Chapter 45

Back at the Tavern

After a long day, Zedd turned to Reina and said, "Let's go back to the tavern."

Reina nodded silently, still looking a little weary from the day's work. Zedd motioned for Elara, who was still resting against the tree, to join them.

Reina gently shook Elara's shoulder, causing her to stir and slowly open her eyes. She blinked a few times, disoriented from her nap, but when she saw the others standing up, she quickly regained her composure. "What time is it?" she asked, stretching out her arms as she stood.

"Time to go back," Zedd replied, already starting to walk toward the tavern.

Elara and Reina followed behind him, and together they made their way back through the quieting streets. The journey was short, and soon they arrived back at the tavern. The atmosphere was more relaxed now that night had fallen, the flickering lanterns casting soft, golden light along the cobblestone streets.

Inside, the tavern was still lively, though quieter than before. The warm, cozy glow of the hearth invited them to relax. They found a table near the back and sat down to eat.

Food was quickly brought to the table, and the three of them began to eat in silence, savoring the simple meal. Zedd picked at his food but kept his eyes focused on Elara, his gaze lingering as though he were lost in thought.

Elara noticed and narrowed her eyes. "What are you staring at, dirty pervert?" she said, her voice playful but tinged with annoyance.

Zedd smirked and leaned back in his chair, unphased by her words. "Don't question my righteousness," he said in a low, calm voice. "Don't forget, a few nights ago, when you two passed out from exhaustion in the middle of the forest, I didn't leave you there."

Elara huffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We remember."

Zedd's lips twitched into a faint smile, but he didn't press the issue. He finished his meal in silence, occasionally glancing at Reina, who seemed to be eating at a much slower pace than Elara. Her eyes were dull from fatigue, but there was something gentle in her expression as she ate, a quiet energy about her that Zedd had come to appreciate.

Once the meal was finished, Zedd rose from the table, wiping his hands on his cloak. "I'll head up to my room," he said, his tone casual, though his mind was already preoccupied with other matters.

Elara and Reina headed to their own room, leaving Zedd to his thoughts.

A Quiet Room and a Dead Agent's Secrets

Back in his room, Zedd walked to the bed and sat down, staring out the small window that faced the darkening sky. He could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from downstairs, but they seemed distant, almost irrelevant. His thoughts were focused on the events of the previous night, the dead shadow agent, and the items he had retrieved from the body.

He retrieved the items from his cloak, carefully laying them out on the bed. The pocket notebook, 30 silver coins, a few gold coins, a pocket knife, a pair of kunai, a vial of poison neutralizer, and a handful of medicinal herbs.

Zedd surveyed the items methodically, his mind already working through what to do with them. The herbs and poison neutralizer were of no immediate use to him—he had plenty of both in his possession already. He could sell them, of course, but there was no rush. The gold coins, too, were practically useless to him in this small town unless he exchanged them for silver.

But the weapons... the pocket knife and kunai—those were worth keeping. They were practical, functional. A good backup in case things escalated, which Zedd knew they would.

His focus shifted to the notebook. It was the most intriguing item.

The first page was filled with encryption, and Zedd's sharp eyes quickly identified it as a homophonic substitution cipher. He smiled to himself, admiring the simplicity of the code. Within moments, he had deciphered the key, and the rest of the notebook's contents began to unfold before him.

Zedd's military academy uniform found in the south.

Zedd chuckled softly to himself. His plan to ditch his military academy uniform in the southern region had worked better than he'd anticipated. It had thrown them off his trail, buying him valuable time.

He continued reading, uncovering more details.

Four shadow agent squads dispatched to the south.

Dead drops and information exchange areas where couriers from the academy collect intel from shadow agents.

The knowledge he had just uncovered was priceless. He had access to secret locations, dead drops, currency exchange points across different regions. The shadow agents' identities, their assignments—everything. All of it was there, written in the coded notes.

Zedd's eyes scanned the information with growing satisfaction. He committed every detail to memory before he tore the notebook into pieces and tossed it into the trash. It was better that way—no evidence to link him to the academy or the shadow agents.

He stood up and walked over to the window, watching as the night deepened. The town outside was still, save for the occasional figure passing through the streets.

With the notebook decoded and the information burned, Zedd felt a sense of accomplishment. But there was more to do. There always was.

The Dead Drop

Zedd quickly left his room, his footsteps quiet as he moved down the stairs and out of the tavern. The cool night air greeted him, and he breathed it in deeply, his mind already working through the next steps.

He made his way toward the town's market, where he found a small stall selling medicinal herbs. A man in his late 60s, hunched slightly with age, sat behind the counter. Zedd approached him, offering the medicinal herbs and the vial of poison neutralizer.

The old man eyed him suspiciously at first but then handed Zedd a few silver coins in exchange. Zedd accepted them with a slight nod, turning to leave. But as he did, a new thought crossed his mind.

He knew how the shadow agents worked—their communication was always fast, secretive. But it also had its flaws. And Zedd, with his sharp mind, had figured out a way to exploit them.

He found a piece of paper and began writing. His handwriting was clean, precise as he crafted a message that would send the academy's agents in the wrong direction. It stated that Zedd had been spotted in a small village in the northern region, a false trail that would mislead them for days.

Once finished, he folded the paper neatly and made his way to the dead drop location, where a courier would be waiting. It was just before nightfall, the perfect time.

The courier was there, as expected, standing by the usual spot. Zedd handed him the paper without a word. The courier, an unremarkable man in his mid-30s, took it with a nod and left immediately, disappearing into the night.

Zedd watched him go, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The academy would be chasing shadows now, while he continued to move forward, unimpeded.

He chuckled under his breath as he walked back toward the tavern, the weight of the evening's work already starting to feel like a distant memory.