At the entrance to the bowl-shaped valley, the Tech-Priest's tracked base carved two deep grooves into the snow.
All available equipment has been put into use, and the red light from the sensors flickers uncertainly in the white snowstorm.
Two Sisters of Silence spread out to the left and right, slowly moving along the valley wall. Their eyes, hidden beneath their hoods, swept across every inch of the ice surface, trying to find a trace of Psychic Power in the smoothed-out marks.
Dominic leaned against a sheltered ice rock, stroking the sapphire ring on his middle finger.
It's been three hours.
Aside from the initial faint traces of energy impact and fragmented non-human genetic material, they found no other valuable clues.
The ice was processed too thoroughly.
It was like an endless downpour that wiped away all the evidence in the valley.
They leave only the most superficial and insignificant fragments, just enough to prove "what happened here," but they refuse to reveal any specific details.
"Major General."
The Tech-Priest's synthesized voice was distorted by the wind, and as he turned around, the optical lens dimmed slightly.
"Deep ice sample analysis complete. Energy residues have been artificially neutralized, and gene fragments are too scattered to complete sequence alignment."
"With the current equipment, it's difficult to obtain more information."
Dominic's brow furrowed even more.
He traveled thousands of miles to the Arctic ice sheet, not to receive a "cannot be found" answer.
But the facts are clear: the other party is obviously a master at erasing evidence. It is impossible for an ordinary force to wipe away all the evidence in such a large valley.
He looked up and gazed into the depths of the valley.
The wind and snow grew heavier, and a vast expanse of white obscured the view. The bowl-shaped ice valley, like a silent giant eye, coldly watched the intruders.
His intuition told him that the secret hidden here must be related to Kerry Von.
The timing, six months ago, is too coincidental.
It just so happens that this young man parachuted into Brevis and rose to fame at the Forbidden Wall.
But there's no evidence; it's all just speculation.
Sister Cassandra will stay and assist the priest in continuing the investigation.
After a long silence, Dominic finally spoke, his voice drowning out the howling wind.
"Search everything in the valley. Report to me immediately if you find even a scrap of metal or a piece of unusual crystal."
"Yes."
The Sisters of Silence on the left nodded slightly, without saying anything more.
Dominic glanced once more at the bottomless valley, suppressed his irritation, and turned to mount the six-legged ice beast.
Singapore cannot do without people.
The first batch of recruits is still under quarantine and observation, and the second batch of recruitment has been halted due to the Plague Cleansing Cult. The situation in the Lower City is turbulent, and there are also undercurrents within the St. Garus Family.
As the supreme commander of the Tithe Fleet, he couldn't afford to spend too much time on this desolate, icy plain.
The beast stretched out its six strong limbs and ran back the way it came, trudging through the thick snow.
The wind and snow quickly buried the footprints behind them, as if no one had ever been to this silent valley.
By the time I got back to Star Harbor, it was already dark.
On the bridge of the Gemstone, First Officer Karen was already waiting at the elevator entrance, his face showing an unusual urgency.
"Major General, you're back."
"What happened?" Dominic took off his cloak, which was covered in ice crystals, and tossed it to a guard beside him as he walked away, asking as he went.
" The Brevis Governor's Office has mobilized troops." Karen hurried after him, her tone grave.
"Governor Kerry mobilized 30,000 Vanguard under the pretext that ' Lord Regent Luna of St. Garus colluded with Chaos and established a heretical altar.'"
"Including Prince Leo's private army, they are besieging Saint Garus Castle."
"Martial law is now in effect in the entire western part of the Uptown, and the sectarian extermination operation in the Lower City has also been upgraded accordingly."
Dominic paused for a moment.
Luna?
He recognized the name: the Lord Regent of the St. Garus Family, a representative figure of the old Brevis aristocracy.
At the welcome dinner upon his arrival in Brevis, a member of a collateral branch of the family attended, but Brevis himself did not show up.
He and this woman had never met before and had no connection whatsoever.
But for some reason, the moment he heard that name, he subconsciously thought of those two anonymous letters.
Exquisite parchment and precise intelligence gradually guided him to discover the secrets of the Plague Cleansing Cult and to suspect Kerry Von.
The letter writer was fully aware of Brevis's situation and had a perfect grasp of his character.
Why did he always feel that all of this was somehow connected to the Lord Regent?
"Understood." He continued walking towards the command room, his tone as indifferent as if he were discussing a trivial matter.
"Let Brevis handle their own internal affairs. Our core task is Tithe; don't interfere."
"But sir," Karen hesitated.
" Lord Regent Luna is, after all, a noblewoman appointed by the Imperium, and Governor Kerry directly mobilized troops under the pretext of colluding with Chaos."
"Isn't this... a bit too hasty? What if there's something more to it?"
Whether there are hidden circumstances or not is a matter for the Administratum and the Inquisition.
Dominic sat in the command chair, his gaze fixed on the progress bar for the restoration of cultivation on the planet Dorito on the star map.
"Since Kerry dared to take action openly, he must have evidence to substantiate his crimes."
Even if he doesn't, he'll be charged with something after he finishes fighting.
The internal struggles within the Imperium have always been like this: as long as the final supply of soldiers is sufficient and as long as Brevis's order can be maintained, it doesn't matter who is in charge.
As for whether Luna truly colluded with Chaos...
Dominic's eyes darkened slightly.
His intuition told him that this woman was not simple; even if she hadn't completely succumbed to Chaos, her hands were probably not clean.
"Pass down the order: the fleet must maintain a state of high alert," he finally commanded.
"Strengthen control over the Starport entrances and exits, and prohibit any faction from approaching the castle."
"Let them do their thing, we'll do ours, let's not interfere with each other."
"Yes, sir."
Karen accepted the order and withdrew.
The command room fell silent again. Dominic gazed out the porthole at the brightly lit Uptown and fell into deep thought.
He had a premonition that this storm would not stop at Saint Garus Castle.
The secrets surrounding Kerry Von are certainly not limited to just the Plague Cleansing Cult.
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Dominic once again embarked on his journey to the Arctic ice cap.
A sliver of curiosity gnawed at him like a cat's claws; he wouldn't feel at ease until he uncovered some clues about the valley's secrets.
This time, he only brought one nun with him, traveling light and heading straight for the bowl-shaped valley.
As soon as they arrived at the valley entrance, the Sisters of Silence, who had stayed behind, came to greet them. Her usually expressionless face was now tinged with a hint of solemnity.
"The priest has made a discovery."
She quickly made a hand gesture, then turned and led the way.
Dominic perked up at the news and immediately followed.
Deep in the valley, the Tech-Priest was squatting on a cleared ice surface, his tracks retracted.
His lower body's mechanical limbs were braced in the snow, while his upper body's intricate mechanical hands were carefully fiddling with something.
Seeing Dominic approaching, he looked up, and the optical lens lit up a bit.
"Major General, there's been progress."
"Explain."
Sister Cassandra confirmed that the precise time of the Psychic Power shock was seven months and twelve days ago in the standard calendar, with an error margin of no more than fifteen days.
The Tech-Priest's electronic voice carried a hint of the rigor unique to scientific researchers.
"I retrieved nearly ten years of meteorological data from the Brevis Arctic Ice Sheet, calculated the region's average annual snowfall and ice accumulation rate, and then deduced the ice surface depth six months ago."
He extended his mechanical arm and pointed to the neatly cut cross-section of the ice beneath his feet.
The cross-section is clearly layered, and the ice patterns of varying depths resemble tree rings, marking the traces of time.
At a depth of about one meter, there is a dividing layer that he specially colored.
"This is the surface layer of snow from six months ago," the Tech-Priest explained.
"Most of the residue will be covered by snow and remain at this level."
"The other party cleaned up the biological traces, but they couldn't change the natural law of snow cover."
Dominic crouched down, his fingers brushing against the boundary of the ice layer, the icy touch coming through his gloves.
He had to admit that the Tech-Priest's approach was correct.
No matter how much you clean up the scene, some traces will always remain in the environment.
"What did you find?"
Three samples.
The Tech-Priest carefully used tweezers to pick up three tiny objects, placed them in a transparent sampling dish, and pushed it in front of Dominic.
The first piece was a grayish-black pebble the size of a sesame seed.
The second piece was a pale blue gemstone fragment, smaller than a grain of rice, with a clean break and clearly visible artificial cut surfaces, refracting fine fragments of light.
The third piece was also a gray gravel, and it was made of the same material as the first piece.
"Flint," the Tech-Priest pointed to the two pebbles.
"It also shows signs of repeated polishing, a typical characteristic of primitive stone tools used to make weapons such as spearheads and arrowheads."
"This fragment is blue crystal. After being cut and polished, it should be a necklace, headdress, or some other type of ornament."
Dominic's pupils contracted slightly as he looked at the contents of the sampling dish.
Stone tools, ornaments.
Among the human groups living on the ice fields, only one group knows how to use such primitive objects.
"Wilderness of the Ice Plains," he uttered softly.