After confirming communication security, Gawain did not hide the situation from Aunt Heidi but directly ntioned the intelligence he intercepted in dreams concerning the Eternal Sleepers.
This situation obviously startled Aunt Heidi on the other side of the communicator.
"...They should be researching divine evils and are highly likely to be looking for opportunities to release them. The so-called great evolution they pursue is probably turning humans into monsters," Gawain slowly said his conclusion. "Currently, we don’t have the ability to delve into the wastelands to ascertain the situation, nor do we understand how the mbers of the Oblivion Association survive in the wasteland environnt. The main focus at present is on the cult followers hidden in the human world..."
"No need to send additional warnings to the royal capital and the east..."
"Pay attention to all rchants and itinerant people from the northern regions. Strengthen inspections and Divine Arts checks and set up more magic sensing towers along the borders..."
"Instruct the White Sand Mining Company to monitor the area along the White Sand Dunes to Sorinburg, focusing on collecting clues related to plagues, population disappearances, and evil cult rituals. Report any situations imdiately."
Gawain arranged tasks for Aunt Heidi one by one, gradually making the work content clear.
He initially wanted to send another warning letter to the royal capital and the east, but ultimately decided not to proceed with more warnings—
Firstly, he understood the efficiency and temperant of those traditional northern aristocrats. He had issued a warning just a few days ago, and more warning letters at this ti would not enhance the results. Secondly, he could not describe the evil cult followers’ actions too explicitly in the letters sent north. If he explained his intelligence source, it might inadvertently alert the Oblivion Association and make the Eternal Sleepers aware of the heart network’s breach and invasion by the Wanderers from Outer Realm. Thirdly...he trusted his team more than the northern aristocrats’ capability to act.
Later, he would have Amber select elite Intelligence Agency operatives to work with the Cecil Chamber of Comrce’s intelligence system in the Plains of the Holy Spirits to directly gather and monitor intelligence on evil cult follower activities in the northern regions. Those Intelligence Agency operatives were adept at making chaos and flipping tables—if they found traces of evil cult followers, stirring up trouble would naturally attract local leaders’ attention. That’s the best way to get those inefficient traditional aristocrats to take action.
But if this still cannot stop the expansion of evil cult followers’ destruction...then Gawain would have no choice but to let the northern aristocrats fend for themselves.
The power of the Cecil Principality is limited. Duke Cecil’s influence is limited, too. Issuing alerts, sending intelligence personnel to conduct investigations, and applying pressure on the royal family and the east is his utmost capability. He currently has neither legal authority nor the ability to directly interfere in the situations of the Plains of the Holy Spirits or the east. Even if he does intervene, the greater likelihood would be to ignite the situation that has finally cald down, dragging the Cecil Principality into the whirlpool of civil war.
At that point, the project of repairing and strengthening the great walls would certainly be finished, which is the most unbearable cost.
Aunt Heidi listened to her ancestor’s arrangents one by one, able to discern the limitations of these asures and understand the ancestor’s concerns.
After all, the Cecil Principality is only a principality and cannot reach out to the northern regions.
After arranging these affairs, Gawain briefly pondered, his expression not relaxing at all but rather becoming even more serious than before.
Aunt Heidi was observing the changes in her ancestor’s expression and asked cautiously, "Are you worried that the Oblivion Association’s plot... is more serious than spreading a plague?"
Gawain nodded seriously: "They’re not just an evil cult organization."
In the minds of most ordinary people, the Oblivion Association is just an evil cult that appears in rural horror stories, wizard legends, and mythological tales, but having dealt with them several tis and understanding their origin and history, Gawain did not think so. This is a dark sect with the sa age as the human kingdoms, with profound foundation and extensive power, mastering mysterious biotech and plotting dark and unfathomable sches. In these several centuries of operations, they have even infiltrated aristocratic rule. For a nation’s governance and degree of centralization in this era, a dark sect like the Oblivion Association could almost overthrow the kingdom’s order.
"They have always hidden in the shadow of the Anzu Civil War, with traces in the east and battlefield, and I even suspect they have a hand in Typhon’s actions against Anzu," Gawain continued. "Therefore, they must be considered at a higher level, and higher-level arrangents must be made."
Aunt Heidi seed to sense a hint of iron and fire from Gawain’s attitude, causing her to subconsciously hold her breath: "...You an..."
"Convert all funds and supplies entrusted by the royal family and the east into tank production lines. Except for necessary southern garrisons, deploy all chanized troops to rocky ridges Fortress and Gran Region," Gawain laid out plans for the worst-case scenario, his tone serious and cold as the wind. "Adjust the production plan of the First Tank Factory; equip all tanks on production lines four to eight with heavy burners, and notify Nicholas—let him complete the lightening of the White Knight heavy flathrower as soon as possible to quickly produce models that ordinary soldiers can use."
This is Gawain’s way of arranging things.
No matter what dark beliefs and complex conspiracies—if worse cos to worst, it’s a torrent of steel.
Armored troops clearing the way with burners, just bulldoze through.
"Yes."
Aunt Heidi responded solemnly, nodding vigorously.
Indeed, it was the scent of iron and fire.
As the communication was terminated, Gawain gently rubbed his brow, recalling whether he had overlooked anything in his arrangents.
Fire is the best weapon against fallen Druids, and fire imbued with magic power is a weapon among weapons.
Divine evils are magic creations, but regardless of how magical they are, they are fundantally organisms. No matter how much capability or tons of black technology those fallen Druids have, they cannot change this essence. According to the intelligence provided by Kal and Pittman, using fire against them will be very effective.
Even if the divine evils created by the Oblivion Association possess magical properties that can resist the natural world’s fire, the heavy flathrower produced by Cecil sprays "magic fire," which, with enough quantity, can still burn divine evils.
But the cult followers’ research...isn’t just about divine evils, right? Could they have even bigger sches?
Beltira Augustus, one of the earliest mbers of the Typhon royal family, one of the strongest human Druid priests, was once the most devout and firm protector of life.
If the Selena Gerfen of those years was the guardian of the pioneers’ spirits, a harbor for souls and dreams, then Beltira Augustus of the past was undoubtedly the "Saint Princess of Healing" of the pioneers. She selflessly healed everyone from aristocrats to commoners, prolonging the lives of thousands. She devoutly believed in the deities of nature, even though none of her prayers were ever answered. The words that impressed Gawain the most were what she often said after receiving no response to her prayers:
"Even though God hasn’t answered , He indeed brought us the miracle of life healing. This miracle continues in our hands to this day. I am not pleading with Him; I am rely thanking Him."
So what would such a "Saint Princess" pursue if she learned the truth, if she fell and beca a dark priest?
Gawain quietly sorted through the mories from Gawain Cecil, speculating on Beltira’s, or indeed the ultimate goal of the entire Oblivion Association. He had to shield himself from emotional factors in his mories that might affect judgnt, like the positive impression of Beltira, so that he could better analyze.
Half an hour later, he stood up from the desk, approached the window covered in alchemical resin, and cast his gaze into the distance.
He saw the faint illusion of the great walls, the swirling dust storm in the wasteland, and the gloomy chaotic sky. At the end of his sight, he could vaguely make out a grand tower, standing quietly amidst the background of chaotic mist and sky light.
It was another sentinel tower, located to the east, in Typhon.
Regarding Anzu’s civil war, Gawain was almost certain that Typhon was one of the major puppeteers behind it. In the actions of the Typhon Emperor, he could also sense the presence of the Oblivion Association.
Daniel had reported seeing two almost identical twin elves by Rosetta Augustus’ side, whose appearance and synchronized actions resembled twins. This matched perfectly with the elven sisters Gawain saw in his dreams last night.
He contacted Daniel via the mind network late last night, showing him the images of the twin elves, and received an affirmative response.
Would the Typhon Emperor, who has direct connections with the Oblivion Association, know about Beltira Augustus? Would he have any links with her?
They weren’t even very far apart.
Gawain returned to his desk, quickly wrote a letter, sealed it with his personal insignia, and sent Amber to find Sonia, the elven ssenger.
"I would like to ask you to deliver a letter," Gawain said to the hurriedly arriving Sonia, who looked inquisitively at him. Smiling, he handed her the letter sealed with wax, "You wouldn’t mind helping, would you?"
Sonia curiously took the letter from Gawain but didn’t activate her ntal power to perceive its contents. Instead, she raised an eyebrow: "I am a ssenger; delivering letters is within my work remit. But where is it going? You’ve even marked it with the full insignia of the Principality..."
Gawain answered calmly, "To the Typhon camp, to Rosetta Augustus. I’m planning a visit."
Amber, watching the scene unfold, was instantly dumbfounded: "What?!"
"Since the completion of the great walls, the wasteland’s breath has separated each kingdom. The continent has not seen a joint effort like today’s for hundreds of years," Gawain said, sitting solemnly at his desk. "This is a major event of humans joining hands again, the first reunion after years of indifferent separation. Now, with the Typhon camp so close to Anzu’s, I think a visit after eting old acquaintances is the necessary gesture."
Sonia was touched by Gawain’s righteous and stern attitude, couldn’t help but gaze deeply at her old friend, as if seeing the era of stormy weather together seven hundred years ago, when people were united, regardless of race. She gladly agreed to Gawain’s letter delivery request, even offering to deliver it at half the price—
Her remuneration as a ssenger could be waived, but the druid needed at, and for such a close-range flight across the wasteland, the druid also required psychological counseling.
Considering that Sonia was indeed currently the best ssenger available and sending a Cecil ssenger Team to deliver letters across banded flatlands would only result in higher costs, Gawain decided not to object.
After Sonia left, Amber approached Gawain, looking straight into his eyes.
What Gawain just said to Sonia was indeed touching, even worthy of textbook refinent, but Amber didn’t believe it.
That old man is cunning; behind every righteous word is a plot to leave soone unfortunate devastated—Count Hosman’s bones still haven’t been collected entirely.
"Are you planning to directly ask Rosetta Augustus about Beltira Augustus?" The half-elf lady guessed Gawain’s intentions based on her intelligence, "So straightforward?"
"Certainly not so straightforward—it would be tantamount to telling those evil cult followers that it was who invaded their communication system," Gawain shook his head. "I’m rely going to observe, confirm so things, and then... try to do so business."
Amber’s mind montarily stalled, unsure how Gawain suddenly switched the topic: "Business?"
Gawain smiled: "Indeed, business—cross-border trade."
This was precisely his intention, and not a hastily conceived idea.
He had long been planning to contact Typhon—even though Typhon was destined to be Anzu’s adversary, prepared with claws and fangs, ready to devour Anzu’s flesh at any mont, but as far as Gawain, the "transcender," was concerned, as long as Anzu and Typhon hadn’t started the war, he would not mind doing "business" with Typhon.
Consider it a war before the war.
Amber blinked, witnessing the familiar smile appear on Gawain’s face—a smile seemingly no different from usual to others, but she knew that when this old man who erged from the grave smiled, it usually ant he was concocting another plot to consu lives.
And not leave the bones.
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