Chapter 281: The 25th Battalion Takes Action

Gawain was deeply grateful for the education he’d received in his past life, as well as his habit of leafing through books and bragging online whenever he had free time. But he was even more thankful that in this life, he had first transmigrated into a satellite intelligence—and during that process, undergone some kind of mutation. He guessed that when he became a satellite, his mind or soul had been “restructured” or “recompiled” at a fundamental level. This reconstruction, based on the satellite’s core system, must have completely sorted through all his memories, categorizing and organizing them. This brought him two crucial changes: first, a willpower beyond that of any human; second, a memory as reliable as a hard drive.

He could recall things with crystal clarity—even those long-forgotten details from his previous life, as long as he made the effort to remember.

Now, he was more than happy to share the valuable knowledge he’d recalled with Rebecca—and, well, with Hetty, who stood nearby looking utterly bewildered.

While the local lord and officials were busy planning postwar production and future development, everyone else in the territory was occupied with their own tasks. Hammer was working with apprentices, researching ways to improve the efficiency of the magical energy smelting furnaces. Norris was contemplating next year’s land reclamation. And the 25th Production and Construction Battalion had just returned to their residential area, gathering for a meeting to discuss tomorrow’s work plan.

Before the monster attack, the 25th Battalion had been building a new industrial zone in the southwest of the territory. When the alarm sounded, like other engineering teams, they had to halt their work and were reassigned to help transport supplies and reinforce the city walls. Now that the battle alert had been lifted, the entire battalion had returned to their base. As a special unit, they were kept separate from other production teams—not only in their living quarters but also in how their tasks and work summaries were assigned. A few overseers and soldiers were specifically tasked with managing the 25th Battalion, and today’s meeting was led by a tall, sturdy veteran from the Cecil Combat Corps, who was said to have served the Cecil family for ten years.

Hall was a member of the 25th Battalion and a newcomer to this territory. He sat quietly in his assigned seat, listening to the veteran soldier relay the lord’s orders to the team. He tried hard to act like an ordinary laborer, but he still needed some time to fully adjust to the role he was supposed to play.

The “laborers” here were different from those elsewhere, which made Hall feel a bit awkward. Fortunately, he was highly adaptable and perceptive, so after a short time living here, he had roughly learned the mannerisms and speech patterns of the Cecil commoners.

Once he confirmed that everyone around him was paying close attention, Hall casually lifted his head and quickly scanned the soldiers in front of him.

It was normal for overseers to manage the laborers, but this team also had three soldiers maintaining order, which was unusual. At first, Hall had been nervous, fearing he’d aroused the lord’s suspicion. But he soon realized that the soldiers weren’t targeting him personally—they were monitoring the entire team. This realization put him at ease.

In fact, he even felt a bit of secret satisfaction. This was a special unit, personally supervised by the lord’s private soldiers. That meant he had been lucky enough to infiltrate a place where secrets could be accessed. There was an element of chance and luck in espionage, after all.

He’d heard that several spies had been caught at the city gates, docks, and checkpoints, then whipped and banished. Yet here he was, still sitting quietly. Undeniably fortunate.

And because he had managed to stay undercover, he had the chance to witness many unimaginable things in this land.

Without a doubt, the resurrected Duke Gawain Cecil was no ordinary man. Leading his descendants and hundreds of refugees to the Dark Mountains was no reckless act—it was a calculated plan. The speed and scale of development in this territory far exceeded the expectations of his own master, Viscount Carol. Sending Hall here had been a wise decision.

Then there were the monsters—creatures said to have escaped from the ruins of Gondor—and the war machines created to fight them…

Even now, recalling the battle that had just ended still sent chills down Hall’s spine. Though he had only caught a fleeting glimpse of the battlefield’s latter half while climbing the walls to deliver bombs, the scene had been enough to make his legs go weak. He couldn’t imagine such terrifying things existing in the world, nor that the resurrected duke would create thunderous war machines to combat them. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, who would believe such things were happening on the frontier of civilization?

The soldier delivering the orders didn’t drone on like a noble lord, so while Hall was lost in thought, the soldier finished the key points and dismissed the meeting. The members of the 25th Battalion stood up one after another.

Hall rose with them, casually brushing off his clothes and stretching as he headed for the exit.

He restrained the urge to approach the soldier and cozy up to him. It was too soon, and his identity was still that of a “lowly commoner.” Though commoners here seemed to hold relatively high status, rashly contacting a noble’s private soldier would only invite suspicion. Even if he tried to bribe the soldier, their loyalty was so strong they might betray him immediately. He had to proceed carefully.

Above all, he must not let anyone detect anything unusual about him.

On the way out, someone greeted him—a fellow member of the 25th Battalion he’d worked with for several days. They knew each other’s names but not much else.

This was a newly formed production and construction team (a strange name, Hall thought), so it was normal that they didn’t know each other well. To avoid suspicion, Hall responded warmly and chatted about recent production tasks. Naturally, the conversation shifted to the just-ended battle.

Everyone around was talking about the same thing. After all, the battle had just concluded, and it had been an unforgettable fight. It was only natural for people to discuss it to ease their nerves.

There was nothing suspicious about that.

But Hall remembered his mission. He couldn’t just make small talk—he had to use this opportunity to gather information about the territory. He asked about the origins of the monsters and where the weapons used against them came from.

At the same time, he couldn’t just ask questions. Others might also bring up topics, and as an excellent spy, Hall knew how to think on his feet. He could quickly fabricate smooth answers based on his observations, guesses, and understanding, so no one would suspect he was an outsider fishing for information.

After a brief chat, Hall skillfully steered the conversation away to avoid raising suspicion. Then he looked for a chance to slip away unnoticed and find a moment alone.

The dormitory was relatively safe, but not ideal now—most of his roommates had probably already returned. So he took a detour toward the dormitory’s restroom.

There were plenty of toilets here, each with stalls. At first, Hall had found this strange: this territory forbade relieving oneself anywhere but in toilets, and the lord had invested heavily in building numerous toilets and sewers, as if obsessed with cleanliness. But by now, Hall had adapted to these odd rules and even found them convenient.

Inside the restroom, Hall knocked on several occupied stalls before finally finding one empty. He slipped inside quickly, closed the door, and locked it.

He pulled out a charcoal pencil and a note he’d hidden on him. After ensuring no one was nearby, he began writing a secret letter:

“To my master:

I have settled in as a construction worker. This place is developing rapidly, with a population exceeding ten thousand. Today, there was a monster attack, reportedly…”

He tried to describe what he’d seen as accurately as possible, though it was difficult. He had witnessed so many unimaginable things that even as a skilled spy, he struggled to find the right words. Still, he finished the letter and carefully concealed it on his person.

Soon, merchants from the Carol territory would pass through here, some bearing secret marks. He would wait for his contact among them to slip the letter out.

After confirming everything was secure, Hall stood, deliberately making some noise with his clothes, then opened the stall door and stepped out.

Someone else emerged from a neighboring stall—a regular construction worker.

Hall nodded and greeted him; the man nodded back, showing no suspicion.

And so, the members of the 25th Battalion moved about the residential area, chatting, disguising themselves, gathering intelligence from those around them while also leaking information. Except for a few intelligence agents planted among them, none truly understood the situation in Cecil territory. Yet, miraculously, countless pieces of intelligence about Cecil were brewing and spreading among them.

Some of it was firsthand observation, but much more was… who knew who had first imagined it, then spread it throughout the battalion?

Meanwhile, the soldier who had led the meeting left the 25th Battalion and headed to the military district, entering the Military Security Intelligence Bureau’s headquarters.

Inside the office, two men dressed in winter work uniforms were reporting to Amber—they were intelligence agents embedded in the 25th Battalion.

Their report left Amber stunned.

Cecil territory was built atop the ruins of a Gondor city? The monsters were summoned by a mad ancient mage from the Dark Mountains? The weapons used against the monsters were secretly smuggled in from the Silver Empire?

The bizarre 25th Battalion, through internal speculation, rumor, and misinformation, had concocted a fantastical version of Cecil territory.

Even Amber couldn’t help but exclaim:

“Just like the old man said—this is a miracle born from nothing…”

(End of chapter)