As large-scale battles temporarily co to a halt, the attention of the dukes within the Empire shifts back to their respective territories.
Sigmund is busy replenishing the army and reselecting the Blood Knights, once again rejecting the insane thod of selection proposed by his roommate.
Much of the funding for rebuilding the army cos from selling the delicious "wine".
Of course, they’re all Level 1 and Level 2 deliciousness, and the quantity released is strictly controlled. Despite all these restrictions, it still brings him enormous wealth.
Even a prince traveled all the way just to try to get so good goods from him.
Such astounding profits naturally attract countless covetous eyes.
Recently, overt and covert investigations have followed one after another.
Among all the coveters, the one that makes Sigmund feel like a thorn in his side the most is Mofulei.
This head of the Emperor’s intelligence agency wields the Empire’s most elite spy network.
In the field of covert intelligence warfare, Sigmund knows he is at a complete disadvantage.
Until now, he can only confirm that Mofulei’s subordinates are already active in his territory, but he has almost no idea to what extent they have investigated or how much key information they have gathered.
But this is not the most troubleso part.
The real problem lies in that Mofulei, to a certain extent, represents the will of the Emperor.
Although Sigmund is ninety percent sure that this is just Mofulei using his position to cause trouble for him, to take revenge for that day’s council, he still doesn’t dare to easily attack spies directly under the Emperor.
If things get blown up in front of His Majesty, Mofulei may get punished, and the Emperor might even give Sigmund so compensation to appease him.
But the action of "recklessly killing the Emperor’s spy" would itself beco an indelible stain on him, with endless repercussions.
Therefore, the best solution is to let the other party co back empty-handed and voluntarily give up, but Sigmund estimates that they have probably almost cleared out everything on his side.
"Spies? Surveillance? Don’t worry, little Sig, they won’t find my way."
Said his roommate, and Sigmund could only pray that this ti he would be reliable.
...
Sigmund was troubled by Mofulei, but compared to the predicant Eleanor faced, his worries were nothing.
Eleanor was exhausted, her face showing signs of fatigue, and she couldn’t even drink much of the essential daily blood.
The first major blow ca from Sigmund’s so-called "delicious wine".
This stuff dealt a head-on blow to her high-end blood industry, which she had managed for years.
The ticulously crafted "premium beverages" she had worked so hard on, known for their llow taste and rich layers, were now worth nothing compared to genuine [delicious].
Her products fell from apex luxury to "slightly better than ordinary goods".
Nowadays, any Blood Race mber with so status and wealth is scrambling to get a few cans of [delicious] to try.
Those who couldn’t get a quota or couldn’t afford it grudgingly rembered Eleanor’s products, with prices far below what they used to be.
Originally, when Sigmund saved her in a crisis last ti, she was ready to put their previous conflicts behind.
But Sigmund’s move cut off half of her source of wealth, and she now despised Sigmund more than ever.
Eleanor had tried to send people to find Sigmund’s source of goods.
However, any spy who managed to find a valuable clue ended up disappearing without a trace.
She couldn’t understand when Sigmund’s counter-espionage thods beca so formidable.
Now, her only remaining advantage seed to be a large output and relatively stable supply.
However, this so-called advantage was also facing a severe test.
The previous war of aggression against the United Kingdom ended in mutual destruction.
The troops that returned were all defeated remnants, and Eleanor’s plan to take advantage of the chaos to acquire a batch of quality captives to replenish her "raw materials" fell through.
But that wasn’t a fatal problem; the West Coast of the Kingdom was still continuously sending her captives.
Recently, however, that line broke.
There were Chis in the sea!
Perhaps related to the retreat of the fog and the rise in magic power concentration, a type of group demon known as Chis appeared in large numbers in the sea, crazily attacking every sailing ship.
Eleanor had already lost a total of seven slave transport ships!
Faced with Chis, she was helpless, and her navy specialized in transporting slaves was no match for these creatures.
And if choosing to transport overland, it poses a risk of being hijacked by humans, not to ntion the lengthened journey, increased costs, and potential risks from Sigmund; it was simply the worst.
The only solution Eleanor could think of was seeking aid from His Majesty the Emperor.
However, this brought up a third troubleso issue.
Previously, the Emperor had ordered her to search for the Holy Scripture again, appointing Sigmund to assist.
Sigmund acted very perfunctorily, only sending a few insignificant subordinates.
Of course, this wasn’t the primary issue.
The real issue was that the search mission itself was deadlocked from the start.
In the past, they located the Holy Scripture using a special material from the sa source as its cover, using the faint distant perception between the two to roughly determine its location.
But this ti, that perception thod failed.
After the order was issued, Eleanor quickly ford a new search team, led by a trusted subordinate heading south.
But within two days, the team returned.
Because the perception indicated, the Holy Scripture had inexplicably appeared in the north.
Since then, its location began to jump irregularly between north and south, sotis even pointing towards the Dwarf Mountains or Elf Forest, or even the sea.
Clearly, the current holder of the Holy Scripture had cracked this positioning thod and was interfering with it, causing it to fail.
The task of finding the Holy Scripture had already failed before it began.
Such a significant mission was making no progress, and if she focused her energy and requests on her slave business now, even Eleanor knew His Majesty wouldn’t let her off lightly.
So, none of the three problems could be resolved.
Under the trendous pressure of this dilemma, Eleanor quickly beca haggard.
Now, her weight was only one-sixth of Sigmund’s.
Yet, she didn’t know that at least the Chis problem was easy to solve.
...
At sea, Jiro and Tanaka were piloting a dium-sized vessel across the dangerous waters where Eleanor had lost seven slave ships.
But unlike Eleanor’s fate, although the sea was full of huge waves, there was no trace of any Chis.
Tanaka stood on the deck, looking around, then quietly asked the Foxman beside him, "I understand hiring Snake-n, given their natural advantages in exploring underwater cities."
"But bringing along these Puki... what’s the idea? Aren’t these spore-spraying creatures just a waste of Magic Potion?"
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