"What is the local grain supply situation?" Perfikot asked curtly, his sharp gaze sweeping over the two officers.
Redcliff imdiately straightened his back, pointing his finger on the notepad as he continued, "90.7% relies on compressed biscuits produced by alchemical factories. Currently, there are three alchemical factories locally responsible for providing basic rations to all the tribes."
He paused, then added, "Only seven tribes occupying geothermal hot springs can maintain a small amount of traditional food production."
Valken suddenly let out a cold laugh, his right hand unconsciously pressing on the saber at his waist: "Those chieftains hiding by the hot springs are now even slaughtering their last cals for food. My scouts intercepted their ssengers seeking help yesterday."
He deliberately emphasized the word "help," a flash of murderous intent in his eyes.
"Help?" Perfikot narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice suddenly turning cold, "Are they still resisting the Empire?"
Redcliff imdiately used a stern look to stop Valken from continuing to speak.
He took a deep breath, his military boot heels lightly clicked together, and reported, "Report to the Regent, according to the latest intelligence assessnt, these tribes have superficially signed submission docunts, but..." His Adam's apple bobbed, his voice slightly tight, "But there is indeed a situation of feigned compliance."
The governor's knuckles were slightly white at the edge of the notepad.
He had prepared a set of perfect rhetoric, intending to package this issue as the "final struggle of remaining forces."
After all, these chieftains now don't even have decent weapons, they can at most make so small moves behind the scenes. He and Valken have already devised a ticulous plan for clearing, just waiting for it to take effect...
But Valken's loose tongue exposed everything to Perfikot.
Redcliff could feel the cold sweat seeping down the back of his neck, flowing down under his uniform collar; he knew too well the bloody ways of the Regent, dubbed the Bloody Count, of the Empire.
Having served in the Northern Territory before, he knew clearly how Perfikot treated those who opposed her.
"Speak in detail," Perfikot's fingers lightly tapped the armrest of the chair, each tap feeling like a knock on the governor's heart: "I want to know what these 'vermin' are scheming."
Redcliff pointed with a wooden stick towards the map hanging in his office, explaining to Perfikot: "Regent, please see, this is the only volcanic zone within the Desert Kingdom, called Black Stone Mountain by the locals. The fertile soil piled by volcanic ash around the volcanic mountain ford by lava and the year-round unfrozen hot springs make it the most fertile land in this deadly desert, even today it maintains the last greenery in the desert."
Beside him, Valken's knuckles were taut and white on his sword: "Those foxes hiding at the foot of the volcano, relying on natural barriers and rich products, have been secretly funding various rebel forces. My scouts have repeatedly discovered them transporting grain and weapons to the rebel camps."
"The most troubleso are those ancient beliefs..." Redcliff removed his monocle, speaking sowhat headache-inducing: "The rebel leaders go to the volcanic hot springs for so-called 'sacred bathing' before launching attacks. Those deluded mobsters firmly believe that the hot spring water can make them invulnerable."
Perfikot's gaze swept over the map, marking the gathering points marked with red circles, each circle precisely encircling a hot spring eye.
Redcliff's voice grew increasingly somber: "Among the seven chieftains who have superficially submitted, more than half have participated in rebellions, using volcanic sulfur to create smoke, lighting it at night to make the ignorant people think it's divine manifestation..."
Valken suddenly let out a cold laugh, his army boot grinding heavily over a grain of sand on the ground: "What divine favor, rely a bunch of mice hiding in the hot springs."
"Sounds more like a swarm of flies hiding in a dung pit." Perfikot squinted her eyes, leaning on her cane with both hands and slowly asked: "Why didn't Her Majesty the Empress uproot them initially?
Even if they surrendered, their lairs should have been overturned completely, or at least those hot springs seized by the Empire, that's what should happen."
Redcliff's Adam's apple bobbed again, his back straight under the military uniform: "Her Majesty... is rciful! After these chieftains voluntarily submitted their surrender docunts, Her Majesty forgave their cris."
"After all..." His gaze dropped slightly, avoiding Perfikot's sharp gaze, the words swallowed back at his lips; as a governor, he knew too well what to say and what not to say.
Perfikot let out a cold laugh, slamming the map shut: "Hah, knightly spirit."
Her tone carried a bit of helplessness.
"Sotis being too particular about these superficialities instead gives the vermin the chance to exploit." She turned to face the raging snowstorm outside the window, saying nothing more, but her clenched fist revealed her inner displeasure.
"Regent, may I ask how you plan to deal with these chieftains and their tribes?" Redcliff leaned slightly, his voice kept low but maintained a clear military tone.
His fingers unconsciously rubbed the hilt at his waist, evidently ready to execute any command.
Perfikot waved her hand casually, her gaze still lingering on the swirling snowstorm outside: "Carry out your original plan. If reinforcents are needed, send a report to , and I'll sign."
Her tone was so flat as if discussing tomorrow's weather, finishing with a slight sneer as if mocking the chieftains not worth her direct attention.
"As you command, Regent." Redcliff's tense shoulders finally relaxed a bit, his boot heels clicked softly, producing a crisp sound.
Perfikot turned around, casually adjusting the collar of her cloak: "I ca to the Desert Kingdom primarily for the exploration of an ancient ruin." She curled her lips into a aningful arc, "Do what you need to do, don't make a special fuss about ."
With those words spoken lightly, both officers understood— the Regent's itinerary isn't theirs to question.
However, Valken still couldn't help but ask: "Regent, would you require to dispatch a guide to assist you in locating the ruins?"
"Regent, what kind of ruins are you searching for? I know a guide whose adventures in finding paths in the desert are peculiar; she would be an invaluable guide for you, Regent." Redcliff attempted to recomnd the guide he knew to Perfikot, she truly was the best at traversing the desert, finding places, and completing any commission.
"A temple depicting the descent of the ice god, preferably the most ancient kind." Perfikot told Redcliff her objective.
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