While Murphy and the survivors were rescuing people among the ruins of Cadman City's outer district, in another place—the one that had directly caused the disaster in Cadman City—the Pioneer Legion's fortress in East Prussia, Major Fraser was standing his last watch.
He was still dressed in a crisp military uniform, even the insignia on his collar perfectly arranged. He was on duty in the fortress's classified intelligence room, and a neatly packed suitcase sat at his feet.
His shift would end in four hours. After that, he could go home with the first batch of soldiers being sent back.
As one of Marshal Loren's trusted favorites, personally promoted during the Ten-Year War, Major Fraser had not been treated poorly. The general had spoken with him yesterday. When he returned to duty after three months at home, he would be promoted to lieutenant colonel.
At that rate of promotion, with his family's support, he might even become a brigadier general before he turned fifty.
It was practically like riding a rocket.
Unfortunately, he probably wouldn't have many more chances to rise so quickly. The war was over.
"I wonder if the young lady my family arranged for me will enjoy hearing my stories from the military?"
The major flipped through the documents, his thoughts wandering.
No matter how composed he was, he was still a young man. Besides, his family's letter had made it clear that he had a very important mission during his three months back home.
He had to hurry up and get married!
Ideally, he'd find a match and marry within a month, then get the matter of having an heir settled within three. That way, even if something happened to him on the battlefield, Major Fraser's family—one of Xilan's old noble houses—wouldn't be left without an heir to its main line.
The major was rather helpless about it.
He was ambitious, and Marshal Loren had "whipped him into shape" during the Ten-Year War. He firmly believed that before becoming a brigadier general, spending time on anything else was a waste of his life.
"Major, urgent military business!"
The messenger's call interrupted Fraser's daydreaming. The moment he heard the words "urgent military business," the major straightened up and sprang to his feet like a coiled spring. He grabbed his cap and hurried after the messenger to the psychic communications room next door.
A blurry reconnaissance image was being projected across the surface of the instrument before him. It was powered by a psychic orb and mounted on an extraordinarily complex base.
A military psychic in a black uniform was sweating profusely as he painstakingly adjusted the view. He looked like a desperate post-production editor frantically piling on filters and sharpening pixels, trying to make this hopeless image clearer.
But all the young psychic's efforts had clearly failed.
"What happened? Where is this?" asked Major Fraser in a grave voice. He was in charge of intelligence.
"It's Transia. Cadman City, Major," the psychic immediately replied. "The psychic tides there weakened an hour ago, enough for us to observe them. On the general's orders, we conducted a long-range reconnaissance of the area.
"But look."
He pointed to the blurry image of the reconnaissance spell.
It looked like a pile of pixels. The major had no exceptional talent for psychic arts, and he frowned.
It was obvious he had no idea what the psychic wanted him to see.
But Fraser had been working in intelligence for years. Even without seeing the image clearly, he could guess what the psychic meant. His expression changed as he asked, "Is something wrong in Cadman City? Did the Astral Rift fail to achieve its intended effect?"
"No, the Astral Rift definitely succeeded!
"That city is beyond saving. In a week at most, it'll be nothing but a pile of rubble floating in the Astral Plane. But, Major, we found a group of people gathered near the edge of Cadman City."
The military psychic gave up trying to repair a mass of pixels that would have defeated a million post-production editors. Instead, drawing on his professional expertise, he pointed to several dark spots in the image.
"Here, here, and here! Although the Astral Plane's psychic interference is so severe that we can't get a clear image, I can assure you, based on my professional expertise, that at least four hundred people are moving around here."
"Four hundred?"
Major Fraser narrowed his eyes. After a moment's thought, he said, "Could they be civilians who survived the Astral Rift? Cadman City had a hundred and fifty thousand blood thralls. Even if the entire city was destroyed, it's possible a few hundred survived, isn't it?"
"That is possible, but their movements don't make sense!"
The young psychic in black shook his head stubbornly.
"If they were civilians, then our psychic scans should show them scattering in all directions as they fled. But you can see for yourself: these people are moving together!
"They also seem to have established a camp in the safe zone at the edge of the Astral Plane's influence.
"Major, forgive my bluntness, but someone is organizing them.
"Or worse, they're remnants of the Blood Eagle Clan!
"Perhaps the Blood Eagle Clan wasn't completely wiped out!
"Those vampires may have escaped the disaster somehow. And the more frightening possibility is that this could be a self-rescue operation by the Blood Eagle Clan!"
Major Fraser's expression grew serious at this conclusion.
He stared at the mass of pixels, which was too blurry to make out, and said with a headache, "I'll report this to General Loren at once. Get ready. The general may want to hear your report. Your name is Heru, right? I remember you're from Antani and that you're a promising reconnaissance psychic. So do your best to make this mess clear enough for an ordinary person to see in twenty minutes!
"You're a promising psychic. I'm sure you don't want General Loren to call you unprofessional, do you?
"That could leave a terrible mark on your internship record with the Legion. Do you understand?"
The psychic's expression changed. He glanced at the psychic display beside him, and his face immediately fell.
He understood just how important this was. The problem was, how on earth was he supposed to fix this pixelated mess when his career depended on it?
Nearly an hour later, another important figure in the Pioneer Legion arrived at General Loren's office under military police escort.
The old knight Finock had already returned from Transia to recuperate at the Pioneer Fortress. He wore a linen shirt and smelled faintly of alcohol, but the great oak blade, wrapped in sword cloth, was still strapped to his back.
The dutiful military police should have confiscated his weapon, but the exhausted-looking General Loren merely waved them off, telling them not to bother.
The Old Church's saints were as stubborn as boulders, scarcely less stubborn than dwarves. They would never give up their weapons. Besides, old Finock wasn't carrying an ordinary weapon.
That blade was sacred to them. It was proof of their faith.
"Finock, I know I promised to find a place for the surviving veterans of the White Oak Warband after the war. I'm still willing to honor that promise, but I'm afraid you'll have to leave at once."
General Loren sat in his chair with both hands braced on his desk. Major Fraser and the black-clad psychic, who had all but collapsed from trying to fix the image, stood beside him.
The stern half-dwarf general spoke to the silent old knight. "Something has changed in Cadman City. We've discovered information suggesting there may be Blood Eagle remnants there. To prevent complications, I need you and your best hunters to arrive within three days and conduct reconnaissance."
"Three days is fine, but how far do you want us to go?"
Old Finock looked up at General Loren.
"More specifically, who's the target?"
"Who else? The Blood Eagle Grand Duke, Salokdar Collinsman Lasombra!"
The half-dwarf general irritably lit his pipe. He had personally declared the Blood Eagle Clan's destruction to mean the war was over. Now Cadman City seemed to be stubbornly defying his control, and General Loren was very displeased.
He exhaled a puff of sharp, rich smoke through his nose and said gravely, "If the Blood Eagle Grand Duke is dead, bring back his body! If he isn't, then make sure he is! The White Oak Warband's pardon petition is already on its way to Mist City. Under normal council procedure, you and your dwindling veterans might have to wait two or three months for a reply.
"And the most likely outcome is a half-hearted compromise.
"But if you can bring King Louis the Blood Eagle Grand Duke's insignia—
"With that achievement, I believe your group, which has given so much for the country during the war, will surely receive an amnesty from the Gorse Palace."
"Fine!"
The old knight agreed without much hesitation. He nodded to the general and turned to leave, but General Loren called after him.
"Wait, Finock. Major Fraser will be going with you."
"That's unnecessary, General Loren."
The old knight spoke bluntly.
"I'll take only thirty of my best hunters. Most of the veterans will stay in camp as hostages, so you needn't worry about us deserting. Besides, the major is just an ordinary man.
"He won't be able to endure the hardship of crossing the Andmar Hills to reach Cadman City in three days."
"I don't distrust you! Finock, we've known each other for over forty years. Damn it! I thought we were friends."
General Loren slammed his fist against the desk, seemingly hurt by his old friend's words. Then he waved Major Fraser and the psychic out of the office.
Once they were gone, Marshal Loren hopped down from his chair and walked over to old Finock. He lowered his voice and explained, "You're good hunters, but you're not good at writing summaries or reports. Major Fraser specializes in intelligence. He'll help you write a polished report that will go straight to King Louis's desk.
"Believe me, given your situation, that matters.
"Besides, Fraser comes from the Cape family. They're the most steadfast royalists. They and their allies hold seventeen seats in the Grand Assembly. Right now, in every province of the kingdom, their factories are producing a steady supply of materials for the Pioneer Legion.
"If things take the worst possible turn, the friendship and protection of the Cape family will be enough to save you poor souls from being hunted down and wiped out.
"Understand?
"To be frank, Major Fraser is going along to pad his record.
"A promising young man I've taken a liking to needs a fine military achievement for me to give him as a wedding present. As for you, once the war ends, the country will have no more use for you, and I won't be able to protect you anymore.
"You need a new patron if you want to live safely in the kingdom as free people.
"The Old Church's remnants don't have a good reputation.
"Even if you don't care about yourself, think of your hunters."
With no one else around, the old knight wasn't so cold anymore. He sighed and spoke quietly to General Loren.
"But we're loyal, you know that, Loren! You watched that absurdity unfold ten years ago. You know we've been loyal from the very beginning.
"I don't matter, but these young people shouldn't have to suffer for this!"
"I know. I believe you, but others don't."
The half-dwarf general shook his head.
"The Old Church's betrayal was settled as fact ten years ago, Finock. You have to accept that. Listen to me: do this job well! His Majesty is wise. He'll see the truth and give you loyalists a chance.
"I'm certain of it.
"Make sure Fraser stays safe!
"That young man has talent. He's not like those stubborn Xilanese nobles who make me sick."
Outside the office, Major Fraser saw the black-clad psychic beside him covering his face and crying. He took out a handkerchief and handed it to him, offering some helpless comfort.
"Don't cry, Heru. The general may be strict, but he praised your perceptiveness."
"But the general said I was unprofessional. He even said my reconnaissance spell was worse than his eleven-hundred-year-old grandfather's eyesight. I'm never going to graduate now. Waaaaah!"
The young psychic wept bitterly. Despairing, he said, "I was the hope of my whole village. Now I've made a complete fool of myself. Major, you're a good person, but you don't have to comfort me. My life is already over. I'm going to find my fellow townsmen and get horribly drunk.
"Ah, I just hope my little aunt doesn't laugh at me."
"Captain! The warband leader just summoned all the veteran captains! It seems like there's an urgent mission!"
At the military camp outside the Pioneer Fortress, Witch Hunter Captain Natalie was eating a cold midnight snack after finishing her recovery training. Amber, a scout who shared her barracks, hurried up to her with a limp, looking all mysterious.
Amber wore a black eyepatch over the eye injured during the earlier interrogation. She leaned down with a serious expression and whispered to her captain.
"I heard some of the others passing around rumors. The warband leader might be choosing an elite team for another mission."
"Hm? Where to?"
Natalie set down her spoon and pushed back her hair, revealing the scars on her cheek and around her eyes. To be honest, the scars didn't ruin her overall appearance. If anything, they made her look even fiercer.
The gray-haired witch hunter girl the players talked about asked in a hoarse voice. Amber hesitated, then whispered, "I have a fellow villager who's a reconnaissance psychic with the Pioneer Legion. General Loren called him unprofessional, so he was in a terrible mood. He got drunk and started babbling, and I overheard some details.
"The mission is probably a return to Transia!
"Specifically, Cadman City. General Loren seems to want to confirm that the Blood Eagle Clan has been wiped out, but our warband leader hasn't summoned us."
"We have to join!"
Natalie immediately clenched her fist. Everything that had happened in Morland Village and the Smuggler's Woods had lit a fire in her heart. She said gravely, "We have to settle our grudge against the vampires ourselves! I'll go talk to the warband leader. You go find Norman and Porter. We have to take part in this operation!
"That Murphy—
"For old Joe's soul to enter Avalon's sanctuary, I have to catch the culprit!"
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