Chapter 1049: Chapter 843: Weren’t They Humans Before?
Hill was a bit puzzled: for Weilun, which has been constantly under the attack of Tornado Storms, it’s really only accessible by ship for humans.
Even if the Anmur Navy occupies Weilun, with their capability, it’s hard to survive safely amid the dual assaults from tornadoes and elves.
Celene seemed to sense Hill’s confusion and gently reminded, "They are probably planning to dedicate their entire country to worship Agleya; Anmur still doesn’t have a state religion."
Hill couldn’t help but widen his eyes: If Agleya accepted the loyalty offered by the Anmur people, the tornadoes would indeed no longer affect them.
Even the elves, even if they were to still compete with them for Weilun, would have to respect Hill enough to avoid using excessive measures... The admirals of the Royal Fleet were indeed quite ruthless in their actions.
But how could Agleya possibly do such a thing? Who wants something so filthy?
Hill frowned and said, "Agleya doesn’t need that kind of impure Faith Power."
"They probably assume that as a newfound deity, Agleya’s indifference to faith is just a display for the Toril Gods.
And Anmur, to some extent, is considered one of the top nations on the Ferun Great Land in recent years: both its population and economy are top-notch, and in their minds, Deepwater City and Silvermoon City are nothing special.
So they don’t believe any Toril God would reject their national worship," Celene said with a hint of sarcasm, "The Toril people have long forgotten what a natural god is.
Besides, in the past, Anmur’s most important deity was Valkin, even if all her followers changed their faith, she wouldn’t dare have any objections towards Agleya... After all, Valkin couldn’t even defeat you."
She’s a bit different from Shaer: Shaer requires her followers to work for her, rather than providing any Faith Power, but unfortunately, not many of her followers can comprehend this, always assuming that enough piety would earn Shaer’s approval.
The more people think this way, the more foolish they are: rather than kneeling for days and nights, Shaer would prefer they provide some useful information, ideally using conspiracies to destroy a nation... like Tethyr, both in the past and now.
And what Celene needs are simply temples, because of past injuries, she needs something to mark her existence, so temples are important, and followers as annexes to temples are somewhat useful.
But what they need is to propagate their names and powers, not to receive devout prayers... Who has time for all that?
As long as they use the Primordial Power... including using the Weave and the Shadow Weave, it’s an acknowledgment of Celene and Shaer.
Hill nodded coldly, "I’ll tell Lynn later, Agleya has no interest in becoming the faith of any nation... Like the gods worshiped by a nation, such as Lansendel or Amanata?
And Valkin?"
Celene laughed heartily, "Haha! Exactly! Who wants so many troublesome worshipers causing day-to-day issues?
Valkin is still alive, with Lyril being well-connected; as long as Valkin bows down and pleads, most deities would still spare her, didn’t the old fellow protect her once?
Furthermore, although she not only pit the Undead Tribe but also nearly wiped out the temple guards of other deities... Didn’t she still survive?
In fact, many deities believe that a god of commercial trade is always needed anyway; Valkin is better than a newcomer, at least she won’t instantly become a mighty divine power due to flourishing trade.
In a place like Anmur, where commerce is paramount, they would naturally offer Faith Power to Valkin. Just like there’s still a temple for Heim there, slave traders prefer to worship him.
Apart from them, there’s basically Shuni... her followers are well-received in Anmur.
But which decent girl would go to Anmur?
Even if you wanted Agleya to agree with Anmur, I would dissuade her... Why should such an adorable young girl sully herself?"
Celene’s tone was filled with disdain, she favors girls willing to forge their paths with their own hands, in her mind, even a rough laundress is better than those working in Shuni’s bathhouses.
But in Anmur, a place rooted in slave trade, it indeed is tougher for women to survive, Hill still remembers what that Anmur Spy said... As long as they stay in someone’s house, those women belong to that person.
Regardless of whether the male owner knows these women, he can treat them like Scarlet Roses.
In such a society, even wanting to be a laundress is impossible!
So, the female Professionals in Anmur are all thorny roses struggling up from the mud... Their working style is very fierce, either resembling members of the Shuni Church or being misandrists.
Hill looked down, as Celene did not mention those special existences in Anmur.
Anmur’s worship of the deities is indeed not so devout, yet behind them are the Masked Mage Society and Shadow Thief... The fact that parliamentary families can control a powerful army and those so-called commercial companies is not because the Anmur people respect the monarchy.
It seems that the reorganization of the Weave has dealt a significant blow to the Masked Mage Society, so much so that even the commercial companies of Anmur are now seeking new backing.
There’s nothing they can do, given that Anmur is a nation that deems Arcane Magic illegal... It’s quite normal that the Masked Mage Society, which used Weave spells to restrain mages, suffers from the Weave’s backlash.
As for the shadow thieves... they’re probably looking for ways to reintegrate into the shadows now.
Celene doesn’t even bother to mention these organizations behind Anmur, not only because they pose no real threat to Hill, but also because shadow thieves were one of the enemies she once claimed as her own.
Celene deeply dislikes thieves who commit misdeeds under the moonlight shadows... and those shadow thieves who believe in Cyric have no presence with Shaer.
Shaer softly began to speak: "Anmur, there are some things that pique my interest.
Hill, how much time do those spies have left to speak the truth?"
"Four hours," Hill calculated silently, "If necessary, we can let the Undead Tribe send them back in. No matter how strong-minded, if their spiritual power isn’t enough, they won’t last eight hours."
Shaer chuckled lightly: "That’s enough, my dedicated priest always acts quickly."
"Marsha," Hill raised his voice to shout, "Please have the Temporal Artifact inform the Undead Tribe that a certain Shadow Cloak will be visiting their camp."
"Anmur has such interesting things?" Celene asked blankly, "Isn’t it just gemstone mines and slaves there? There’s no Masked Mage worthy of your notice, is there? Don’t most of them use the Shadow Weave?"
Shaer sneered coldly: "Do you think I’d tell you?"
Celene instinctively responded: "Your priest is asking the Undead Tribe... doesn’t that mean you’re telling me?"
Shaer snorted softly: "Ha~ you can take a guess."
The great gossip summit on the screen temporarily paused. Although the outcome for Andreju was satisfying, the process was somewhat unsettling. And while the noble disputes sounded interesting, upon deeper examination, they were no different from Andreju’s matters... There’s nothing new under the Sun.
In these stories of high-level conflicts told by the spies, it’s always the people at the bottom who suffer the most... However, when they spoke about it, they merely glossed over: A certain member of the Undead Tribe suddenly had an epiphany and asked the Anmur spy about the servants in that Navy Captain’s house, whether they were taken away too?
The Anmur spy appeared bewildered for a moment before recalling from memory the fate of those servants: The entire family was buried with Prince Andreju.
The reason turned out to be that they neither stopped Prince Andreju from entering that garden villa nor prevented the frenzied Navy Captain from torturing and killing Andreju.
Judging by the Anmur spy’s expression and those of others, no one seemed to think there was anything wrong with this... The fate of servants, like blades of grass, unnoticed even in death.
Afterwards, those from the Undead Tribe lost interest in the gossip and automatically dispersed... For them, helping clean up those big trees was a more profitable extra income!
These already dead trees still have many uses, for example, the Lasp Tree, somewhat like cedar, with trunks for building houses and needles that can be made into a special spice that the Kalinsanians add to high-level torches or candles... let’s not mention torches anymore, each Lasp Candle sells for 1 gold coin!
The Undead Tribe has now become familiar with William’s way of doing things: If they sold these trees directly to the Temporal Artifact, he’d just acquire them at the lowest price... They suffered quite a bit of loss!
For instance, the tall Shadow Crown Wood, as it could only be used as firewood, even as the best firewood, a cartload would only be worth 1 gold coin... calculated using the standard Toril people cart size, not by weight!
Yet William purchased the Lasp Trees at the price of Shadow Crown Wood!
Eventually, the Undead Tribe wised up and sorted the materials themselves before selling each type separately.
Anyway, the stories of the Toril people couldn’t surpass the shock that Andreju brought them, the Undead Tribe was no longer interested at all.
The spies abandoned by the Undead Tribe looked at each other, but despite somewhat understanding their own changed state, they dared not argue anymore... It didn’t matter to reveal things about their adversaries, but unveiling their own nation’s secrets would spell their doom.
Though the future was uncertain, no one wanted to die just now... After all, they had signed some confidentiality contracts, and spilling things that should not be revealed could mean sudden death on the spot. Some might even have their souls sent to be toyed with by devils.
Just like that Harpist said: The higher the level of a spy, the more they know, and the less possible it is for them to escape such a life of licking blood from knives.
Once the Undead Tribe lost interest in these Kalinsanian refugees, the Harpist Ivar Gremms quickly transformed into the manager of the refugee camp... ’Snow Cloud Peak’ was extremely pleased; he didn’t want to handle the mundane matters of NPCs’ daily needs every day.
He cheerfully patted Ivar on the shoulder: "I knew it, any peer of Lynn would definitely know a bit about management... so I’ll leave the refugee camp to you! We Elves aren’t that inclined to interact with humans."
As Shaer pondered, she suddenly heard this and couldn’t help but speak: "Hill, if I remember correctly, they were once human?"