As large-scale warfare temporarily came to a pause, the attention of the Empire’s dukes shifted from the great war back to their respective territories.
Sigmund was busy replenishing his army and selecting new Blood Knights, once again refusing his brain-damaged roommate’s proposed gu cultivation selection method.
A large portion of the funds for rebuilding the military came from selling the delicious “wine.”
Of course, these were only LV1 and LV2 grade delicacies, and he strictly controlled the quantity released. Despite all these restrictions, it still brought him enormous wealth.
Even the Crown Prince had traveled a great distance to visit personally, just to squeeze out some better goods from him.
Such astonishing profits naturally attracted countless covetous gazes.
Recently, probing attempts and investigations, both overt and covert, had come one after another.
Among all those with designs on him, the one who made Sigmund feel most like a thorn in his back was none other than Maufrey.
This head of the Emperor’s direct intelligence agency commanded the Empire’s most elite spy network.
In the intelligence field’s shadow war, Sigmund knew he was completely at a disadvantage.
So far, he could only confirm that Maufrey’s subordinates were already operating in his territory. As for how far they’d investigated and how much key information they’d obtained, he knew almost nothing.
But this wasn’t even the most troublesome part.
The real problem was that Maufrey represented the Emperor’s will to a certain extent.
Though Sigmund was ninety percent certain this was just Maufrey abusing her authority to make trouble for him on her own initiative, seeking revenge for that day in the council, he still didn’t dare easily kill the Emperor’s direct agents.
Once the matter blew up and reached His Majesty’s attention, Maufrey would be punished, and the Emperor might even provide Sigmund some compensation as appeasement.
But the act itself of “arbitrarily killing the Emperor’s agents” would become an indelible stain on his record, with endless future troubles.
Therefore, the best solution was to make her return empty-handed and give up voluntarily. But Sigmund estimated his side had probably already been thoroughly investigated.
“Spies? Informants? Don’t worry, little West—they can’t trace my channels.”
His roommate said this, and Sigmund could only pray he’d be reliable this time.
…
Sigmund was being driven to distraction by Maufrey, but compared to the predicament Elinore currently faced, his troubles were nothing.
Elinore was now utterly exhausted, her face showing weariness. She couldn’t even drink much of her daily required blood.
The most immediate blow came from Sigmund’s so-called “delicious wine.”
This thing had dealt a devastating strike to her carefully cultivated high-end blood industry.
In the past, those “top-tier beverages” she’d painstakingly created with rich taste and complex layers were simply worthless before true [deliciousness].
Her goods had instantly fallen from luxury items at the pyramid’s peak to “quality goods slightly better than ordinary products.”
Now, any vampire with some status and wealth was racking their brains trying to get a few cans of [delicious] to taste.
Only those who really couldn’t secure an allocation or were too poor to afford it would reluctantly remember that Elinore still had goods here, offering prices far below what they used to.
Originally, after Sigmund rescued her in that crisis, she’d been prepared to cast aside past conflicts.
Then Sigmund pulled this move, cutting off half her income. She hated Sigmund even more than before.
It wasn’t that Elinore hadn’t sent people to find that bastard Sigmund’s source.
However, whenever agents got close to any valuable leads, they would always disappear without a trace in the end.
She couldn’t figure out how that guy Sigmund’s counterintelligence methods had become so formidable.
Now, the only advantage she had left seemed to be massive production volume and relatively stable supply.
And even this so-called advantage was currently facing severe challenges.
The previous war invading the United Kingdom had ultimately ended in mutual devastation.
Those who retreated were all defeated remnants. Elinore’s original plan to take advantage of the chaos to purchase a batch of quality prisoners to replenish her “raw materials” had also fallen through.
But this wasn’t a fatal problem—the Kingdom’s west coast was still continuously sending her prisoners.
However, recently even this line had been cut off.
Qisi had appeared in the sea!
Whether or not it was related to the mist’s retreat and rising magic concentration, a colony creature called Qisi had emerged in large numbers in the ocean, madly attacking all sailing vessels.
Elinore had already lost a full seven slave ships!
She had no solution for Qisi whatsoever. Her navy specifically for transporting slaves simply couldn’t defeat these bugs.
If she chose to transport them overland instead, firstly there was the risk of humans intercepting the cargo, secondly the extended route would drastically increase costs, and she might even have Sigmund squeeze her by the throat. It was utterly terrible.
The only way out Elinore could think of was to appeal to His Majesty the Emperor for aid.
However, this involved a third thorny problem.
Previously, the Emperor had ordered her to search for the holy text again and assigned Sigmund to assist from the side.
Sigmund was extremely perfunctory about this, merely sending a few insignificant subordinates to go through the motions.
Of course, this wasn’t the key issue.
The key was that this search operation had been stuck in an unbreakable deadlock from the very start.
In the past, they’d located the holy text by relying on a special material from the same source as the holy text’s cover, using the weak proximity sensing between the two to roughly determine direction.
But this time, this sensing method had failed.
After the order was issued, Elinore quickly formed a new search team, led by a trusted subordinate heading south.
However, within two days, the team returned.
Because the sensing indicated that the holy text had somehow appeared in the north again.
After that, the holy text’s position began jumping irregularly between north and south, occasionally pointing toward the Dwarven Ranges or Elf Forest, even pointing out to sea.
Clearly, this locating method had been cracked by whoever currently possessed the holy text, who was using some means to interfere and render it ineffective.
The mission to find the holy text had already failed before it even began.
With such a major task making no progress, if she now placed her energy and appeals on her own slave trade, even with Elinore’s understanding she knew His Majesty would never let her off lightly.
Thus, three problems, and she couldn’t solve a single one.
Under the crushing pressure from all sides, Elinore rapidly withered away.
Now, her weight was less than one-sixth of Sigmund’s.
She just didn’t know that at least the Qisi problem was very easy to solve.
…
On the open sea, Kiro and Tanaka piloted a medium-sized vessel across the dangerous waters where Elinore had lost seven slave ships.
However, completely unlike Elinore’s experience, though large waves continued on the sea surface, there wasn’t a single sign of Qisi.
Tanaka stood on deck looking around, quietly asking the foxfolk beside him: “I understand hiring snakefolk—after all, we’re exploring an undersea dungeon, they have natural advantages.”
“But bringing along these Puchis… what’s the point? Aren’t these creatures that only spray spores a pure waste of mana potions?”
(End of Chapter)
