Chapter 955 — Each Faring Well

Her father was not like her. She knew only how to solve problems the way a soldier did, whereas her father had broader learning and more supple means. If it were her father, surely he could have handled the present tangled situation with ease—whether facing the strangeness of the Church of the God of War, or the scheming between the factional nobles, or... the bewildering new relationship between the Empire and the Cecilians.

After a few seconds of silence, the young wolf general shook her head and began the rather laborious work of composing her words. It took her a long time before she finally finished this reply to Princess Matilda—

"The letter has arrived. All is well at the border. I will remember your reminders. I am very interested in what you mentioned, but I will not be coming back for this year's leave—next time for certain.

"Anluo Wendell."

Night had already fallen, lamps lit within and without the fortress. Anluo let out a long breath and wiped the sweat that was not there from her brow, feeling more exhausted than after a whole day of charging and killing on the battlefield.

There was one thing her father had over her—his clerical ability...

...

"Oh, Mr. Bard—just in time, here is today's handover sheet." A young technician rose from the desk where the magic-net terminal stood and handed a document bearing tables and personnel signatures to the middle-aged man who had just entered the room, while giving him a somewhat surprised once-over. "You're here this early today?"

Bard Wendell, in the uniform common to the technical staff, showed a faint smile, took the handover document, and nodded. "Nothing to do back in the dormitory. Might as well come over and look at the data."

As he spoke, he lifted his head and surveyed this "monitoring room"—several high-powered magic-net terminals stood in neat array across the vast chamber, and in one corner were installed two immersion pods that were still quite expensive even now. A number of technicians were monitoring data beside the equipment, and a low, faint humming echoed softly through the room.

"You ought to cultivate a personal hobby—play cards with everyone now and then, kick a ball around, that sort of thing," the young technician muttered. "Isn't it boring, cooping yourself up in the dorm all day writing and calculating?"

"I like writing and calculating—to me it's more interesting than cards," Bard said offhandedly, and asked in the same breath, "Any gains today?"

"Of course—not. When is the luck ever that good?" The young man shrugged. "Those signals come and go like ghosts; whether they show up seems to depend entirely on their mood. All we can do is listen passively here—who knows when we'll catch the next one."

At that, he couldn't resist glancing at Bard again, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. "Speaking of which... I really never expected you to settle in so fast with the 'Listening Group.' I thought you were only here to help out for a few days before heading back to the Druid Research Institute."

Bard's gaze lifted from the handover forms. He slowly sat down beside his equipment, then shook his head with a smile. "I'm fairly confident in my own capacity to learn, and the monitoring work here isn't especially difficult for me. As for the Druid Research Institute... I've already submitted my application. Next month my file will be transferred out of there for good."

"Why?!" The young technician's eyes went wide with astonishment. "You're a scholar of three oak leaves there—your treatment must be far better than here!"

"...I don't want to deal with those things anymore, for certain... personal reasons," Bard said with a touch of hesitation. "Of course, I know druidic craft is very useful, which is why I joined the Institute back when they were most short-handed. But the technicians dispatched from the Imperial Capital have now arrived, and Lady Beiyila is leading the new research team—they no longer lack an ordinary druid like me."

There was a faint note of self-mockery in his tone.

"All right, since you've made up your mind." The young technician glanced at Bard and spoke with some helplessness.

He did not, in truth, know what background and history belonged to this somewhat withdrawn colleague whose past was a mystery. As a "listener" transferred from elsewhere not long ago, by the time he arrived this man before him was already a "veteran" of the Solin region's technical department. He had only caught the odd scrap from others' lips—that this man called Bard seemed to have a very complicated past, that he had even once been a Typhon... but these were no more than idle gossip of no consequence.

The young technician was not the sort to dig eagerly into another's past—and besides, he was off duty now.

His colleague departed. The others in the room busied themselves with their own affairs. Bard finally let out a soft breath, settled into his own workstation, and let his attention fall upon the holographic light projected by the magic-net terminal.

The placid background noise formed a uniform, faintly glowing "curtain" upon the holographic projection, and upon it there was nothing at all.

Bard took up the small earpiece from the table beside him and set it to his ear.

The resonance crystal set within the earpiece received the monitoring signal relayed from the Solin Hub—a stretch of sound, gentle and seldom varying, that echoed quietly and sank, little by little, into Bard Wendell's heart.

It called to mind the breeze of the Greenforest Valley, and the chorus of insects that rose and fell on summer nights at the Longbranch Manor.

Today's monitoring might again yield nothing—but this stillness was, to Bard, already the greatest gain of all.

...

"A tour of Tarond... rest assured, Speaker Anqian has already entrusted this matter to me!" Meitzen said to Gaodai with a smile, looking rather pleased (probably because the extra work came with overtime pay). "I'll take you to see the landmark districts of Tarond, from the hottest arena of late to the ancient Stele Plaza—and if you like, we can even visit the Lower City... The Speaker has given me very high clearance. I imagine that apart from the Upper Sanctum and a few major administrative departments, which are off-limits to wandering, you may go wherever you wish."

As she spoke, she seemed suddenly to recall something and hastily added: "Oh, right—Noretta will be coming too. After all, she's the dragon clansmember who's had the most contact with you apart from me. You remember her, don't you? Noretta the White Dragon."

"Of course I remember," Gaoyan nodded, speaking as he followed Meitzen out of the palace of the Council Headquarters. The bright lights scattered everywhere beside the plaza outside the palace illuminated the broad road ahead, and a continuous chain of lights stretching down from the mountaintop reached all the way toward the city on the plain; the city's twinkling, multitudinous lights even gave Gaocen the illusion of having crossed over once again, so that he blinked involuntarily and turned his gaze back to Meitzen. "But where are we going now?"

"Before we formally take you sightseeing, naturally we must first settle our honored guests' lodgings," Meitzen said with a smile, looking at Gaoyang, Virodai, and Amber, who was somewhat drowsy. "I'm sorry to say Tarond has no guest palace like the 'Autumn Court' set aside for foreign envoys—but if you don't mind, you're all welcome to stay at my home for the next few days. It's a private residence, but my house is actually quite large."

"Of course we don't mind," Gaoshao said at once. "Then we shall be imposing on you for the next few days."