Chapter 264: Head of the Intelligence Bureau

To be honest, the idea of the Twenty-Fifth Production and Construction Brigade came to Gawain the moment he realized someone was trying to spy on the Cecil territory. He could admit quite frankly—and with a certain guilty pleasure—that the name was half inspired by his own twisted sense of humor. After all, these otherworlders didn’t get Earth’s inside jokes, and Gawain had come to terms with the fact that indulging in such references wouldn’t undermine his authority as the ancient founder who rose from the coffin. If anything, some might even see it as a sign of his cunning.

But beyond the joke, Gawain saw real value in handling infiltrators this way.

Dead spies no longer posed a threat, but they also offered no benefit. Gawain, however, was not the type to let any “value” go to waste.

He was building an economic-intelligence network spanning the entire southern border, but it would take a long time for it to mature and function effectively. Merchants needed time to establish themselves, intelligence channels required even longer to open and stabilize, and the future “military intelligence agents” were still undergoing basic training within the Cecil territory. Meanwhile, the spies from all over the southern border who had fallen into Gawain’s hands were like treasures dropped from the sky.

If these had been top-tier spies like the Royal Shadows, Gawain might have taken more drastic measures. After all, a Royal Shadow with supernatural abilities who, once exposed, would charge into crowds swinging a greatsword in a whirlwind attack could cause massive damage (Gawain himself had taken the blame for the first generation Shadow instructor’s mistakes). Keeping such a threat alive was more dangerous than beneficial. But the spies sent by the petty southern nobles were a completely different matter. Judging by their “professionalism,” Gawain knew these were nothing but cannon fodder. In terms of survival skills in enemy territory, they might not even match a hundred of Amber’s lackeys.

The southern nobles’ limited strength was one thing; more importantly, they clearly didn’t take the Cecil territory seriously enough to send their best spies. The ones they did send were more like scouts trying to figure out one thing above all else: what exactly was that old ancestor up to down south?

That was why Gawain didn’t overreact with harsh measures. Instead, he chose to gather the spies together and “raise a gu”—a kind of trap or control mechanism.

Of course, for those spies already caught and exposed, there was no choice but to deal with them accordingly and make the information public. This actually worked in their favor: having some spies exposed made the whole thing seem more real. If none of the spies sent to the Cecil territory ever got caught, the southern nobles would grow suspicious—“Not a single spy detected? That old ancestor must be a myth.”

As for the consequences of their spies being discovered by Duke Cecil, the nobles weren’t too worried. Intrigue and scheming were daily life for them, especially in a fragmented feudal system where mutual spying was common. Essentially, they were just gathering peripheral intelligence. As long as there was no real sabotage and things didn’t get out of hand, no one would tear the mask off. Plus, with the era’s near-nonexistent household registration system, even if things blew up, they could always deny everything and save face.

Still, Gawain knew the “25th Brigade” wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, someone clever would see through the truth and expose everything. The spies being “raised” would catch on or try to break free. But given the current organizational level of the Cecil territory, that day was far off. Until the truth about the “25th Brigade” was revealed…

Gawain planned to make good use of this large group of spies.

After sending Heddy off, Gawain called Amber back from her unauthorized wandering.

The moment they met, without waiting for the half-elf to speak, Gawain asked bluntly, “How’s the training going with your people?”

“Anton and the others?” Amber immediately knew this was serious business. Joking around now would only get her a knock on the head, so she dropped her usual teasing tone. “Depends on what you mean. If you’re talking about fighting face-to-face, or just scaring people off, they’re still rough. You can’t expect literacy and book learning to show results so quickly. But if you mean understanding the situation, knowing why the lord summoned them… they’ve got that down cold.”

Gawain raised an eyebrow. “What about basics like identity disguise, intelligence gathering, and message delivery?”

Amber smiled. “That’s their bread and butter. Plus the specialized courses you arranged for them—if they can’t learn that, it’d be a miracle.”

“Good. It’s time to send out the first batch.”

Amber was a bit surprised. “So soon?”

“Spies are already being sent into the Cecil territory. We need to speed up our intelligence system,” Gawain shook his head. “Besides, I’m not planning to give them high-difficulty tasks yet—the basic training isn’t finished. Didn’t you say last time that they could recruit more ‘helpers’ from elsewhere? That’s their first mission: find people, bring in more recruits, and keep training. Next spring, they’ll start moving along the Cecil trade routes into the southern border.”

“I get it. Leave it to me,” Amber volunteered, slapping her chest confidently. “I know those little bastards better than anyone. I’ll assign their missions—you just handle the funding.”

Gawain was absolutely certain that last line was the half-elf’s real agenda…

But he knew Amber was all talk when it came to self-destruction. When it came to serious matters, she understood priorities. He had planned from the start to put her in charge of this: “I was going to assign you anyway. Not just this time—going forward, this whole group is under your command, including any expanded units.”

Amber’s ears twitched twice, as if she hadn’t quite registered it. “Huh?”

“There’s no one better suited for this in the territory,” Gawain said seriously, looking her in the eye. “And no one knows your people better than you do.”

He wasn’t bluffing. Despite her carefree rogue image, Amber was the best candidate to lead the intelligence organization. She was an excellent shadow master, capable of training more shadow-class operatives. She was familiar with all walks of life, adept at dealing with various people and environments to gather intelligence. She had experience traveling across the southern border and had built a sizable team that remained loyal and trusted her even after years apart. This showed she had leadership skills and personal charisma—just hidden beneath her usual irreverent facade.

Compared to Amber, the others in the territory were completely mismatched professionally. Heddy excelled at internal affairs and cracking Rebecca’s skull; Rebecca was good at math, invention, and the art of the “resting stick”; Nicholas was skilled with machinery and comedy; Kamail was pure research; Philip and Byron had some intelligence experience but leaned more toward military affairs and banter.

No one was more suitable than Amber to be head of the intelligence bureau.

Gawain suddenly rubbed his forehead. “Damn, what kind of people do I have in this territory…”

Amber blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“Nothing, I was just distracted,” Gawain quickly composed himself and looked up at Amber. “I appoint you as the first director of the Cecil Military Security Intelligence Bureau. You’ll be responsible for training and managing intelligence personnel and overseeing all intelligence operations. You report directly to me. Understand?”

Only then did Amber fully realize Gawain was serious. Despite always boasting about how awesome she was, when faced with real responsibility, the half-elf was unusually flustered. She stared wide-eyed, confirming repeatedly, “You’re serious? You really want me? If I mess this up, don’t blame me!”

“This job isn’t as complicated as you think. I’ll help you set up a simple framework and show you how to manage it. Then you pick people from your team to fill the department—you can also request clerical staff from Heddy. I’ve already written the basic rules and intelligence guidelines. You can take them with you to study carefully. In short: I believe you can do this.”

Amber quieted down, then looked seriously into Gawain’s eyes. After a long moment, she whispered, “…You trust me?”

“I do.”

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Three days later, in a special facility within the military district, scar-faced Anton sat quietly in the front row of the hall, waiting for orders.

He no longer wore his old, dirty, tattered vest that always smelled strange. Instead, he wore a well-tailored, neatly pressed black thick woolen shirt—a fabric that had become popular in the last two years. It wasn’t as coarse as the poor man’s burlap, nor was it prohibitively expensive. It was the preferred choice of respectable, relatively well-off citizens. He had shaved his beard and sat upright. Though the scar on his face still looked fierce, he felt ready to pass as a merchant.

Next to him sat “the Witch” Jipri. She no longer wore her shabby, ridiculous witch’s outfit or the useless “magical” trinkets meant only to scare people. Instead, she wore a fitted apprentice mage’s short robe and held an oak short staff. In her other hand rested a magic book, like a true mage apprentice. Her few pathetic sparks of magic could finally be put to use.

In her calm state, Jipri actually looked somewhat like a “witch.”

Beside them were “Bucktooth” Bobby, “Long Fingers” Sam, “Quick Legs” Pierce…

These ruffians had all washed off their grime and donned respectable clothes. They sat straight and silent, like genuine citizens—or rather, respectable people: merchants, mage apprentices, knight apprentices, apothecaries, and bards. These were the roles they had been learning to play—and would continue to play for some time.

Not everyone was doing well; many were still “wearing boots but looking like barefoot thugs,” as their big sister put it. But no matter what, today was the day they would prove their worth to the lord.

A commander was about to arrive here, their direct leader, to announce the lord’s first order.

Whispers began in the back rows, people speculating about what this “commander” might be like. But Anton paid no attention. He simply stared at the podium at the front of the room, waiting for a figure to appear.

A vague shadow suddenly materialized there, and then a half-elf seemed to emerge from thin air.

The hall, briefly stirred, fell silent instantly. Anton smiled as if he had expected this all along.

“You little rascals, I’m going to be your commander from now on!” Amber stood proudly on the platform, looking down at the faces—some familiar, others just recently known to her. “I’ve brought you the very first mission entrusted to you by the lord.

“Complete this mission, and when you return, you won’t be gutter punks anymore. You won’t be worthless scum, nor the rats and bugs everyone looks down on. You’ll earn a new identity—official and respectable.

“You will be the very first operatives of the Cecil Military Security Intelligence Agency!”

(End of chapter)