details he noticed-the sleek, modern design, the smooth, reflective surface of the metal, and the way it seemed to dominate the entire airfield.

As Eamon reached the aircraft, he spotted Vincent standing near one of the massive landing gears, his gaze focused on the plane.

"Sir Vincent!" Eamon called out, his voice still tinged with disbelief. "What's going on here? What happened to Ferm? And what is that thing?" He pointed toward the enormous aircraft, his hand trembling slightly.

Ten Kilometers East of Ferm

The dim light of dawn barely penetrated the thick canopy of trees surrounding the hidden mercenary hideout. The camp was well concealed, nestled deep within the forest, with only a narrow, winding path leading to it. The mercenaries had chosen this location precisely for its seclusion, far from prying eyes and close enough to the abandoned city of Ferm to keep a watchful eye on the ruins.

Inside the largest tent, a man sat hunched over a rough-hewn wooden table, studying a map of Ferm by the flickering light of a lantern. His name was Garrick, the leader of this ragtag group of mercenaries. His rough, scarred face was etched with a permanent scowl as he traced his finger along the map, stopping at the town hall marked in bold red. "Ferm's been deserted for months now," Garrick muttered, more to himself than to the others in the tent. Around him, a few of his trusted lieutenants stood in silence, awaiting his orders. "The townsfolk fled in terror, thinking that damn dragon was going to burn everything to the ground. But they left something behind. Something valuable."

One of the lieutenants, a wiry man with a patch over one eye, leaned in closer. "You're talking about the mayor's vault, aren't you? The one that's supposed to be hidden under the town

hall?"

Garrick nodded, his expression darkening. "Exactly. The vault's supposed to be filled with gold, enough to make every one of us rich beyond our wildest dreams. But it's not just the gold. There's bound to be other treasures left behind-artifacts, heirlooms, things the townsfolk didn't have time to take with them."

Another lieutenant, a burly man with arms like tree trunks, crossed his arms over his chest. "What's the plan, boss? We gonna storm the place? Shouldn't be too hard if it's just a ghost

town now."

Garrick shook his head. "Not so fast. We need to be smart about this. Word on the street is that someone's been poking around Ferm lately. Soldiers, maybe. Could be looters, could be something else. We need to scout the place first, see what we're dealing with. No point in

walking into a trap."

The lieutenant with the eye patch grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. "You want me to take a couple of the boys and check it out?"

"Do it," Garrick ordered, his voice firm. "Take only the best. We don't need anyone screwing this up. If it's safe, we'll move in fast and take everything that isn't nailed down. If it's not... we'll figure out another way."

The men nodded in agreement, and the lieutenant with the eye patch quickly gathered a small team, ready to head out under the cover of dawn. As they left the tent, Garrick leaned back in his chair, staring at the map of Ferm. His mind was already calculating the next steps, the potential risks, and the rewards. He had waited long enough for this opportunity, and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.

"Ferm's been abandoned for too long," Garrick muttered, a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Time to claim what's rightfully ours."