Chapter 283: Shifting Tides

In the second week after the defensive battle ended, the first batch of operatives sent out by the Military Intelligence Bureau began trickling back into the territory. They returned not only with the personnel Amber had requested but also with the intelligence Gawain had asked for.

It turned out that these operatives—people who had always lurked at society’s margins, accustomed to dealing with all sorts of riffraff—were truly gifted at gathering information. Though they lacked the extraordinary abilities of the Royal Shadows, they made up for it with cunning and crafty tricks. In some of the darker corners, their sly methods proved even more effective than the Royal Shadows’ supernatural powers.

In the lord’s study, Gawain listened as Amber reported the intelligence. It was a bit embarrassing—many of the first batch of operatives hadn’t even completed basic education; some couldn’t read or write at all, or only barely. So their intelligence transmissions relied entirely on a bizarre mix of rat-like secret codes, shorthand, and oral messages. This chaotic method actually suited Gawain’s demands for secrecy, but it meant Amber had to sort through and organize everything beforehand. Because of this extra workload, Amber was starting to look more and more like a proper intelligence chief—at least she still showed up at the Intelligence Bureau to get some real work done.

“Our trade caravans are spreading throughout the entire southern region. The trade routes are open, and merchants themselves are excellent messengers—just as you planned,” Amber reported seriously, relaying the observations of Scarface Anton and others scattered across the south. “Also, a new batch of merchants recently headed east—Padric seems intent on selling potions in the lands of the Loren family.”

“Padric was never meant to be just an advisor to a viscount’s domain. His business acumen and boldness are rare talents. Expanding alchemical potions eastward was my directive,” Gawain nodded. “Anything else new?”

“There are two things that concern me,” Amber frowned, unusually serious. “First, the Cult of All Things’ End and the Sleeper’s heretics have been increasing their activities all over the southern region. Merchants from the central areas have also brought news of cultist shadows in the Holy Spirit Plains, the western kingdom, and even the northern territories. Lords across the kingdom are scrambling to crush these cults within their domains.”

“All Things’ End and the Sleepers…” Gawain blinked. “They haven’t shown up near the Cecil territory since winter began. I almost thought those bastards had quieted down… but they’re actually more active elsewhere?”

“Exactly. More active, as if plotting something big,” Amber shook her head. “And the second thing is related—the cults’ evil deeds have escalated so much that the Holy Light Church has become unusually active. Many local churches are sending out more battle priests and paladins, with more clergy helping local lords combat the cults’ spread.”

“That’s their job,” Gawain said calmly. “Holy Light is a natural nemesis to all negative forces. Whenever evil spreads, the church’s clergy are always the first to charge in.”

“If they were just running around fighting cultists, that’d be fine. But recently, a rumor has been spreading in the west,” Amber said with a knowing look, “Because the Holy Light Church reacts fastest and most effectively against cultists, dissatisfaction with other sects is growing—especially among the Blood God and Shadow sects, which are inherently weaker against evil and have somewhat darker attributes. Their position is becoming increasingly awkward. Anton and his group heard folk rumors near Viscount Hosman’s lands that none of the gods of the various sects can handle the fallen, and only the Holy Light God truly protects mortals…”

Gawain’s brow furrowed. “Is this rumor widespread?”

“For now, it’s only around Hosman’s lands. But once winter ends and trade picks up, news will spread fast. If cult activity continues and the church’s stance doesn’t change, this idea will soon become mainstream.”

Gawain nodded. “Yeah… such rumors always spread fastest. Can we trace where it started?”

“It seems to have arisen spontaneously among the people. After all, the facts are clear—other sects always react a half-step slower to cult threats than the Holy Light Church,” Amber shook her head. “But as the Chosen of the Shadow Goddess, I just have a feeling the Holy Light Church is up to something…”

“You’re jumping to conclusions—” Gawain glanced at the half-elf who always claimed to be a Chosen. “But I think the church is up to something too.”

Amber’s eyes widened. “So you’re just like me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a Chosen,” Gawain waved his hand and quickly changed the subject. “These things shouldn’t affect our territory.”

“Probably not,” Amber agreed. “We only have one Holy Light priest here, and he’s the kind you’d expect—I’m not worried he’ll brainwash everyone with holy light. I’m more worried that if a war god’s church missionary shows up, they might get into a fight with Light.”

“Anyway, stay alert. We can’t ignore changes outside. If the Holy Light Church or the cultists are planning something, they won’t just leave Cecil’s lands out of it. By the way, how are the first batch of operatives doing? I remember you set some kind of assessment for them…”

Amber’s face lit up. “You almost made me forget! Those guys really are the cream of the crop. They’re excellent in the field. I gave each of them eighty silver coins for expenses, and the lowest amount returned was still over ninety…”

Gawain nearly spat out his tea. “What!?”

“The best was Jipri. She pretended to be a magic apprentice sent by her mentor to find gifted children, and managed to mooch off the Carol Viscount’s household for days. If she hadn’t remembered her mission, she might have even tricked the Viscount’s only son to come along…”

“Damn!”

“‘Quick Legs’ almost became a local lord’s bodyguard. To get a target out of prison, he infiltrated the guards and accidentally did too well…”

“Umm… anything else?”

“Anton made contact with a dozen potion merchants near Viscount Hosman’s lands who want to join Cecil’s territory. If you think it’s suitable, I can hand this over to Padric…”

Gawain was speechless.

It was clear Amber’s crew was full of hidden talents. Though their training in Cecil’s lands and the duke’s certificates they carried helped a lot, their natural knack for opportunistic mischief was something no training could teach.

But while marveling at their talents, Gawain couldn’t help but worry a little. “They won’t cause too much trouble and blow their cover, right? You know the most important thing for intelligence operatives is secrecy. If they’re too active and stand in the spotlight, it’ll backfire.”

“Don’t worry, they know that well,” Amber said confidently. “First, they strictly act according to their cover identities, never doing anything out of character. Even if someone notices, it only reinforces the false identity. Second, they never forget the ‘cleanup’ I taught them—they appear and leave their targets in reasonable ways, never arousing suspicion. Lastly—do you think every lord and their advisors are as sharp as you? They’re pretty dull and don’t pay attention to commoners’ affairs. Aside from their titles and wealth, anything commoners do is ‘foolish nonsense’ to traditional nobles. They don’t have the comprehensive household registration and strict personnel management you have in Cecil’s lands, where even one extra person must be reported to the administration on the same day…”

Amber’s words made Gawain realize she was right. Outside Cecil’s lands, where else had such strict population control and registration systems? Lords often didn’t even know how many people lived under them, let alone the complex concepts of espionage, counter-espionage, infiltration, and counter-infiltration that had been refined on Earth. Though spies and intelligence work existed, they were primitive or limited to noble-on-noble rivalries. No one had considered a multi-layered intelligence network from bottom to top. Otherwise, how could the many spies sent by southern nobles into Cecil’s lands be so easily exposed?

“This is good. The Military Intelligence Bureau’s first results are quite impressive,” Gawain smiled, leaning back comfortably in his chair. “This is your achievement, so…”

“Give me six or seven more days’ pay, and that bottle of Bockel wine from your cellar. Oh, and a little vacation too…”

Gawain glared at the half-elf, feeling her shamelessness had just skyrocketed. Before he could finish his encouragement, Amber had already drawn up a list of demands…

Probably prepared before even coming to report.

Meanwhile, far from Cecil’s lands, deep within an ancient dungeon, another group was watching the shifting situation.

They wore high priest robes stripped of any specific religious symbols, standing in the dungeon’s assembly hall. Overgrown flesh and plant matter sprouted everywhere, but these twisted cultists were accustomed to the eerie, terrifying atmosphere.

After a brief silence, a woman entered the hall. She wore green priestly robes and was strikingly beautiful, her upper body shapely. But beneath her robes writhed a mass of strange, unsettling roots and vines supporting her movement.

She scanned the gloomy room with a hint of mockery and spoke, “Gentlemen, have you not reached a conclusion yet?”

A priest of the Cult of All Things’ End grumbled, “High Priestess Beltira, you’re late.”

“It doesn’t matter. Your previous discussions were useless anyway,” Beltira smiled faintly, unconcerned as she took her seat. “It only shows that the Ansu-Typhon war we’ve worked so hard to ignite is about to dissolve into nothing, isn’t it?

“Gentlemen, accept the truth…

“In the wasteland, unexpected changes have occurred…”

(End of chapter)