As the moon rose overhead, the scorching air began to cool. Tassa sat in the courtyard, gazing at the flickering lights from the windows of taverns, brothels, and gambling dens in the distance. Like stars in the night sky, they illuminated the city's bustling life.
Only in the inner city of the royal capital could one witness such a spectacle—despite nearly a third of the outer city's civilians perishing after the plague, it did not dampen the nobles' revelry in the inner city. If one listened closely, faint weeping could still be heard carried by the evening breeze.
This garden-and-pool residence, purchased for 150 gold dragons, sits on a hillside near the outskirts of the inner city where few wander during daylight hours. Aside from meeting informants and exchanging intelligence, he rarely stays here—instead opting for random inns or spending days at underground couriers' dens.
"Sir, they're all here." A figure emerged from the room holding an oil lamp—it was Hill Fox, hidden within the skull's fingers.
"Light the candle," Tasa nodded and went inside.
Under the dim candlelight, Hill and five others sat around a round wooden table. When the bodyguards appeared, they all rose to their feet and bowed. Tasa observed them with a blank expression, trying to gauge their reliability from their facial expressions and subtle movements. Unfortunately, Miss Nightingale had already returned to Border Town with the fleet. Had she been present, she could have made the most accurate judgment immediately.
They were Hill's allies—the "Doves and Caps" acrobats, vengeful avengers harboring deep resentment toward the new king. A week earlier, the harbor siege had been foiled by a sleeper in the dream waters, allowing Tassar to learn of the rats' nocturnal ambush plan. With the plague outbreak now subsiding, he resolved to meet them in the capital. If, as Hill claimed, they were indeed promising intelligence operatives, then...
"Let's start with Mr.Fox. Everyone else, please introduce yourselves briefly," Tasa said.
"My name is Rock Mountain, sir," the most burly man spoke first, his deep, resonant voice commanding attention. Standing nearly six feet tall with bony muscles bulging on his arms, he declared, "I perform as a strongman in the acrobatic troupe and have now joined Blood Sail." "I'm the clown," said the diminutive man beside Rock Mountain, pointing to his nose. The youngest of the group, he appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen. "I'm a clown in the troupe too, but unlike the rats, I perform small tricks in taverns." "Jom and Neil," followed by two brothers who looked and dressed like typical commoners from the outer districts. They had donated all their possessions to the Priest of Fei Li and were now "devout followers" of the Church. Tasa couldn't help wondering if these two might both have feelings for Hill's wife. Suppressing his curiosity, he turned his gaze to the last person.
"They all call me the Magician, sir," the man bowed again. "I pretended to be a defeated soul drowning in the Dream Water, but most perished or fled. Even 'Fierce Fang' Tanis was killed by the Church's Inquisition Army. Now everyone's scrambling for new targets." "Dead by the Inquisition Army?" Tasa raised an eyebrow. "Weren't they secretly backed by the Church?" "I heard it from others," he said with hands spread wide. "After Tanis's failed siege of the docks, he got ambushed by Skull Finger while returning to the East District. Only dozens remained. That night, he stormed back to the Church with his loyalists, only to find two or three followers left. They say he got into a fight with Priest Fairey, then got shot in the chest by the Inquisition Army... The Dream Water's done for." Tasa realized this must be because their hard-earned power had been wiped out, leaving Fierce Fang's leadership in jeopardy. Seeking Church aid was rejected, sparking conflict. But these were trivial details. What mattered was that the Dream Water now existed in name only. This was good news—he might use it to recruit destitute rats and expand his intelligence network.
"You must have heard my name from Hill," Tasa tapped the table and said solemnly. "I am Roland Wimbledon, Your Highness's personal guard, tasked with gathering intelligence from across the kingdom. Your presence here, in a way, already signals your commitment. But to be clear, I must ask again: Are you willing to serve Your Highness?" "We are!" the five replied in unison.
"I'd do anything to get justice from Timmy K. Wimbledon," Hill added, word for word.
"Very well. From now on, we shall meet here at the same time every week. Should any urgent intelligence arise, you may report it to me in advance—just place a pot of purple flowers at the main gate of the residence," Tasa instructed. "Once I notice, I'll wait for you in the room that evening. Remember to use the secret code' three long, two short 'when knocking. Understood?" Seeing their unanimous agreement, Tasa nodded approvingly. "A qualified intelligence agent never reveals themselves easily. Your primary task is to conceal your identity. Whether gathering intelligence independently or developing subordinates to collect suspicious information, this principle must be remembered. If financial needs arise, you may request assistance from me... Remember, never act rashly. Tefiko will not remain on the throne forever—this is a personal guarantee from Your Highness Roland." He paused. "What else do you wish to say?" "Your Majesty, Tefiko has returned from the Eastern Frontier today," Hill said. "You must have received this news." The new king's Knights entered the city in the afternoon, their banners raised high as they passed through the eastern gate. Many residents witnessed this scene. Tasa did not respond, knowing the other party would have more to say.
Yet as dusk fell, I learned from Black Hammer that Tefiko was reportedly recruiting rats for her army, offering them freedom in exchange. The skull-fingered leader had already arrived at the royal palace—this didn't sound like a fabrication. Recruit rats? Tasa maintained a calm facade, but his heart sank. These creatures couldn't serve as proper soldiers. Most likely, they'd be pill-enhanced expendable troops for surprise attacks, just like during the assault on the Long Song Fortress. But what was the enemy's target this time?
"That's an interesting piece of news," he said in a grave tone. "Keep a close eye on the rat's movements. Report back to me immediately if you get any information." Tassar thought to himself that Tifeco Wimberton wasn't heading toward the western border.