1157 Surviving Data (2)
What Erik needed right now was to analyze the information about the Blackguards' command structure. Based on what he learned until that point, there were at least three divisions, meaning three leaders. But were there more? He had to find out, because that would change his targets, his strategy, and his approach.
He kept searching.
While the files were frustratingly sparse, one crucial detail emerged: there were only three divisions. <At least some good news...>
It meant there were only two more commanders to eliminate, and the blackguards' leadership would be dismantled. There wasn't actual data on who these people were. Obviously, they made it, so every piece of data about them had been erased. Something that was also missing was everything related to Doran's research. That would have been a great boon, because he might have shared this information with Becker. If he wanted to use it, to fight the blackguards or do something else, even better.
<But he could have also bared his fangs against me.>
Erik didn't really care. He was planning on disappearing once and for all, once all of this ended. Humans had been a disappointment for Erik throughout his life, and a minute more spent among them was too much. <Go somewhere isolated, have only the Chimaeric Demons for company, and have my own little and self-sustainable farm. I don't think I will have problems.>
Then a funny thought crossed his mind.
<It would be cool to live in a giant tree like I did in the White Desert. I would have an enormous place for me and the Chimaeric Demons, a stunning view of the surroundings, and fruits as big as watermelons... Yeah, it is actually not a bad plan.> Something else caught his attention then. Hidden among the standard operational data were personal records—journals, letters, internal communications. Most were the usual sterile official reports that an organization like this did, but some—more than a few, actually—were intimate glimpses into the organization's inner workings. The blackguards' thoughts.
—Journal Entry—
Entry 1: I heard the others are having trouble on the Mur continent. I'm actually worried about Phill. He said they got some bases operational, but based on what Black Skull said, those didn't last for long. Damn Thaids. (...)
(...)
(...)
(...)
(...)
Entry 212: The higher-ups said the research is progressing well. Based on the schedule, I should receive my second brain crystal power in two months. I wonder what they will give me.
(...)
(...)
<It almost looks like...>
[Like the first division commander abandoned the idea of getting me from you,] the biological supercomputer said.
<Right, while Monica and the other guy didn't.>
[It might also be because they thought they could give time to the guy on Mur to do something.]
<Or to find something...> Erik said. <Based on what dad said, you have been created there, so maybe the crafting process might still be there.>
[It is a possibility, but after centuries, I think not much remains.]
<Even if there is not much, a little is still good. They might be able to understand the procedure with a little information. Add that to the information they already have about brain crystals, thanks to Doran's research. Maybe they can make something even better than you.>
There was a pause.
<Analyze these communications,> Erik said. <Look for patterns, recurring themes, anything that might hint at their current operations on Mur. It is now clear what these guys are doing there; I want to know where they are, though. >
He paused. <I don't want to scour an entire continent for them. I need at least a general idea of where they are.>
[All right, but it will require time.]
[Injection complete.]
Erik removed his hand from the server. The room seemed different now, as if it were filled with the echoes of countless private conversations, secret doubts, and hidden ambitions.
He gave a look at his watch. <5 seconds passed.>
He thought about what he had gained.
<The best informations are about the geographical data. That will come in handy.>
The geographic data would help him navigate Mur. It would tell him what to search for and what to avoid.
Despite everything, he got what he needed—not everything he'd hoped for, but enough to begin planning his next moves.