Unraveling the Web of Lies

"Put your hand out. Open it," Renner ordered the soldier in front of him.

The soldier cowered, his eyes nervously shifting, and raised his right forearm with the palm facing up. A small vial, about the size of half a little finger, lay in his hand, with some murky liquid sloshing inside.

"What is this?" Renner took the vial from him.

"It's... medicine to prevent the plague."

"How much did you spend on it?"

"Fifteen silver coins. I know I was wrong, Lord Renner..."

"No need to apologize to me. You should apologize to yourself. Using hard-earned war wages to buy this illegal stuff with unknown ingredients."

"But they all said it's effective."

He realized he had made a mistake and quickly shut his mouth, but it was too late.

"Who said that? Do you know who else bought this stuff? Tell me their names."

The soldier hesitantly reported the names of several pioneers.

"Alright, you can go back now. Don't make the same mistake again," said Renner.

After the soldier left, Elin, who had been watching the scene closely by Renner's side, asked, "Are you just going to let him go like that?"

"There will be further formal punishment. Keeping him here right now wouldn't serve much purpose," Renner replied.

"Show me that thing from earlier."

Without answering, Renner handed the vial of liquid medicine to Elin. As he held it in his hand, his fingertips felt the slight scratches on the glass surface. Although it was supposed to be a medicine for preventing the plague, the bottle had no markings, dosage instructions, or any relevant information.

"It looks like turtle urine," Elin remarked.

"I don't know what turtle urine looks like, but this is definitely fake medicine," Renner said. "Just based on the price alone. The bottles used for genuine medicine like this would cost more than fifteen silver coins."

"Are you saying that real goods like this can still be bought in the adventurer's camp?"

"Of course, many medicines are actually produced by non-military pharmaceutical factories. We buy them and then label them as 'Alliance exclusive.' But the real goods are not affordable for our soldiers, so they can only find some comfort in these small vials. So, I'm not worried about any adverse reactions after they use these medicines, as the sellers of fake medicines also need repeat customers. It's probably just some sugared water. Perhaps the best solution would be to allocate a certain amount of plague prevention and treatment medicine to each soldier, but... if we really do that, the treasury will be emptied in less than ten years."

That morning, Elin and Renner arrived at the outskirts of the adventurer's camp and resolved a brawl between soldiers and adventurers. The soldiers believed that the quarantine house fire was caused by the adventurers' mischief, while the adventurers accused the Alliance of not having enough capability to prevent accidents. The fight involved four individuals, and although each of them had minor injuries, the entire process looked as awkward as children wrestling in the mud. In fact, the main reason they fought was not due to verbal attacks from their respective factions but rather the rumor that "an infected person escaped from the fire in the quarantine house and vanished." Until someone took responsibility for the fear caused by the rumor, they could only resort to fighting to relieve their boredom and anxiety. While soldiers and adventurers might fearlessly face ghouls or abominations on the battlefield, the mere notion of an imaginary infected person roaming freely in their minds planted the seeds of fear.

There was another troublesome rumor: "The fire was set by the Bloodscar Crusader imprisoned in the dungeon." Of course, most people did not know the individual's name. This rumor might have originated from the medical soldier who was bandaging Jemar's wounds in the woods that night, but Elin couldn't blame them. He couldn't confidently assert that it wasn't Jemar who did it because the term "Bloodscar Crusaders" was too sensitive. Everyone knew that the Bloodscar Crusaders despised anything and anyone associated with the plague. Even if it was an infected comrade, they would eliminate them immediately. In their eyes, the quarantine house filled with infected people was synonymous with the source of all evil, and burning it down was considered justifiable. The soldiers had learned from the jailer that Jemar was still alive in the dungeon, which fueled their anger and dissatisfaction. In fact, just before coming here today, Elin passed by the dungeon and saw Jorgen reprimanding several soldiers who were attempting to break into the dungeon with swords.

This second rumor among the adventurers made them doubt the relationship between the Alliance and the Bloodscar Crusaders. Needless to say, such claims would eventually reach the ears of the tribes. When that happened, the one who would suffer would probably be the responsible person, Nehari, right? Well, that's not a bad thing, Elin thought.

The soldiers buying fake medicine were merely a derivative reaction caused by these two rumors. It was like a person suffering from a serious illness, enduring symptoms such as fever, weakness, irregular heartbeat, and infected wounds. Although not all of these symptoms were deadly, there was no doubt that they intensified the suffering. Elin had witnessed the power of rumors in Booty Bay. When seasoned soldiers and adventurers spread rumors, they might not embellish the stories like commoners, but they treated them more seriously.

Elin noticed a male Tauren crouching on the ground, sharpening his knife. He walked up and said, "Hey. Nice knife."

The Tauren didn't even raise his head and said, "Not selling."

"Who said I wanted to buy your knife? I just want to ask, do you know Windi Featherwing?"

The Tauren looked at Elin with a bewildered expression, making him wonder if he had mispronounced something in the Tauren language.

"Human, what do you want with Windi?"

"Oh, I'm one of her customers and wanted to buy some more seeds..."

"Impossible. She has never sold a single plant."

"So, you know her quite well then."

"Windi," the Tauren hesitated for a moment, then suddenly raised his voice, "Of course, I know her! You've come to the right person. The warm breeze of the earth brings news of Windi, and I let the warm wind stay on my shoulders..."

"Okay, okay. Can you just tell me where she is?"

"...I don't know."

"But you said you were familiar with her."

"She's out gathering herbs again, and nobody knows where she might have gone. The Plaguelands are still quite dangerous, sigh. But I believe she's engaged in a meaningful and great work. Look, she even gave me a plant seed."

"Why don't you plant it?"

"Well... I haven't found a suitable place yet."

"The Plaguelands may be dangerous, but you could accompany her."

"Accompany her? Of course, I have no problem with that, and I've mentioned it to her..." The Tauren's tone suddenly became awkward. "But you might not understand, human. Windi is very independent, and she's a druid. She might feel like I'm getting in the way, although I'm not... See this knife? It can easily cut through those obstructing decayed branches. Ah, if I could accompany her, it would be so much better."

He suddenly realized something and quickly cleared his throat. "Anyway, she's not here. She won't be back for at least two or three days. Do you want me to pass on a message?"

"No, it's fine. I'll come back another day," Elin patted the Tauren's shoulder. "Let me give you a little advice. Instead of treating the plant seed she gave you as a memento, why not plant it? It can create more opportunities for communication. Keep up the good work, goodbye."

Elin returned to Renner's side, glanced at his face, and said, "What's with that expression?"

"If I'm wrong, please correct me: I just saw an agent from MI7 giving love advice to a Tauren."

"Don't you often train new recruits too? If those kids can't even hold a long spear properly, do you immediately correct them or just ignore it and let them be? It's the same with what I did. Now, quickly get back your usual perfect smile, Renner. It's an important weapon for building your authority."

A messenger rushed up to them.

"Lord Renner, Lord Elin, Bishop Nehari requests an urgent meeting. He asks both of you to come to his residence immediately."

Elin and Renner exchanged glances. They had already guessed the topic of this meeting.

As with the previous meetings, it involved the five participants. Nehari began with a "self-examination," acknowledging his oversight that led to an unnecessary commotion and put the urn at risk. Then, he swiftly shifted the focus to the core issue: they must adhere to the agreement with the Crusaders and send Jemar to the Sodoriel Bridge. From this moment on, specific arrangements were to be made. This time, it was the meeting where Jemar's promise from a few days ago came up, and even Jemar himself was hoping for the day he could meet with Demitria.

The only one to voice objections was Flint. He requested waiting until they had figured out who the arsonist was before considering returning Jemar. However, as usual, his opinion was ignored by Nehari.

The final decision of the meeting was that Jemar would be escorted to the Sodoriel Bridge by Jojen, Elin, Flint, and Renner, along with a small group of soldiers. The first three were expected choices, and they were all willing to undertake this task, albeit for different reasons. However, Renner had some doubts about the orders he had received.

"You must act as my representative and witness this extremely important matter," Nehari used this irrefutable reason to persuade Renner.

That night, Nehari delivered a speech to the soldiers on the newly repaired town square.

"Thanks to the efforts of the agents from MI7 and the stationed officers, the cause of the fire has been determined," he said. "It was triggered by a lurking ghoul in the woods. Now, this malevolent scourge has been eradicated by our guards and lies in the dust."

Not the Crusaders, not the adventurers, not the tribe, not an accident, but a natural disaster. Listening in the audience, Jojen and the others couldn't help but admire Nehari's ability to use the opportunity to rally the people's hearts. He didn't need to explain in detail how the ghoul had started the fire; all he needed was to use impassioned words to shift the soldiers' attention from logic to emotion:

"This fire, which has left me and all of you so anxious, illustrates how cruel and treacherous natural disasters can be. It shows that we cannot afford to be complacent, for the fruits of victory are hard-earned. It demonstrates that every day, we must unite even more, or else face unexpected setbacks and calamities. To commemorate the sixteen fallen, I suggest that all tents remain unlit tonight. As for myself, I shall pray throughout the night for the souls of the deceased, guiding them towards the promised land under the Holy Light's guidance…"

Sixteen fallen? Are you sure? Elin suddenly burst into laughter. We have to count Coersta, who's still lying peacefully in his bed, to make it sixteen. He didn't bother to hide his laughter because the applause for the bishop began to resound. Many soldiers felt relieved and at ease; the explanation of a natural disaster being the source of the rumors was a perfect answer, as the truth was not their primary concern. They applauded wholeheartedly for the great religious leader. In the dark night, the applause roared and howled, like a person pulling their own hair, scratching their own skin, using manic behavior to fend off an invisible and intangible aura of fear. When everything quieted down, that person would meet death in a withering and decaying dream.