Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 323 - 322: Intelligence

Upon hearing Soldrin’s words, Gawain’s first reaction was one of shock: "Were you cut by an evil cult? You crossed the Typhon border once, weren’t noticed by the Typhon army, yet got cut by cultists?"

"A lot happened..." Soldrin sighed lightly, "Even after traveling the continent for seven hundred years, unexpected things still happen..."

"Sit down first, have a drink and rest," Gawain gestured for Soldrin to sit down and rest, while frowning at the dark red bloodstains already dried on the other’s clothes—a powerful High-Ranked Ranger Sir somehow acquired the usual black cloak and dark brown jacket often worn by adventurers, without any signs of damage on them, but the blood seepage and dry marks indicated that the wounds had not healed for a long time. "Amber, go get Pittman—ask him to bring the ointment for treating toxins. Don’t jump out the window..."

As the half-elf young lady pushed open the window and streaked a black light straight towards the southwest, Gawain retracted his gaze from the outside and stared into Soldrin’s eyes: "With your strength, how could you be injured to this extent? What kind of cultists did you encounter?"

"Oblivion Association," Soldrin smiled bitterly, stating a name that was both familiar and troubling to Gawain, "I was set up... On my way to the monitoring station of the great walls, I encountered a silver elf druid named Belna who was disguised as a cultist..."

The High-Ranked Ranger spent a few minutes recounting to Gawain how he was ambushed by cultists. After finishing, he couldn’t help but furrow his brows and add: "To be honest, I’m a bit uneasy. The Oblivion Association, this fallen druid organization, has always been active, but their main destructive activities are usually confined to human kingdoms and some mountainous kingdoms in the western continent. They’ve never extended their reach to the silver elves... This time, a cultist of at least the powerful Peak level infiltrated the elf monitoring station. I’m worried they are plotting something detrimental to the Silver Empire or even the great walls..."

Gawain pondered and asked, "Have you reported the situation to your homeland?"

"Of course," Soldrin nodded, "After repelling them, I went back to the monitoring station to report the situation to the authorities; the Elven Royal Court is already aware and has stated they will immediately begin an investigation, but you know, with those cultists’ cunning... Their true purpose is often hidden beneath layers of distraction, I’m afraid we’ll only understand when they cause havoc what those brain-damaged individuals truly intend... Initially, I was planning to recover at the monitoring station, but I worried those cultists might have subsequent actions targeting Anzu, so I rushed back to let you know the situation."

At this point, a hint of hesitation suddenly appeared on Soldrin’s face, which Gawain immediately noticed: "Have you discovered anything else?"

"I don’t know if it’s an illusion," Soldrin shook his head, "While battling that cultist, I always had a feeling of being targeted, she seemed to understand my combat style and habits well... If I hadn’t carried some unexpected equipment, I might not have returned so intact."

Gawain raised an eyebrow: "Could it be an acquaintance of yours?"

"I’m not sure," Soldrin shook his head, "The other party used another body and face at that time, it seemed like a form of flesh fusion or devouring fallen Divine Art, which made it impossible for me to detect her real presence, and many fallen druids are fond of using blood magic to reshape their bodies, even if it truly was an ’acquaintance’ standing in front of me, I definitely wouldn’t recognize them..."

At this moment, a knock came at the door. When the study door opened, apart from Amber and Pittman, Aunt Heidi and Rebecca were unexpectedly outside.

"We ran into each other on the way!" Rebecca exclaimed first, "I heard that the Ranger Sir returned, so I came to check!"

This girl’s curiosity is always boundless, and Gawain wasn’t surprised by it, he just glanced at Aunt Heidi with mild curiosity: "It’s rare to see you join in with Rebecca."

Aunt Heidi didn’t answer, just gave a gentle smile and subtly swung the magic wand with blood grooves and eight rams’ horns in her hand, and Gawain suddenly understood: this granddaughter served as Rebecca’s limiter...

"Let me first check your condition," Pittman immediately went into a working state after entering the room, speaking as he approached Soldrin—though usually wandering around the territory to con people out of divination and selling fake medicine, he could prioritize things in critical situations—mainly because not doing so might result in getting slammed against the wall by a Gawain’s leaping attack, "By the way, are you allergic to the ointment made from Witherblood Vine?"

While assisting in removing clothing near the wound, Soldrin shook his head: "Three hundred years ago I was, but now it has resolved."

Witherblood Vine is a magical material commonly used by human druids, very effective in neutralizing toxins in the blood and removing toxin-contaminated flesh, but half of the silver elves are allergic to this herbal material, so Pittman explicitly inquired, to prevent any adverse reactions from the ointment he brought.

"Some allergies can be ’cured’ through adaptive exposure to allergens, but caution is always best when unnecessary." Pittman, like a diligent and responsible professional physician, explained this aspect while beginning to examine Soldrin’s wounds.

Under the cover of Soldrin’s clothes lies a wound that has been poisoned for several days and still hasn’t healed. The flesh there presents an abnormal deep purple-red color, with edges showing signs of blackened, carbonized dehydration, yet the blood seeping from the wound is bright red.

Such bizarre "infection" is obviously influenced by magic.

After examining for a moment, Pittman looked up at Soldrin: "You’re quite strong."

"If I were weaker, I’d have died from the poison long ago," Soldrin smiled, partly speaking to Pittman, partly explaining to Gawain, "The fallen Druids of the Oblivion Association are indeed formidable. I initially intended to exchange injuries to defeat the opponent, but it turned out to be quite unworthy... After the trials of the Gondor wasteland, those who survived mostly have high resistance to toxins, which led me to become complacent."

"Their toxic spells often come with curse and elemental erosion properties; mere resistance to toxins is not very effective," Pittman shook his head, "Luckily, you are a high-ranked ranger, with a strong ability for self-healing. You’ve already neutralized most of the poison yourself, I should be able to handle the rest."

Soldrin silently watched as Pittman took out magic-infused dust, leaves, ointments, and such from his portable wooden case, arranging a small Druid purification altar on the spot, and then began to use spells to dispel the residual cursed toxins in his body. He felt the corrosive elements that had tortured him for days rapidly fading and couldn’t help but say, "Your ritual spells are amazing."

"I’m more skilled at ceremonial Druid spells," Pittman casually said while sprinkling the last handful of magical dust onto the magic circle drawn with ointment, which was burning away under the influence of magical power, "this method of casting is more effective, but it requires more spell ingredients. Remember to compensate me for the cost of materials later."

"Don’t worry, I still have the money for these materials," Soldrin said, half laughing and half crying, "but speaking of which, the term ’ceremonial spells’ is quite old indeed; only a few classic Druid sects still use this term, right? Contemporary Druids have combined ceremonial spells with sacred spells into ’ritual spells’..."

"I’m from the Ancestral Recurrence Sect," Pittman immediately said proudly, his face full of wrinkles, "so my spells and ointments are absolutely authentic, you won’t find them elsewhere..."

He hadn’t finished speaking when Rebecca interrupted him, "Weren’t you from the Forest Heart last time?"

"He’s from Nature and Soul," Amber waved her hand, "don’t believe him; this old fellow has read through books of all Druid factions to swindle money, whichever the customer believes, that’s the faction he belongs to..."

Soldrin was still not quite adapted to the strange rhythm around Gawain, and was somewhat awkward, but fortunately, Gawain proactively continued the topic: "Besides encountering evil cult followers, is there anything else to report?"

"I was about to say," Soldrin nodded immediately, looking around the room and confirming the leaders here are from various departments of the Cecil Clan, he said seriously, "I’ve received intelligence that Winterwolf Fortress on the Typhon border has also been attacked by aberrations."

"Winterwolf Fortress?" Gawain frowned, "If I recall correctly, it’s that fortress guarded by the Wendell clan... currently controlled by Andresha Wendell, that young Wolf General."

"Yes, I was serving in her army before," Soldrin nodded, "The time Winterwolf Fortress was attacked is only a few days apart from the attack on the Cecil Clan. Considering the distance between the two places and the action speed of the aberrations, I suspect the same group of monsters split into two in the Dark Mountain Range..."

Gawain looked towards Amber, who spoke proactively without waiting for him to open his mouth: "The Intelligence Agency hasn’t reported yet—our intelligence network has just barely spread across the southern borders, and for now, there is no spare capacity to penetrate eastwards or further into Typhon."

Gawain nodded, understanding that building an intelligence network isn’t achieved overnight, even with the assistance of commercial networks and the omnipotent alchemical potions business. Setting up the Intelligence Agency’s operations isn’t easy.

"This news is probably already sent to the desks of Francis II and the emperor of Typhon," Aunt Heidi, who is also a quick thinker and unlike Rebecca, has years of experience dealing with various aristocratic forces, also has a keen sense of the situation, "Ancestral One, the situation between the two countries may change."

"Latest by the end of Revival Month, new messages should arrive," Gawain nodded and turned to Amber, "Accelerate the training and dispatching of new operators and pay attention to gathering information from the direction of the Plains of the Holy Spirits. If I’m not mistaken, before resuming diplomatic activities, Francis II will take some actions domestically first."