CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49

The intel wing sat deeper in the base. Fewer windows. More doors with keypads and card readers. More people with headsets and tablets who barely looked up when Albert passed.

Ward led them through another metal door that opened with a beep and a hydraulic hiss.

Inside, the room was cooler. Long tables held maps, papers, and unfamiliar devices. Screens lined one wall, each showing different images—terrain from above, symbols, lines of moving text. A faint hum filled the air from machines running somewhere out of sight.

Several officers stood around a central table. They straightened when Albert entered.

"Commander on deck," one of them said.

"At ease," Albert replied. "We’re on analysis, not parade."

Chairs scraped. The room relaxed by a notch.

The three adventurers hovered near the doorway for a second. They looked like they weren’t sure if they should stand at attention or bolt.

Ward jerked his head toward the table. "You’re not prisoners. Move."

They stepped forward.

Up close, the central table was a map—printed, not hand-drawn. Clean lines. Sharp borders. Lakes and rivers marked with neat symbols instead of ink blotches.

Lyris stared down at it. "This is... our continent."

Mira leaned in. "Altfordia. The northern marches. The Black Range. You’ve charted all this?"

"Based on aerial recon and some magic guesswork," Ward said. "We filled the gaps with what we could see from above."

Ragna frowned. "You can see this much from the sky?"

"More," Albert said. "But we need names. Politics. Context. That’s where you come in."

A woman with short black hair and a lean build stepped up next to Albert. She wore the same dark uniform, but her vest was lighter, filled with pens and small tools instead of extra magazines.

"Captain Reyes," Albert said. "Intel lead for this sector. You report details to her, she turns them into something I can use."

Reyes nodded once. "We’ll start simple. Kingdoms. Borders. Current wars. Active demon incursions."

Ragna sighed. "You and your ’simple.’"

Reyes ignored the comment. She pushed a stack of blank forms aside and tapped the map.

"Here. This is the area around Aldo. We’ve marked the roads and rivers we’ve confirmed. What we don’t have are names for half these towns and who they answer to."

Lyris stepped closer. "Here," she said, pointing. "This road leads northwest to Eastwatch. Garrison town. Small but well-defended. Two hundred regular soldiers, plus a rotating adventurer presence."

Reyes took notes without looking up. "Who commands it?"

"Captain Helmar Grent," Lyris said. "Old soldier. Loyal to the crown more than to any noble house."

"Good," Reyes said. "Less likely to panic when he hears rumors."

Mira tapped the map southeast of Aldo. "This road branches toward the river port of Maren’s Ford. Trade point. Mostly grain and lumber. They depend on caravans from the capital and river barges. If goblins had taken Aldo, the next targets would have been isolated farmsteads along that route."

Ward pointed at the main road leading back toward the capital. "And along here?"

"Patrols every few weeks," Mira said. "Less since the demon war worsened. The crown pulled more soldiers back to the central front."

"Meaning border villages get bled first," Ragna muttered.

Reyes drew a line and circled three junctions. "Priority protection points if we expand operations," she said.

Albert nodded. "Good. Now zoom out."

Reyes motioned to an analyst. He tapped a control panel. The central table’s map wasn’t enchanted, but another screen on the wall flicked to a wider view of the continent.

Three colored outlines glowed over different regions.

"This is what we think we understand," Reyes said. "Blue is your kingdom—Altfordia. Red is the rival power to the east. Green is the southern coalition. Tell me how wrong that is."

Mira watched the screen like it might bite. "You’re not far off. The red region is Drakovia. Militaristic. Heavy cavalry. Spell-knights. They’ve fought Altfordia on and off for the last century."

"Southern coalition is loose," Lyris added. "City-states. Merchant princes. They contribute coin and ships when demons threaten trade routes, but they don’t commit full armies unless their own walls are on fire."

Reyes scribbled. "Central authority in this region?" She tapped Altfordia’s capital marker. "The king?"

"Yes," Lyris said. "King Albrecht IV. He holds legal authority over the kingdom, but major dukes and margraves control their own levies. If they don’t like an order, they delay it. Or ignore it."

"Fantastic," Ward said dryly. "Feudal politics. My favorite."

Albert pointed at the northern edge of the map. "The demon front?"

Mira shivered. "There." She traced a jagged line across a mountain range. "The Demon Realm bleeds into ours through rifts and corrupted zones. Fortresses hold the passes. For now."

Reyes circled them. "Names. Commanders. Relative strength. We’ll need all of it."

"We don’t know everything," Lyris warned. "C-Rank adventurers don’t get invited to war councils."

"That’s fine," Reyes said. "Range of knowledge is a known variable. We’ll cross-check what you give us with our own recon."

Ragna’s eyes drifted to another screen—one showing a rotating three-dimensional image of the region around Aldo. Terrain rose and fell in clean shapes. Numbers tagged ridgelines and river depths.

"How did you make that?" she asked.

"Topographic scan," an analyst at the back said. "Think of it as... accurate map-making with eyes you throw into the sky."

"You have flying eyes?" Ragna said.

"Drones," Ward replied. "Machines that scout."

"Your words keep getting worse," Ragna said, but she couldn’t stop watching.

Reyes flipped to another page. "We also need the internal structure of the Adventurer’s Guild. Chain of command. Who answers to who. How they react to new powers moving in."

Mira rubbed her thumb along the edge of the table. "Locally, the guild is neutral. Officially, it doesn’t bow to kings. In reality, it bends where coin and politics push hardest."

"Start at the top," Albert said. "Global leadership."

Lyris nodded. "The Central Guild Council sits in Virelund, across the sea. They set standards, rank exams, and broad policy. But each kingdom’s guild branch has its own Master. They handle assignments, disputes, and discipline."

"Altfordia’s Guild Master?" Reyes asked.

"Garron Veld," Lyris said. "Old warrior. One eye. Fair if you’re useful. Harsh if you’re useless. He hates nobles who throw adventurers at suicide missions for glory."

"Good," Albert said. "He might be useful."

"He also hates outside interference," Mira added. "Which... you very much are."

Reyes scribbled again. "We’ll need a careful approach."

Ward leaned against the table. "How did they respond to the demon war so far?"

"Slow," Mira said. "Guild focus is still on contracts and local threats. Demon incursions are technically ’military domain.’ Adventurers join, but as volunteers. The guild isn’t structured for full war."

"Then they’ll fail at it," Albert said. "We can exploit that gap."

Lyris frowned. "Exploit?"

"Not in a predatory way," Albert said. "We fill roles your systems can’t. That wins trust from people who matter on the ground."

Ragna smirked. "You never say things in small ways, do you?"

"No point," he said.

Reyes moved to a whiteboard and began sketching a rough hierarchy chart. Boxes for "King," "High Nobles," "Guild Council," "Temple Authority," "Merchant Houses." Arrows and question marks between them.

"Talk to me about temples," she said. "You mentioned the Goddess more than once."

Mira took a breath. "The Church of the Seven Aspects is the main religious power. The Goddess is seen through seven faces—War, Mercy, Judgment, Harvest, Knowledge, Protection, and Fate. Each temple leans toward one, but they’re united. Mostly."

"Mostly," Ward repeated. "Meaning?"

"Power struggles," Lyris said. "High Priests argue. Rural priests do their own thing. Official doctrine says Blessed Heroes are chosen through divine visions. Unofficially... some temples favor certain kingdoms, backing them with blessings and relics."

Reyes underlined "temples" twice. "How will they react when they learn outsiders dropped from the sky with tech they can’t explain?"

"Badly," Mira said. "Some will call you heretics. Some will call you prophecies fulfilled. Some will try to control you. None will ignore you."

Albert didn’t flinch. "We expected that."

Ragna raised a hand lazily. "Question. If they decide you’re heretics... and they declare a crusade... what do you do?"

Ward shrugged. "Depends. On their tone. On their level of threat. On how much they annoy the commander."

Albert shot him a glance but didn’t correct him.

"We’ll try diplomacy first," Albert said. "If that fails, we protect ourselves with proportional response."

Mira frowned. "Your proportional may not match ours."

"Then we calibrate," Albert said. "That’s why you’re here."

Reyes finished her sketch and set the marker down. "All right. First pass is good. We’ve got enough to start building a political risk model. Next we need personal lists. Names of nobles, guild officers, and priests with outsized influence."

She pointed at three separate sheets.

"Write who comes to mind. Friends. Enemies. People whose reactions matter if we move beyond Aldo."

Ragna stared at the paper like it was a trap. "We’re not betraying anyone."

"No one asked you to," Reyes said. "We’re not asking for secret crimes. Just telling us who tries to swing a sword bigger than they can lift."

Mira hesitated, then picked up the pen first. It felt light and smooth, not carved like the quills she was used to.

She wrote slowly.

"Guild Master Garron Veld," she said aloud as she scribbled. "Knight-Commander Elaine of the Eastwatch garrison. High Priest Lotheran of the capital’s main temple. Duke Ranfield of the northern marches."

Reyes wrote the names on her chart as well.

"Duke Ranfield?" Ward asked. "That name sounds like a problem."

"He is," Lyris said. She took a second pen. "Ambitious. Thinks the throne is weak. Has his own private knight order. Treats adventurers as disposable assets."

"Noted as potential adversary," Reyes said.

Ragna finally took the third sheet. Her handwriting was rough, but legible.

"Captain Berald of the city watch," she muttered. "Likes bribes. Hates beastkin. If he hears we’re working with you, he’ll report it to anyone who’ll pay."

Reyes actually smiled faintly at that. "Good. I like knowing where the rot starts."

The scribbling went on for several minutes. Names. Titles. Short notes. Some came easy. Some took effort.

When they finished, Reyes gathered the sheets into a neat stack and slid them into a folder marked with a printed label: "LOCAL ASSETS – TIER ZERO."

Ragna squinted at the folder. "Tier zero sounds insulting."

"It means you’re the first layer," Reyes said. "Baseline. The rest builds on you."

Ward checked his tablet. "Time’s up. Commander, comms flagged something."

Albert turned. "Talk."

"Signal from Reaper Three," Ward said. "Patrol over the eastern tree line. Movement near an old watchtower—north of Maren’s Ford, east of the abandoned mill. Possible demon activity. Definitely not goblins."

Reyes moved fast. She dragged another map onto the table. "Coordinates?"

Ward rattled off numbers. An analyst plugged them in. The spot appeared as a small blinking dot on the terrain display.

"Range from Aldo?" Albert asked.

"Sixty kilometers," Reyes said. "Rough terrain. Straight-line flight is easy. Ground convoy takes longer."

"Visuals?" Albert asked.

Ward pulled up a feed on his tablet and turned the screen.

The image was grainy but clear enough. A ruined stone watchtower stood crooked on a hill. Figures moved around it. Too tall for goblins. Too lean for ogres. Their forms blurred at the edges, shadow-like even in daylight.

Mira went still. "Those are lesser shades."

Ragna’s ears flattened. "Already this close?"

Albert looked at her. "Explain."

"Shades," Lyris said. "Lesser demons born from corrupted souls. They scout ahead of demon incursions. If they’re nesting near a tower, something worse is close behind."

"How do you kill them?" Ward asked.

"Fast," Mira said. "Holy magic works best. Enchanted steel if you don’t have that. But if there are too many, they drain warmth and strength from anything nearby. Ordinary soldiers freeze where they stand."

Albert’s mind moved quickly. "They’re in range of several villages?"

"Yes," Lyris said. "Three hamlets and a roadside inn within a day’s walk."

Reyes muttered, "We were about to plan, not deploy."

Ward’s jaw tightened. "We can’t ignore that."

Albert looked between the screens, the folder of names, and the three adventurers.

"Integration starts faster than planned," he said.

Mira swallowed. "What do you intend to do?"

"Test engagement capability," Albert said. "Small strike team. Air insertion. Assess demon behavior under modern firepower. You three come as advisors."

Ragna blinked. "We just joined."

"Exactly," Ward said. "Fresh eyes. Local knowledge. You know how they move, how they react. We know how we shoot them."

Lyris’s instinct told her this was insane. New allies. Unknown weapons. Demon scouts.

But then she thought of Marla’s burned fields and Tovin’s cane.

"How soon?" she asked.

Albert checked his watch again. "We can be airborne in thirty minutes."

Reyes stepped in. "We need threat filters and fallback points. I want evac routes mapped. And we don’t know how these things react to rotor wash or jet noise."

"Then we learn," Albert said.

He looked at the adventurers.

"This isn’t a command," he said. "You’re free to refuse. But if those shades move unchecked, they hit your people first."

Ragna cracked her neck. "I didn’t sign up to watch demons stroll around while we sit in a metal box."

Mira drew in a breath, then nodded. "Lesser shades now. Greater threats later if we ignore them."

Lyris tightened her grip on the table edge.

"We’ll go," she said. "But you follow our warnings. If we say ’pull back,’ you do it. You’re not immune to corruption just because you come from the sky."

Albert met her stare.

"Agreed," he said. "You give the call when local conditions turn bad. We respect it unless doing so kills us all faster."

Ward was already moving, calling out to nearby staff. "Spin up a squad. Light loadout, anti-infantry kit, thermal optics. Get Reaper Three to maintain eyes on that tower. No engagements until we arrive."

Reyes grabbed the folder and a portable tablet. "I’ll feed you ground references. Watch for corrupted vegetation signatures. Those shades like to nest in roots."

The room shifted from planning mode to deployment mode in seconds. Voices sharpened. Footsteps sped up. Screens changed to live feeds, weather data, route overlays.

Lyris watched the organized chaos, trying to fit Atlas processes into the only framework she knew—war councils in stone halls, shouted orders in muddy camps.

This was different.

Cleaner. Faster. Colder.

Albert stepped around the table and motioned to them.

"Gear check," he said. "We’ll fit you with comms and vests. Your weapons are already in the armory. You’ll get them on the way to the hangar."

Ragna grinned. "Now it feels like real work."

Mira muttered, "Your idea of ’real work’ involves almost dying."

"Almost," Ragna said. "Key word."

Lyris straightened.

"Fine," she said. "Show us how your world fights demons."

Albert pushed the intel room door open again.

The hum of machines faded behind them, replaced by the heavier sounds of a base shifting into motion.

Men and women moved with purpose down the corridor toward the hangars.

Atlas was already adjusting its plans.

The three adventurers fell into step beside the commander as he headed for the armory, the floor vibrating faintly with the distant spin-up of engines.