708. The Wise Black Wolf At The Crossroads

708. The Wise Black Wolf At The Crossroads

Rodan Trade City was the Bellum Empire’s version of the City of Spades. A few years ago, the city used to be home to over a hundred thousand people. Long bands of merchants would brave Grandis for the city’s promise of riches.

The ruling Duke allowed contraband to circulate its markets, and its isolated position as one of two cities in the north allowed it to sustain itself through swaths of farmland. Crops and tilted soil used to reach the walls of the city all the way to the mountains that divided the Bellum Empire.Fiind updated novels at novelhall.com

But now all that remained was an uninhabitable wasteland. Not a single blade of grass grew across tens of kilometers around Rodan Trade City. The roads were buried in dirt, and the skies glowed a dark orange as dusk blocked out the skies.

Society within the Rodan Trade City had collapsed. Law and order that used to be mandated by soldiers and guards were replaced by those favored by the Duke of the territory, or those with strength.

The rules of the backwaters applied in this city, and Cer was glad she possessed a CognitO Filter. Otherwise, she would have finished off the rotting carcass that people called a city.

Still, Cer couldn’t help but to indulge in a little bloodshed.

Somewhere, within the maze of narrow alleyways of shanties that were built atop preexisting buildings lay more than twenty bodies. A hooded figure was dragged by the hair before he was thrown against a wall, his head splattering like an overripe fruit.

The stench of blood filled the air as her crimson eyes cut through the darkness like a hot, glowing knife. Trails of light followed her gaze as she reached to an ear with a blood-soaked hand.

“You called?” Cer spoke nonchalantly.

“I was wondering if you found anything pointing to where the Red Barron is.”

“Nothing yet. I’ve asked the locals but I’m not as good at torturing it out of them.” Cer sighed. “Lots of criminal activity here. I don’t know about you, Frost, but I’m half tempted to bring the city down.”

A human boy shivered as he grasped at his chained collar. Cer stared at him with a sidelong glance.

“I’m kidding. I’m a good wolf so I’ll keep the carnage in check. I wouldn’t want to blow our cover. Unless you want me to?”

The child gulped.

“Stay put. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Nothing big, but there’s major syndicates locked down in this place. Lots of people dressed up well too. It’s a good sign that there’s something brewing. Hey, little runt. Got any idea?”

The child shook their head.

“Thought so. A bunch of scumbags tried luring a slave into their den. Looking at how cleaned up he is, they were probably getting ready to sell him off.”

Frost and Cer shared the exact same sentiments. The fact that Iscario required her was enough proof for them to confirm that she was indeed the musician D-13 referenced. Her title as a Maestro made this concrete.

“I will be questioning her soon. For now, I’ll leave you with what the Exalted have found.”

Cer reactivated her CognitO Filter and disappeared from plain sight.

Currently, there were more Impuritas Groups than they anticipated. There were different Groups that occupied the surrounding territories of a given Tower.

In the order of Towers from the Capital towards the north, there were the: Librarians within the Capital, the Crimson Hunger; the Sect of Gears; the Memento Mori and finally; the Blood Festival at the most distant tower.

The first few Towers were confirmed by the Exalted themselves, but the last two were extracted from Impuritas members.

Frost validated the information through the Ankou, confirming the existence of multiple Hearts of the City near each of the Towers.

The Exalted could not possibly act while they were still alive, but Frost had a plan to deal with them once she arrived at the Capital.

Cer returned to the main streets of Rodan Trade City, walking amongst haggard beggars and well-dressed merchants like a phantom. She existed only within their unconsciousness and slipped through the gaps of their awareness. None could touch her as a result. They parted before her like a wall of reeds as her ears twitched to all manners of sounds.

Rattling chains. The scrunching of broken glass. Screams. Laugher...

Cer became so in tune with the environment that she did not notice the back of a suited man that failed to make way for her.

Suddenly, she planted her face into the figure’s back. It was warm, and the scent picked up was that of roses. Broken thorns spilled from the figure’s pockets, littering the streets of their crossroads.

Cer was ready to fight. This person had blown her cover. He did not move for her like the others, meaning that he had already detected her presence. However, she noticed their black, snow-tipped tail and ears that were just like hers.

Finally, the figure turned around, revealing a pair of red eyes that she could never dream to misplace.

“... Cer?” A rough, masculine voice called out to her as though he was seeing things.

Cer’s eyes widened. Her ears drooped till they touched her head, and her tail rose with an electrifying sense of excitement.

Her heart throbbed uncontrollably at the sight of the one person she wanted to see the most. With a heavy heart and a raspy voice, she called out the name of this person.

“Raoul...?”