Chapter 665: Clues and Progress

“‘Secret Knights’?” Amber had never heard that term before. After all, she had only just managed to piece together the overt noble hierarchy of the Old Kingdom. As for those obviously more clandestine, more specialized titles and ranks—she was completely in the dark. “What do they do? Are they like you, slippery shadow operatives?”

“…Not exactly,” Dark Crow replied, still adjusting to the new boss’s rhythm of speech after only a few days of working together. He hesitated briefly before answering. “Secret Knights are a collective term for the kingdom’s covert nobility—royal shadow guards who have earned special merits. They are extraordinary individuals with blemishes on their records but protected by the king. They serve as the king’s ‘hidden hand,’ directly loyal to him. Some operate secretly on the king’s behalf, trusted deeply but unable to reveal their identities for various reasons. These people are called ‘Secret Knights.’”

“The king grants them surnames as recognition of their service and loyalty, but these names aren’t recorded in the official heraldic registries or noble genealogies. Only direct royal family members and a select few who manage these records know of their existence. Typically, more than half of the Secret Knights are royal shadow guards—the reason is obvious.”

As he spoke, a faint pride flickered across Dark Crow’s face. Undoubtedly, he himself was one of those “secret nobles” with a “secret surname.”

Amber, however, was unimpressed by his pride. “The Ansu royal family, huh… They don’t focus on production, development, or state institutions, but they sure put all their effort into these shady, behind-the-scenes affairs. Just like Old Zong said—after seven hundred years, you’ve definitely come up with new tricks on top of the royal shadow guard.”

“Old Zong?” Dark Crow repeated the unfamiliar term, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a code name. Don’t just throw it around—you might get yourself killed if you use it wrong,” Amber waved it off casually, then gave Dark Crow a once-over. “Anyway, enough about that. Looks like you’re a Secret Knight too? That’s surprising… I didn’t expect someone like you to be one.”

The doubt in her tone was clear. Dark Crow’s face flushed slightly with embarrassment, but he couldn’t very well explain to a “master” who had kicked him out of the Shadow Realm three times in a row that he was also skilled in the shadow arts. This half-elf lady’s shadow talents were absurdly strong; next to her, even a top-ranked royal shadow guard like himself felt like a novice.

If she remained his superior, he might as well give up on excelling in the shadow path… Maybe it was time to consider Duke Gawain Cecil’s old suggestion and go back to practicing two-handed swordsmanship?

Amber didn’t know what was running through Dark Crow’s mind, but she was clearly annoyed by his momentary daze. “Earth to you! I’m talking to you!”

“Oh, right. I… I am a Secret Knight too, having earned some merits during my service to the royal family,” Dark Crow hurriedly said, quickly moving past the topic. “If the person you’re looking for has a noble surname but isn’t listed in the official genealogies, he might be a Secret Knight.”

“I think his surname is made up… but just in case…” Amber clicked her tongue and glanced at Dark Crow. “You have a registry, right? Then get it out already.”

“Yes!” Dark Crow immediately obeyed and left swiftly.

After the former royal shadow guard left, Amber glanced around at the shelves packed with books and files, and at the agents and scholars bustling between them. She clicked her tongue, her ears drooping slightly as if weighed down by heavy thoughts, but she said nothing.

“Director…” a cautious intelligence agent approached. “So… do we keep looking?”

“Of course we keep looking!” Amber snapped, shooting the subordinate a sharp look. “Who knows if that ‘Secret Knight’ registry holds any clues? If not, we’ll just have to keep digging here.”

The agent hurried back to work, and Dark Crow didn’t keep Amber waiting long.

Within just over ten minutes, the former royal shadow guard returned to the archives, carrying several thick, heavy volumes.

“These are registries of Secret Knights who received secret royal titles over the past few decades, along with some of their records,” Dark Crow said as he placed the old and new tomes on the table beside Amber. “Earlier archives are stored in another repository, and anything from before the Mistmoon civil war is even harder to find—there’s a lot of chaos and missing information. If you need those, it’ll take time and manpower to sort through.”

“No need for now. He’s just an ordinary human. Decades will do,” Amber said, staring at the thick books. Her usually confident tone faltered, as if a premonition had crept in. She looked at the black covers as if seeing a blurry, scruffy, and disheveled face from her memories. “Let’s start here. Let’s start here… You all, forget the shelves for now! Come help me search!”

Several subordinates responded immediately. “Yes, Director.”

“Be careful not to damage anything. Some of these books are very old,” Amber warned as she handed out the volumes. “Remember the name: Saril Randolf.”

Soon, the archive room was filled only with the soft, careful rustling of pages.

Amber climbed onto a tall reading chair and slowly flipped through the book before her, confirming each name and the portraits tucked between the pages. She almost held her breath. But after an hour, she found nothing.

Then suddenly, an agent shouted, “Director! I found it!!”

“Let me see!”

Amber took the register from the subordinate. Before her eyes landed on the name “Saril Randolf,” the first thing she saw was a vivid portrait drawn with magical ink—a young man under thirty, black hair neatly slicked back, dressed in formal attire. His features were unremarkable, but his eyes held a trace of world-weary cynicism.

Amber stared quietly at the portrait for a moment, softly murmuring to herself, “Ah… so you were young once too…”

“Is it him?” a subordinate approached cautiously.

Anyone could tell that this person in the secret royal records was connected to their director.

“Yes, he’s my foster father,” Amber muttered under her breath, her gaze quickly scanning the information on Saril Randolf. It mentioned his origins, family members, and some career details—very brief and long since rendered worthless by time. But Amber read carefully until she noticed a black heraldic seal at the bottom of the page, followed by a few words: “Deserted or missing, expelled.”

“What does this mean?” Amber pointed at the seal and text, looking up at Dark Crow.

Dark Crow leaned over to look, frowning slightly, hesitating before speaking. “That seal means he was once a royal shadow guard. ‘Deserted or missing’ is literal. But for royal shadow guards, going missing is treated as desertion—we know too many secrets. If contact is lost and death can’t be confirmed, we’re considered a ‘liability.’”

“Deserted… he was a deserter royal shadow guard?” Amber whispered. “But why would he desert…?”

Dark Crow studied the register for a moment, then said, “If there’s an operation record corresponding to this registry… I’ve seen it before. Wait here, I’ll find it.”

This time, he returned even faster. Within minutes, he brought back an evidently aged file.

“Here it is—the last mission record before Saril Randolf disappeared. Thank heavens it doesn’t involve court intrigue and wasn’t destroyed.” Dark Crow handed the file to Amber, pointing to a slightly faded line of text. She took it and read quietly:

“…Year 690… Sent to the Dark Mountains to search for the Gondor legacy. Did not return. No evidence of death found. Suspected desertion.”

That was all the record said about Saril Randolf’s final mission as a royal shadow guard.

“The Dark Mountains… He went there, then didn’t return to report back to the capital, so he was suspected of desertion?” Amber frowned, her thoughts racing. “No… If we follow royal shadow guard protocol, he really did desert… In 690, he disappeared, then lived in hiding in the southern territories for over twenty years…”

She sifted through all her memories of her foster father, trying to sketch a clearer picture to explain his life path and the choices he made—

A royal shadow guard, deeply trusted by the king, even granted a secret noble title by special decree, sent to the Dark Mountains to find the Gondor legacy, then suddenly deserts without warning. He lives incognito in the southern lands for over twenty years, adopts a half-elf foster daughter, consorts with a shady druid, scams people, and finally gets caught stealing books from a church, executed by local nobles and clergy—dying a meaningless death, like a petty thief…

The turning point seemed to be the “Dark Mountains.”

Saril Randolf went there searching for the Gondor legacy. And now Amber knew clearly—there really was a Gondor legacy!

There was a Rebellious Fortress!

Had Saril Randolf found that fortress? What did he find inside? Or did he fail his mission because he found nothing, forcing him to retire into obscurity in the south?

Logically, Amber thought the second possibility was unlikely. A royal shadow guard granted a special royal title wouldn’t desert just because of failure. The first possibility…

According to Amber’s intelligence, Cecil’s explorers were still active in the Rebellious Fortress and had found no signs of third-party intrusion. Apart from the Cecilians, no one else should have entered that ancient fortress.

But that conclusion wasn’t 100% certain—the fortress was huge, and many areas were hidden or inaccessible for various reasons. Even the commander of the exploration team didn’t dare claim they had mapped half the fortress. Not even Kamail, the “Rebel,” knew how many sectors the fortress had, how many different project teams occupied various labs, or how many experiments were underway to defy the gods and resist the magical tide.

Amber shook her head hard, forcing down the chaotic thoughts. Then she grabbed the files from the table, jumped down from the reading chair, and dashed toward the archive room’s exit.

Dark Crow called after her, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find Old Zong!”

With that, Amber’s figure vanished beyond the door.

Dark Crow scratched his head, looking utterly puzzled—so what exactly did the code name “Old Zongzi” mean?

Meanwhile, in the study of Silverkeep, Veronica/Ophelia was reporting to Gawain on the progress of rebuilding the church’s administrative structure.

“We’ve already spread the divine oracle. The lower and middle-tier believers have unwavering faith in it and haven’t raised significant objections to the various reforms…

“The senior clergy are a bit sensitive—control over scriptural interpretation touches their interests—but the situation remains manageable.

“Halting the heresy trials has helped ease tensions between the Holy Light Church and other sects, aiding the restoration of domestic order. However, there’s a risk that former oppressed followers of the alien gods may harbor resentment and prejudice against the reformed Holy Light Church. We’ll need the Department of Governance’s support in publicizing our efforts…

“The High Patriarch is currently working on absorbing and reorganizing the original Church Knights. Since these orders have suffered heavy losses and are in urgent need of restructuring, the process is going smoothly.”

“That will be all for the church report,” Gawain said once Veronica finished. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Veronica maintained her calm and gentle expression. “What would you like to discuss?”

“Let’s talk about you, Miss Ophelia,” Gawain smiled. “And the Rebellion Plan you know about—I think it’s time we delve deeper into that topic.”

(End of chapter)