Chapter 607 — The Month of Revival

"Only some of them—the Easterners burned two-thirds, the royal nobles probably burned less than a third, and most of the rest were simply dumped into mass graves, or even left in the wilderness. Even though their respective high lords issued orders that all bodies must be burned and all altars purified with holy water, you know how poor the execution efficiency of those lower-ranking knights and noble soldiers is," Amber said, already guessing Gao Yang's thought. "You think the Ember Shadow cultists are using the bodies left after their sacrificial rituals as a source of contamination?"

"Dark druids are extremely skilled at spreading plague through flesh and remains..." Gao Yang spoke rapidly. "But no, there's still a problem... that still doesn't explain why they absolutely had to 'inform' after the sacrifices... that actually causes some of the bodies that could have served as contamination sources to be burned and purified!"

Gao Yang had already risen from behind his desk. Frowning in thought, he slowly paced back and forth, trying to guess the Ember Shadow cultists' intent in insisting on exposing the remains, altars, and strongholds after the sacrifices. And in the midst of this fruitless pondering, a thought suddenly struck him: he thought of how both Victoria Wilde and Edmund Morn were among the "wise ones" of the traditional nobility, and of the orders they might issue upon receiving intelligence about cultists—

"After cultist intelligence is discovered, do the local lords and their guard knights have to go to the site in person?!"

"Yes, that's the order Duchess Victoria gave, and Edmund Morn has a similar one—it's to prevent lower nobles and knights from doing a perfunctory job, to ensure they at least visit the site in person..." As Amber spoke, her pace suddenly slowed, and her remaining words finally coalesced into a single exclamation: "...Oh my god..."

Gao Yang drew a slow breath. "Something terrible is about to happen—when cultists voluntarily expose the altars and strongholds they've spent years building, it means their ritual has reached its final step."

In his heart, he cursed silently: Damn it, everyone has walked right into the pit!!

Who would have thought that the final step of the sacrificial ritual of those madmen who never stopped chanting about the end of all things would be to inform on themselves?!

"It's probably too late to warn the Duchess and that Prince now. At least half the noble lords and knights in the eastern conflict zone of the Holy Spirit Plain may already be infected by something," Amber said, her tone growing urgent as she too grasped the horror of the situation. "But do you think Duchess Victoria and Prince Edmund might already have realized something is wrong? They're not stupid..."

"They're certainly not stupid, but if the cultists carried out their operations starting from grassroots villages and towns, never passing through the major cities, bypassing all royal direct holdings and secondary fiefs, then in just a month and a half to two months, word from all sides would never reach Victoria's and Edmund's ears at all."

Amber's eyes went wide. "Why?"

Gao Yang looked at her and said, word by word: "Because 'my vassal's vassal is not my vassal.'"

Then he returned to his desk and pulled out a sheet of letter paper with practiced haste. "Whether or not there is still time, the North must be warned—send this letter straight to Stonehold Fortress and have them relay it by griffin courier, the fastest griffin courier they have, to the Royal Army and the Eastern Legion. In addition, withdraw every Intelligence Bureau operative working inside the conflict zone. Have them fall back to Stonehold first and hold in isolation—full screening for divine arts, curses, and plague before anyone is permitted back inside the walls. Arrange the same for the chamber of commerce personnel. As of today, Stonehold Fortress and the Galan Pass are to be sealed completely, and every magical sensory tower along the border is to be set to maximum sensitivity."

As he spoke he wrote out the emergency dispatch at a furious pace, and then, pressing his own seal to it, he went on: "I must return to Xuanyao City—you are coming back with me."

Amber blinked. "And what about the work here?"

"The work here is nearly finished. Bruce Stone and Magister Banner will see it through," Gao Dai said. "What matters now is keeping the Southern Region stable and finding some way to get a grip on the situation in the North. If the Southern Region goes wrong... there will be no more work to speak of."

That said, Gao Yang thought it over carefully once more, searching for anything he might have missed, and finally added: "Have the Suoyou couriers make a run to the western camp. If things in the North really do deteriorate, and Duke Baiyu Franklin has trouble on his side as well, then we take over the work at the western camp."

He was thinking of those cultists hiding out in the wasteland, fearing that the turmoil in the North was merely a smoke screen thrown up by the Order of All Things Ending, and that their true aim was still to sabotage the barrier.

...

At that same hour, in the eastern reaches of the Holy Spirit Plain, within the territory held by the royal house, a small town.

The winter snows were slowly melting away. This year the Month of Revival seemed warmer than in years past, and trickling meltwater ran down from rooftops and towers, leaving nearly every street in the town wet and glistening. The residents who had hidden indoors all winter long came out one after another into the streets, and in this month that stood for hope they thrust a stalk of wheat saved from last year's harvest into each doorway—in Ansor's folk custom, this was a prayer for a year of full bellies.

A pair of elf sisters, their faces nearly identical, strolled through the streets of the town.

They were fair of feature and splendidly dressed, and whether by their striking looks or by their very elven blood, they seemed wholly out of place in so remote a little town—yet they moved through the wet streets with the easy gait of people long familiar with the place.

Some of the passersby seemed to take no notice of the conspicuous pair at all; others would stop and greet them with a smile.

"The season of revival is wonderful," the elf sisters said as they walked and looked about, speaking in unison—whether to each other or in that private "soliloquy" of theirs, it was impossible to tell. "Once the cold days are over, the new shoots will soon come up."

A man in a soldier's armor passed by them, and at these words he slowed his steps a little and bowed with a gentleman's slight inclination. "That's right. The new shoots will soon be coming up."

"Your new armor is lovely."

The elf sisters laughed happily and went on their way down the street with light, swift steps.

Along both sides of the street, young women were setting the wheat stalks straight in their doorways, men were mending farm tools, craftsmen were drinking and chatting, and an apprentice came yawning out of a house. Every face wore a calm and peaceful smile, and everyone greeted the passing elf sisters.

"Good morning, Miss Lerna."

"Good morning, Miss Fielna."

"Good morning, Uncle Sam—that is a fine beard you have."

"Good morning, Auntie Bobbi. What lovely weather we're having today."

The smiles on the elf sisters' faces were bright and radiant. The farmwife they called Auntie Bobbi stopped fussing with her wheat stalk and straightened up with a trace of bewilderment—but the very next second she was smiling along with them. "That's right. Lovely weather we're having today."

"Seeing the sun on the first day of the Month of Revival means a full belly for the whole year to come," the elf sisters said, their smiles brilliant. "Isn't that so?"

The farmwife's smile grew even brighter. "That's right. A full belly all year..."

Everyone smiled brilliantly.