Layers of quick-setting concrete and refined gold are stacked together, with thousands of rooms and semi-open areas supporting each other.
The new passage was built upon the old one. One dome after another formed a massive artificial mountain underground, stretching nearly a hundred meters from its peak to the heart of this vast cluster.
The archipelago branch, located beneath Blue Mountain Island, was established in the second year after the establishment of the Rosd Islands Governor's Office by Rune. However, its foundation and core were already established in the ancient Age of Gods, the Fourth Age, and have existed there for a long time.
However, as the elves withdrew from the surface and fled to the deep sea to escape the war, the underground buildings of Blue Mountain Island were gradually abandoned until the Creator's followers returned from across the ocean and restored their former vitality.
Over the past century, with technological advancements and expanded functions, the underground base has undergone repeated expansions. The most recent implantation of the "Holy Ark" has increased the area of the archipelago branch base by half.
This has resulted in the fact that the current island branch is not like other intelligence branches in other regions, which are well-organized and clear in terms of architectural planning. If you look down from above through the thick layers, the huge base composed of a chaotic and intricate network of different types of passages is no different from the nest dug by ants.
As Alger traversed the long, spiraling staircase and finally stepped into this magnificent underground wonder, this was the impression he formed in his mind of his surroundings.
The hive, without a doubt, is the very place he is now venturing into, a hive built upon a faithful faith in the Creator.
All the extraordinary beings working in the branches, the officials of Trensost, whether in high or low positions, are merely a part of the vast ant sea, a replaceable cog in the giant social machine of the hive.
There was only one exception.
Having returned from the depths of the ocean, Gehrman Sparrow was more confident than when he left, moving with the speed of the wind as he traversed the heavily fortified outpost as if it were uninhabited territory.
As the messenger of the Creator and a favorite of the "God of Mystery," he theoretically possesses far more power than Colonel Taylor Franz, the head of the branch. Although there is a slight gap between theory and practice, and he cannot command his subordinates with perfect ease, he can still guarantee their freedom of movement.
Under the guidance of Gehrman Sparrow, Alger, who had been a convert for a long time, finally met a boss who actually held a real position.
Unlike Tristan Eugen, who is detached from the times for three hundred years and now acts solely based on his count status and the transcendent status of a remnant of the Fourth Epoch, Taylor Franz, although also a nobleman personally appointed by the Emperor, earned his position step by step from the middle ranks through his military achievements in the "Red War," making him an absolute pragmatist.
The colonel's office hadn't changed much; if you had to say, the only difference was that the stack of files on his desk had gotten two inches thicker.
"It seems you have good news to tell me, Mr. V."
With sparse, dark brown hair, deep-set features, and a strong, square face, the tall old man recognized the person as soon as they entered the corridor where the office was located by the sound of their footsteps.
As the door lock loosened and Gehrman Sparrow and Alger entered the room one after the other, he happened to pull his gaze from the lines of the file in his hand, his sharp amber eyes unusually filled with a smile.
He saw a deep blue spiritual glow shimmering in the inside corner of Gehrman Sparrow's coat.
"What did Priestess Trislana say?"
"The elves are willing to support the Rosds' independence resistance." After the usual greetings, Klein answered Taylor Franz's question concisely. "The Rosds' belief in the 'Sea God' has influenced the 'Sea God' to some extent. The Sea God has begun to respond to the Rosds' prayers, and the elves have no room for maneuver. This is why they decisively expressed their support."
Considering Alger's presence, Klein did not delve into the issues surrounding "Sea God," glossing over them and focusing instead on the process and reasons behind the elves' change in attitude.
As for whether Taylor Franz could grasp the real key to their conversation, Klein was fully confident.
"Heh, his temper is as hard as a rock, but in the end he still has to lower himself and squeeze in with the natives he used to look down on."
As expected, Taylor Franz did not disappoint Klein's "trust," and said with a light sarcasm.
However, while he could enjoy the spectacle, Taylor Franz couldn't possibly take the elf's disarray for granted.
The beliefs of the Rosd natives shook the "sea god," awakening a statue that had been quietly submerged on the seabed like a clay sculpture for over a thousand years. It began to respond to prayers regularly and gradually showed signs of stepping into the limelight...
This is no joke, it's a horror story!
The elves worshipped only three things: the most prominent being the "Queen of Calamity," the Elf King Suniasolem, whose worship evolved into a totem worship during the Fourth Age, and then another master, the protector designated by the Elf King before his fall...
Although both the Rosd people and the elves share the same faith, which is essentially directed towards the "God of Miracles," the elves are mostly followers of another Lord, unlike the Rosd natives, who are more drawn to the "natural disasters" of the seabed than to the other Lord.
There are hundreds of thousands of natives on Blue Mountain Island alone… Taylor Franz's serious expression suddenly crumbled.
Damn, these idiots have terrible tempers and are stoneheads. They should have acted a long time ago. They've dragged this out for too long. The natives are about to change the name of "Calamity" to Rosde!
"Alger Wilson, the privateer captain of the Church of Storms, and the liaison for the natives?"
The core members of "Red of War" peered behind Klein, their tone carrying more weight than doubt.
Alger made contact with the native resistance on Blue Mountain Island without the Storm Church noticing, but the Archipelago branch was almost transparent to him.
He also had "Faceless" spies planted within the indigenous resistance.
"I have converted to Mr. Fool and escaped the storm of heresy."
Upon hearing the colonel casually recount his resume, Alger stepped forward, half explaining and half admitting.
"He is now Count Eugen's subordinate and is also favored by the Lord," Klein added.
"Count Eugen?" Taylor Franz hadn't heard of him. "Is it Tristan Eugen?"
Among the nobles recognized by the Empire, there is only one person with the surname Eugen, and that is the previous Mr. V.
"Yes." Alger leaned forward and nodded.
"It seems we'll have to change our plans again."
For some reason, Klein sensed a faint hint of resentment in Taylor Franz's eyes.
"Our country and His Highness the 'Angel with the Lamp' can't keep going like this. They keep keeping our plans from us and making our work go to waste."
Taylor Franz grumbled softly, and the look of discontent on the face of a "Iron Knight" seemed utterly out of place.
"Count Tristan Eugen… According to the biographies of saints, he received the blessings of His Highness Ambrosius and His Holiness the Pope and fell into a deep sleep… From before the outbreak of the Scarlet War until now, nearly three hundred years have passed, and he has completed the ascension ceremony of 'Ancient Scholar'?"
Fortunately, Taylor Franz did not dwell on the differential treatment of being the only one kept in the dark. He quickly guessed the truth behind Tristan's silent return while talking to himself, and put the information he deduced into his thinking.
A well-behaved, cross-path "ancient scholar," a former senior "mystic," is actually quite a surprise upon closer inspection.
Although Tristan did not appoint him—otherwise he would certainly have been notified—this ancient imperial count was far more suitable to take the lead than Tristan himself, who was only a fourth-rank official.
It seems I can really retire now... With this thought, the last trace of gloom on Taylor Franz's face disappeared, and his suppressed negative emotions quietly turned into sunshine.
"Then let's continue according to Count Eugen's arrangements."
"The branch has considerable autonomy on the issue of indigenous peoples. There is no rush to submit reports to the home country; you can take action first."
Taylor Franz leaned back in his chair and said leisurely.
"War is not just about the fighting of swords and spears. Public opinion, conspiracies, and even the things that many demigods and angels look down on are mostly about the economy that mortals play with and control. If managed properly, it can become a sharp spear on the vast battlefield, and its power can be even more deadly and stronger than a real spear."
"The number of natives is not small. Compared with the Loen colonial government in the Rothschild Islands and the blasphemers of the heretical church, they are more lacking in military strength."
"Not every Rune has a more advanced mindset than the natives, and not all natives are illiterate and can't even write their own names. Leaving aside Arne Coltman and the few Sequence 5s on the island, the gap between the two sides is not insurmountable."
As he spoke, Taylor Franz, having relinquished the invisible burden, raised his hand and shook it slightly.
"As long as we can achieve our goal, disrupt the sea lanes of Rune, and relieve the pressure on our own front lines, we can transform from soldiers into brokers, befriend the natives, and become their business partners."
"Ha, the land of the Rosd Islands is very fertile. You could squeeze gold out of a handful of water from the sea routes. The natives don't have the ability to develop it, so they should leave it to those who are capable. At least we are more conscientious than the Rune people. We will give them compensation, won't we?"
The passage of time is enough to transform a bloodless, tearless, and outspoken warrior into a shrewd and mercenary businessman. Taylor Franz, who was probably an "arsonist" more than thirty years ago, and who was making fireballs with the "Red Angels" on the Paz Plateau, could never have imagined that more than thirty years later, he would become the very thing he once hated the most.
There was no other way; what the Lord needed at sea wasn't warriors, but rather resourceful repairmen.
"Are you planning to provide the resistance with equipment and potions, just like Fursac and Intis, like the missionaries of 'God of War' and 'Eternal Sun'?"
Alger, the real liaison, dared not question the colonel's judgment, so Klein, who bore the title of divine messenger, would express his dissatisfaction by raising questions.
He wanted to help the Rothschilds, not to transfer the island's natives from one slave owner to another better one, but to help them achieve true freedom.
Such ideas are naive and unrealistic in the context of the times; they are merely wishful thinking on the part of Klein, this "ideological heretic."
"How much would it cost to provide equipment and potions?"
Taylor Franz was not angry at all in the face of Klein's rude attitude; on the contrary, he found it amusing.
"I never thought that the rabble of natives could stand against Yann Courtman and Rune's armored fleet. In my opinion, their so-called resistance army, oh my, what kind of army is that? Since when can monkeys put on clothes and pick up guns be called an army?"
"They are not like the defeated Byrons, who have a terrible obsession with 'restoring their country'; nor are they like the Highlanders, whose very survival is a problem, who are willing to burn their lives at any moment."
"Their thoughts were not unified, they had no clear goals, and they only vaguely knew that they wanted revenge and to live a good life. This did bind them together for a while, but when they actually faced Rune's army and were killed or wounded in one minute, could they still hold on to this belief and continue to fight with their guns in hand?"
"Don't be ridiculous. If they had the guts of the Byrons and the highland extremists, they wouldn't have been dogs for the Runes in the first place, slaves on plantations, or even proud of being second-class citizens."
Using his nearly ten years of experience, Taylor Franz refuted Klein's unspoken thoughts point by point, winning victory after victory and pressing his advantage.
"Moreover, regardless of 'Sea King,' the remaining Sequence 5s on Rosde Island, as well as the sealed artifacts hidden beneath the Heretic Church, are all mobile forces that can be mobilized at any time. Even if I apply to my home country to empty the warehouse behind the 'Holy Ark' and feed the potions to the natives, it would be good if I could cultivate two or three Sequence 8s in a month or two."
"This efficiency is not as good as feeding potions to dogs and trying them one by one. Maybe two or three lucky ones can survive the madness and advance to the fifth rank."
Tearing away the facade of politeness, Taylor Franz's realistic arguments, brimming with disdain, left Klein speechless.
He had to admit what Colonel Taylor said, because it was indeed the truth.
"However, we can offer assistance, since this is still nominally a war of independence for the natives of Rothschild."
Without warning, Taylor Franz suddenly changed his attitude and softened his tone considerably.
"Besides the Rune government and heretical churches, there are also a lot of pirates and Rune immigrants on the islands. They can be used as practice subjects for the natives, while we deal with the main course."
"and..."
Taylor Franz slammed a report onto the table, just enough for Klein and his companion to see clearly.
"After our prayers were answered, the natives began to attempt to breach the borders of Bayam. We need to integrate them as soon as possible and persuade them to believe that the 'Sea God' and the Lord are one."
"That's the most important thing."
...
That night, in the distance of the coastal harbor, lines of torches resembled long dragons, rushing through the chaotic city. The impassioned natives threw stones at their compatriots dressed in police uniforms. Ruen residents were dragged from their houses, tied to wooden stakes, and whipped and cursed by the frenzied crowd below—a scene of utter chaos.
The fire ignited a corner of southeast Bayam, illuminating the nearby sea adjacent to the harbor, and a sail slowly approaching, depicting flesh and thorns.
After a week, "Blood General" Senor finally arrived in Bayam.