Crecyda-3

"Niaes," Crecyda lifted the tent flap, bending down to enter. "I'm here."

"Come in," Captain Niaes replied from inside the tent. During the day, her primary task was assigning tasks to adventurers willing to contribute to the refuge valley; engaging in such unofficial work had kept her from promotions for many years. Still, she had earned considerable authority and respect in certain aspects. Whenever matters involved adventurers, military leaders consulted her. Niaes and Crecyda got along well, often sharing tea on calm nights. To ease Niaes's burden, Crecyda usually brought her own tea leaves, but she had to be frugal since giving those five gold coins.

"I heard you only had one meal today," Niaes said after Crecyda settled.

"Ah, really?"

"Don't pretend you don't know."

"I haven't been feeling well lately..."

"Specifically, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, you have two meals, and on the remaining four days, only one meal."

Crecyda smiled as if trying to deflect something. "You know that so well."

"The mess hall server told me."

For management and military funds, outsiders could only dine in the military mess hall and were not allowed to cook for themselves due to "military security." After all, the refuge valley was just a small basin, and facilities were kept to a minimum. Designating areas exclusively for adventurers, like in Andorhal, was impossible.

"No choice," Crecyda admitted, "I have to support four big men. Otherwise, I wouldn't last long."

"They're not just eating your food. Yesterday, I saw Lumei involved in a small gambling game with my soldiers."

"They occasionally gamble, but they don't have other hobbies. I can't demand too much."

"You're thinking about it the wrong way, Crecyda. A competent bodyguard must have excellent self-control, or they won't last in this profession. Not just gambling, even casual drinking is not acceptable. Don't take it the wrong way, but rather than bodyguards, your men seem more like temporarily subdued thugs."

"I've thought about it. After all, I've been with them for two years. But... I couldn't refuse Mr. Durado's kindness back then."

Initially, when Durado, Renner's father, expressed, "I want to find out what happened to him," Crecyda saw a silent flicker in the old cloth merchant's eyes, as if trying to pierce through thick gray mist with all his might. After a stroke, Durado found it challenging to articulate correct sentences, and his face could no longer convey emotions. So, Crecyda was deeply impressed by his reaction at that moment. From a very ruthless perspective, Renner's disappearance had a smaller impact on him than on Crecyda. After all, he had severed ties with his son for over a decade. However, at that moment, Crecyda thought, "He's on my side. We've hated each other for so many years, but only at this moment do we have something to share, maybe a bit late, but better than nothing."

After the turmoil in business, Durado's wealth dwindled, but providing travel funds for several years to Crecyda was not a problem. In fact, besides voluntarily asking for this money, he also offered five full-time bodyguards. Despite his goodwill, it was hard to deny the influence of his long-standing tendency to show off. Since she couldn't refuse, Crecyda decided to make the most of the conditions. The presence of the five bodyguards allowed Crecyda to take bolder actions at certain moments and gradually pushed her into an unexpected position.

After arriving at Western Plague, Crecyda went through futile inquiries and travels. On the fifth day, a sergeant with guards escorted her and the bodyguards to the adventurer camp, warning her not to approach the military camp without permission. "Regarding the issues you raised, they are under investigation," the sergeant said. From the sluggish tone, he didn't bother concealing the insincerity in his words. Although Crecyda lacked experience in political struggles, she immediately understood her situation.

"If you approach the military-controlled area without permission again, it will be considered hostile action, and who knows what might happen then." This was the sergeant's last sentence, also the last sentence Crecyda received from the authorities.

Staying in the adventurer camp seemed pointless, but Crecyda didn't think so. Perhaps out of intuition, she would intentionally or unintentionally mention her purpose to some more amiable adventurers, hoping to gain something. One day, a nurse from a private clinic told her, "I've seen Colonel Renner, he's a very kind person."

Although Crecyda was puzzled why an adventurer camp nurse would have such a personal comment about Renner, she didn't inquire further. After all, she knew not to recklessly touch others' pasts during the Western Plague. The nurse also realized her hastiness and was unwilling to delve deeper.

That night, Crecyda cried – the first time since she stopped receiving Renner's letters. Outside the tent, people were fighting, easily drowning out her faint sobbing. There were some people, strangers, trying to erase all evidence of Renner Marvin's existence; the life imaginations she pieced together from his letters for these years shattered under these people's feet. However, she finally heard an important testimony – "I've seen Colonel Renner, he's a very kind person." In just a few words, each letter was like a resilient and indestructible nail, firmly fixing her almost shattered reality.

Three days later, an elderly woman, introduced by the nurse, approached Crecyda. She had a similar experience – her military son had disappeared. In two months, Crecyda met dozens of people appearing here for the same reasons. She realized she might be part of a collective event. In this reality, what troubled her the most was that, among the disappeared, Renner was the only one different from the rest. In her heart, the uneasy fear gradually overwhelmed the grief.

A person with a similar experience suggested they unite to investigate the matter, and most people responded. Although Crecyda hesitated due to her doubts, these people already regarded her as the most authoritative and representative among them. Driven by a vague sense of responsibility, Crecyda guided them in their efforts to find answers, including inquiring everywhere, spreading information, and writing open letters to the military high command. On the day the letters were completed, the military forcibly expelled Crecyda's group from Western Plague, escorting them for dozens of miles and leaving a bruise on her right forearm. At that moment, she understood she could do little in Western Plague.

But she wasn't ready to go home – not ready to give up like this. First and foremost, she strongly believed that, regardless of Renner's situation, he was definitely not in Western Plague. Moreover, such incidents might also be happening elsewhere; sealing the route to Western Plague didn't mean there were no other paths. She thought that since she couldn't find Renner through the conventional approach of searching for a person, she would try to understand what happened behind this whole thing. It was like following a migrating bird; first, you had to find the flock to which it belonged. Shifting the goal toward a larger direction also somewhat suppressed her personal emotions – she was acutely aware of this. Apart from time, the only way people avoid letting grief overwhelm them is by shifting their focus away, and Crecyda was experiencing just that.

Enduring the complaints of the bodyguards, she reached the refuge valley and met Captain Niaes, discovering similar incidents happening here – even more frequently. Members of the Syndicate liked to collect the insignias of Stromgarde soldiers they killed to show off their achievements. Adventurers would recover these insignias and return them to Niaes. Niaes found that a considerable number of insignias couldn't be traced back to their owners, with no reports of missing or killed soldiers.

Crecyda didn't deliberately connect this matter with her own experience because she knew Niaes's loyalty to the Arathor civilians, and she wouldn't appreciate discussing these potential conspiracy theories. In fact, they never discussed these matters, at most, Niaes expressing her lament for the brave warriors and Crecyda consoling her. But they tacitly understood each other because, as soon as Crecyda arrived at the refuge valley, she was surprised to find her reputation spreading – mostly in not-so-flattering terms, like "the woman who gathers a crowd to accuse the military of hiding soldiers' bodies." Logically, Niaes should have been wary of her, but the two naturally developed a friendship, and Crecyda speculated: Perhaps, deep down, Niaes also hoped for someone to dispel her doubts.

After all, Crecyda had seen how Niaes counted the bloodstained insignias while silently reciting the names of the disappeared.

After the discussion about bodyguards, Niaes said, "About going to Stromgarde and all, I don't think Prince Galin is intentionally making things difficult for you. He's dealing with some troublesome guests."

"How so?"

"Stromwind's MI7, you've heard of it, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"One big shot from MI7... named Jorgen? He arrived at Stromgarde a few days ago, bringing quite a few people. I dislike them. The intelligence organization of Stromwind should manage Stromwind well, so I don't understand their intentions coming to our Arathor City. Prince Galin must be dealing with them, so he doesn't have time to address your matters."

"Jorgen is here? Well, maybe it is..." Crecyda looked at her tea cup as if distracted.

"Do you know him?"

"No, how could I?" She took a sip of tea.

"Hmm." Niaes looked at Crecyda with a somewhat awkward yet curious expression.

Half an hour later, Crecyda returned to her tent and lay down. As usual, sleep didn't come easily. Her heels were a bit itchy, and she scratched them.

Outside was very quiet. In times without warfare, the night in the refuge valley was surprisingly peaceful.

Crecyda began to experience the dreams between half-sleep and half-wake. She knew she was dreaming, knew she might see things she didn't want to see, but she couldn't stop it. After all, passing this test was the only way to truly fall asleep. She heard the sound of the tent being lifted, initially thinking it was a hallucination. However, a cold wind directly hitting the soles of her feet woke her up.

She turned over, opened her eyes, and saw a figure standing beside her. She was about to speak when a muddy hand covered her mouth.

"Quiet, milady," Lumei said.