Chapter 407: An Unknown Clue

“You really should join Dark Moon,” the old man said to Wu Qingsong, voice filled with fervor. “For the first time, we’ve seen hope for success! The elves slaughter our people just to prevent anyone from ever threatening them, but now, any beastkin has the power to kill them. Join us, Tagraedi! Don’t you want to watch those demons die one by one before the very weapons you created? Don’t you want to see them pay for their atrocities? Judgment is coming. And that day will be the end of the elves!”

Wu Qingsong didn’t know how to respond to such fanaticism. The old man had clearly experienced some trauma he could never let go of—something Wu Qingsong could understand, but not truly empathize with.

“Before this weapon is mass-produced, I think secrecy is our top priority,” he said, shifting the topic away. “We can use this weapon, but so can the elves. And once the secret leaks, they’ll start working on countermeasures… or even ways to neutralize it entirely.”

“You’re right,” Red Moon interjected, cutting off the old man before he could speak again. “We’ll classify this weapon as top-secret. Not a word leaves this place until we have enough to make a real impact.”

Wu Qingsong didn’t hold much hope for that. Dark Moon’s approach was the complete opposite of Nagrand’s. While they had significantly improved the musket’s power, they had also turned it into a costly toy.

The metal used for the barrel was extremely rare and expensive, and the entire crafting process required enormous time and skill. Every gun was essentially a handmade masterpiece, driving up the cost to rival that of enchanted equipment.

Mass deployment would be a serious financial strain on Dark Moon. And since they couldn’t afford to put these weapons in the hands of ordinary soldiers, the musket’s greatest advantage—its accessibility—was effectively nullified.

“Gunpowder actually has another application…” Wu Qingsong said, unable to stop himself from releasing yet another devil. 

He knew the consequences would be terrible. But as Red Moon had said, as the leader of Nagrand, he no longer had the luxury of clinging to his personal sense of morality.

***

He waited a full half-month before visiting Julian.

Julian was anxious. He hadn’t even stayed in Padamia but had instead taken up residence in a manor in the Lower City. When Wu Qingsong gave his name to the gatekeeper, he was immediately let in.

“Baron,” Wu Qingsong offered a brief bow. He couldn’t bring himself to grovel before a much weaker elf.

“What took you so long?” Julian said irritably, though seeing the piles of silver and gold, he didn’t push the matter too hard.

“There was some trouble during fundraising. We ran into desert raiders in the Batiz region and had to take a longer route to avoid their activity.”

“Why is it always raiders?” Julian muttered, watching as his men began counting the money. “Don’t tell me you’re getting too cozy with those sand scum.”

“My lord, our dealings have always involved the raiders to some extent, but this time we pushed too hard, and it upset them.”

“I don’t need to hear those details in the future,” Julian cut him off with a wave. “How’s Anton?”

“Lord Anton is doing very well. He asked me to send his regards and made sure I passed along a message: he swears to serve you with all his strength, until death if necessary.”

“That guy just can’t handle hardship,” Julian scoffed. “Tell him if he does well, I won’t forget it.”

Then, realizing Wu Qingsong was still there, he added, “Of course, I won’t forget you either.”

“Many thanks, my lord.”

Julian asked him a few more questions about the journey, mostly about the Icy Sea region. Thankfully, Wu Qingsong had come prepared. The Icy Sea had once again fallen into its long, bitter winter, and he described the desolate landscapes along the way in painstaking detail. Julian’s attendants, listening nearby, grew even more convinced that there was absolutely no way they could let their young master go to such a godforsaken place.

Once the handoff was complete, Julian began ushering Wu Qingsong out. He didn’t see Wu Qingsong as one of his subordinates, but Wu Qingsong had no interest in playing that role either, and didn’t want to linger in the capital.

“Then, Baron, I’ll take my leave.” 

He gave another courteous but minimal bow and turned to leave. Neither Julian nor his stewards made the slightest gesture to keep him.

That was just as well.

With relations this cold, there’d be no hesitation when it came time to turn on each other.

With that thought in mind, Wu Qingsong boarded the carriage lent by Dark Moon. After circling the streets a few times to ensure no one was tailing him, he returned once more to Dark Moon’s base.

There, he once again immersed himself in the content of the Book of the Dead, which he had memorized by heart. He forced himself to recite the cryptic, difficult passages, trying to understand their meaning. Boulder had used these teachings to create the method that allowed beastwomen to awaken their powers at will, and since those texts were recorded at length in the sacred artifacts of the Batiz people, they had to hold real power.

A few days later, Red Moon finally brought him the news he’d been waiting for.

“These past days, we’ve been combing every lead,” she told him. “We’ve been looking for tomb robbers, explorers, and so-called archaeologists. These types rarely appear in the capital. Most spend their time scattered across the continent, hunting for ancient relics.

“Grave robbers fit your criteria best, but they’re extremely cautious. They never reveal their identities to strangers, and they almost never talk about their expeditions. Even Dark Moon has little contact with them.

“Archaeologists usually work under elven noble patronage and have respectable reputations. Approaching them would be far too risky for us. So we focused on adventurers and mercenaries who used to work as treasure hunters.”

“And?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“We found an old mercenary who’s long since retired. According to him, he once followed an archaeologist into the Endless Green Sea in search of a legendary treasure. They stumbled into an ancient, abandoned ruin. The archaeologist believed it might have been an elven city from ancient times. But before they could explore deeper, the archaeologist fell ill, and they had to turn back.”

“They never returned?”

“Rumor is, the archaeologist died on the road. Others in the party fell sick too,” Red Moon said. “They believed the place was cursed. No one dared go back.”

Wu Qingsong was intrigued. The ruins in the story certainly sounded promising—if they were real. Of course, there was always the chance it was just some drunk old man’s tall tale.

“You think it’s real?”

“I used a few tricks to confirm most of what he said,” Red Moon said. “The ruins are probably real.”

“Is he willing to take me there?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“He isn’t, and he can’t. He’s dying. But his grandson grew up hearing that story and is eager to go with us to find it.”

“Us?” Wu Qingsong raised an eyebrow.

“There may be things in that ruin that are useful to us,” Red Moon said. “What? Did you really think you’d get to keep all the discoveries for yourself?”