Farushir didn’t answer directly, but instead asked,“Are you familiar with Lord [Jingwei Sage]?”
[Shadowfang Warlord] nodded.
He was a technical player, and sometimes he would sell excess in-game items for gold or even real money.
As for “tycoons” like [Jingwei Sage], he’d often been their customer.
“He’s an excellent formation master.”
Farushir gave an objective evaluation.
“The First Prince has already commissioned him, along with the kingdom’s engineers, to oversee the construction of the core nodes of the teleportation array.
And in the coming months, my troops and… you experienced adventurers—we’ll still need to conduct on-site surveys of several key planned teleportation points.”
She paused, giving him time to digest the information.
“Survey missions?”
[Shadowfang Warlord] narrowed his eyes.
“The last survey mission was almost a disastrous failure… And now Zhao Yingyue can’t participate…”
“That’s right.”
Farushir interrupted.
“That’s exactly why I need your strength even more.”
She looked at [Shadowfang Warlord], her gaze both scrutinizing and openly expectant.
“I believe, with Lord [Shadowfang Warlord]’s strength, you’ll play an important role in this plan.”
Her words were frank and direct, both sharing information and recruiting.
[Shadowfang Warlord] rubbed his chin, a look of interest on his face.
To him, all the luxury of nobility and the future of the kingdom were nothing more than AI-generated game backgrounds.
But new adventures, powerful enemies, and generous quest rewards—those were the things he truly cared about.
“To be personally invited by the God’s Favored, I have no reason to refuse.”
He said with a smile.
“When the quest is posted, I’ll definitely check the Task Hall at the first opportunity.”
Receiving the expected satisfactory reply, Farushir nodded slightly.
She looked out the window.
It was nearing dusk, time to light fires and prepare dinner.
Amid the curling smoke, the people of Arslan bustled and conversed in the streets.
Some hurried to finish their last tasks before supper, others packed up goods from stalls, ready to close for the day.
Two half-grown children played and chased each other from one side of the road to the other, accidentally bumping into a player with odd clothes and a giant sword on his back.
The player didn’t mind, just patted the two children on the head before leaving.
Whether native or player, everyone seemed to be growing accustomed to each other’s existence.
She picked up the silver spoon again and finished the last bit of ice cake.
[Shadowfang Warlord], seeing this, stood up to say goodbye—only for Farushir’s voice to sound once more.
“However… I have one more question. I’d like you to answer as a player.”
Her voice was slow and measured, but held deep hesitation, as if she’d been thinking for a long time.
“I want to know… from a player’s perspective, how do you tell if someone is a player—or a native?”
—
One hour earlier.
In the tactical discussion room of Pasca Military Academy, the air was so silent that only the faint, clear scratch of a pen across a parchment map could be heard.
A giant map of the forbidden zone of the Demon Domain covered the entire oak table, with dense symbols marked in different colored inks.
Farushir stood here, side by side with Nilo.
“Thirty li south of Howling Wind Canyon, there’s a flat basin.”
Nilo wore the dark gray uniform of an academy instructor, his blond hair immaculately styled.
He held a white waxwood pointer, its tip touching a depression on the sand table.
This was their second discussion of a new teleportation array site after the Dross Gate Project was relaunched.
The last attempt had ended in bloody failure—a survey team was ambushed by high-level monsters, several magic girls were lost, and Farushir’s most trusted companion, Zhao Yingyue, was severely wounded in battle.
At that time, Farushir had used a prophecy stone to predict the site’s safety from monster attack.
However, the Apostles exploited a loophole in the prophecy stone, catching them off guard.
Nilo was the main person responsible for providing the prophecy stone’s usage plan.
“The energy flow in the earth here is relatively stable, and the mountain can serve as a natural physical barrier. If a teleportation gate is built here, only the eastern pass would need strong defense, saving a great deal of manpower and resources.”
Nilo’s voice was gentle and steady.
Each proposed site came with detailed analysis—from geological structure to strategic value and construction difficulty, all thoroughly considered.
Farushir listened quietly, without interruption.
She wore a simple white uniform, hands behind her back, posture as straight as a pine.
Her gaze seemed focused on the point Nilo indicated with the pointer, but in truth, her mind was like a wide, invisible net, catching his every subtle movement.
They had been discussing here for nearly an hour.
Having learned a bloody lesson from the last intelligence leak that nearly annihilated their entire force, Farushir now showed a cold, almost ruthless caution during site selection.
This one-on-one meeting was not just a discussion—but also a silent observation.
“This location is good.”
Farushir finally spoke, her voice so calm that no emotion could be detected.
“But it’s too close to the Black Forest, the traditional hunting ground of high-level shadow beasts. When the teleportation gate is first established, energy fluctuations could easily attract them.
We’d need a permanent elite force of at least a hundred for long-term defense. The congress may not approve such expenditure.”
Her questions were precise and sharp, targeting the weakest point of the plan.
Nilo paused slightly.
He looked up at Farushir, and the gentle smile usually present in his blue eyes was replaced by a complex emotion.
Within it were appreciation, helplessness, and a hint of… indescribable guilt.
“You’re more thorough than I am, Farushir.”
He said softly, lowering the pointer.
“You’re right—logistics and military funding are the fundamental shackles restricting all our strategic plans.”
He was silent for a moment, as if searching for words.
The room’s air seemed frozen, with only the faint hum of a floating crystal.
“About… last time…”
He finally spoke, his voice deeper than before.
“That prophecy stone… I only conducted simple research on it in the lab—the results weren’t sufficient…
I didn’t expect that the stone could only detect the movements of units with magic weaker than the user… It was completely useless against beings like the Apostles, who have survived for centuries.”
He didn’t say “I’m sorry” outright, but the apology in his words was unmistakable.
He took the root cause of the intelligence leak—his insufficient research into magical artifacts—and used it as a way to shoulder part of the responsibility for the near-disaster.
Farushir gazed at him silently.
She saw how, as Nilo spoke, he unconsciously avoided her eyes, letting his gaze fall upon the red flags on the sand table that represented the fallen.
She saw his grip on the pointer tighten, knuckles turning white.
She could even sense the struggle and pain behind the candor he strove to display.
Was he apologizing?
Or… probing?