What are you writing?
After the day's tests were over, Ed saw Duolin writing furiously in the castle.
The castle had a large unused area, so Ed assigned several guest rooms to the guards and promised to build them individual cabins.
Ed also discovered that Duolin was indeed a diligent and hardworking guy. With the energy boost provided by the Symbiotic Tree, he was always methodical and persistent in whatever he did.
On the other hand, since Ed moved player trading to the intranet, Seraphina's only activities besides creating accounts for new players are observing human performance art and sleeping. Oh, and learning new knowledge from Ed is also an option.
However, overall, Seraphina's sleeping time still accounts for too much of her total time. Ed has reason to believe that if Seraphina were as diligent and hardworking as Duolin, she might have become a notorious and powerful dragon before the outbreak of the Demonic Tide, instead of a progressive dragon of the new era who makes a living by robbing, money laundering, and kidnapping.
While this does make him easier to manipulate, it also makes Ed feel like he's wasting his talent.
Upon seeing that the visitor was the " Son of God " of the Second Holy See, Duolin quickly bowed and said:
"It's a report to the Holy See."
He pointed to the neatly written words on the letter spread out in front of him:
"Besides filling the vacancies of those five clergymen, the College of Cardinals also gave us the secondary task of finding out their deaths. Since you have already informed me of their cause of death, I should still report this matter to avoid arousing their suspicion. This will also buy more time for the Second Holy See and prevent premature exposure."
You've got a lot on your mind...
Ed thought to himself, then nodded in satisfaction and looked at the contents of the letter:
[Respectfully addressed by the College of Cardinals of the Holy City:]
The cause of death has now been determined to be burning by dragon flames, as were the former bishop, tax collector, and three priests of the White Wax Town Parish.
Several parishioners claimed to have witnessed a Black Dragon attacking the bishop and his entourage, and that it was an interception and killing rather than a coincidence, suggesting it was likely murder.
Witnesses say the Black Dragon calls itself " Nige Ganhuo," which should be its real name. Therefore, we request the College of Cardinals to conduct an archival investigation.
Bishop Duolin of the White Wax Town Parish, August 10, 908 AD
Ed's lips twitched, feeling slightly embarrassed by the " Nige Ganhuo " he had casually made up earlier.
But this is for the best. Just as Ed said when he brainwashed Duolin, tracking down an enemy that doesn't even exist is the best way to delay the enemy.
Similarly, reporting Nige Ganhuo" could also delay things in the Holy City.
Ed looked at Duolin with more admiration. This guard from the Holy City was not only devout in his faith but also humble and eager to learn; he was simply a model of a believer...
I don't know if I've led the other person down a path of no return.
"Your Excellency, do you think there's anything in this letter that needs to be revised?"
Ed shook his head:
"That's good. Don't forget to write one to Yiden too; we can't be completely uninformed there either."
"Clear."
Ed returned to his room and mentally reviewed the map that had been explored so far.
All the humanoid bodies that Ed created, as well as the NPCs he gifted leaves to (except Seraphina ), can share his field of vision.
Everything they see is silently recorded by Little Green and drawn into an official map.
This somewhat dim-witted symbiote perfectly fulfills the responsibilities of the GPU, handling this type of simple multi-threaded task with ease.
Therefore, the area Ed can see at this moment is no longer limited to the Baron's territory; the exploration by players and the logging by Duolin and others have all expanded the map's scope for him.
On this map, Ed can already see the river flowing past the castle and heading south through White Wax Town.
With few horses available nowadays, water transport seems like a viable option.
The nights in Dragonborn Village are always quiet. For the Dragonborn, a mutated race with boundless energy, the intense blacksmithing during the day effectively depletes their energy, leaving them little free time to argue and fight with each other.
Two guards are patrolling separately on the wall surrounding the village.
Just then, a rustling sound reached their ears, growing louder and clearer, as if countless tiny claws were scratching at the ground.
The two Dragonborn guards were stunned for a moment, then their faces lit up with ecstatic joy.
"It's the traveling merchants! The Traveling Merchant Has Arrived!"
The brazier on the wall was the first to light up, followed by the portly clothing store owner, who was most sensitive to this.
One by one, the Dragonborn lit torches, and their drowsiness vanished in a very short time.
The villagers dressed and left their homes, coming to the street and near the gate of the wall, waiting for the man who could make decisions with a single word to give the order.
The village chief of Dragonborn Village had been standing on the wall for a long time, watching the tall, mobile fortress slowly approach his village in the night.
Compared to the entire Dragonborn Village, the approaching creature was clearly not large or imposing enough, but to consider it a means of transportation would be quite absurd.
A massive, movable cube, as tall as three people and several meters square, would attract attention anywhere it is placed.
A plank extended from the edge of the fortress's top, slowly lowered into the night, and finally rested on the wall of Dragonborn Village, forming a passageway.
A man peered out from above the fortress, looked down at the densely packed Dragonborn below, removed his hat, and bowed.
Friends, have you missed me?
Amid cheers from the villagers and the village chief's permission, a transaction quickly began atop the crowded and noisy wall.
The wide, heavy plank hummed as crates of ore, shimmering with an unusual luster, were unloaded. The villagers, who owned iron smelting furnaces, began dividing their shares according to family and labor capacity.
This is the significance of traveling merchants. The Dragonborn Village, which is based on smelting, cannot actually be completely self-sufficient in terms of minerals, so it still needs to import some from traveling merchants to make up the difference.
The fabrics used in the clothing stores also come from these merchants who dare to venture into this chaotic land.
They drove their miniature fortresses between settlements, doing what horses and makeshift wagons could do before the world descended into chaos.
"This is really good material."
The portly owner of the clothing store stroked the fabric in his hands under the moonlight, and couldn't help but utter sounds of admiration.
"Not bad, right? Buy some, my friend. Even though you Dragonborn do all the rough and heavy work, having a good outfit is still important."
The merchant spared no effort in promoting his goods, but the fat boss, well aware of the Dragonborn's penchant for tearing clothes off and engaging in brawls, was wise enough not to waste his money on such things.