Chapter 118: Intelligence

**Chapter 118: Intelligence**

Settling into Golden Harbor, Jie Ming quickly adapted to its rhythm.

Though noisy, the city offered him a long-lost sense of freedom.

He rented a modest room, roaming the streets as “Jack” by day and returning at night to study intelligence and quietly cultivate.

Surprisingly, after dealing with Carl, no further trouble came. Perhaps his ruthless methods had truly intimidated them.

Jie Ming didn’t dwell on it. From Jack’s memories, he knew Golden Harbor had only five “legendary” figures.

If nothing happened, “lowly adventurer Jack” wouldn’t stir trouble. But if provoked, “first-level wizard Jie Ming” would emerge.

Then, it wouldn’t be solved by just a couple of deaths.

He had spared Carl partly to see if he could bait bigger fish.

For the first few days, he was excited, but Carl didn’t bite, leaving him slightly disappointed.

Still, his earlier show of force had worked.

On his second visit to the Drunken Dolphin tavern, the beastman bartender’s impatience was tinged with respect.

When Jie Ming requested a minor beast-material-gathering task, the bartender pointed with stubby fingers to a wooden staircase in the tavern’s depths.

“Hey, Jack, a tough guy like you shouldn’t waste time on lowlife jobs,” the bartender said in a low, flattering tone. “The second floor’s for real ‘strong’ adventurers like you. Bigger fish up there.”

Jie Ming glanced at him impassively and climbed the stairs.

The second floor was cleaner and brighter than below.

A large wooden board displayed various mission scrolls. Unlike the downstairs tasks paying coppers to a few silvers, these offered rewards from dozens to hundreds of gold coins.

The adventurers here were visibly tougher—muscular warriors, agile rangers, and cunning thieves, either in small groups discussing missions quietly or alone, scanning the board with sharp eyes.

Jie Ming noted most tasks involved dangerous beast lairs, ancient ruin explorations, or scouting perilous regions.

When a team returned from a high-difficulty mission, they drew envious or jealous glances.

He also noticed spellcasters were exceedingly rare, even in a bustling city like Golden Harbor.

From Jack’s memories, most spellcasters were retainers of noble families, never appearing in the chaotic Adventurers’ Guild.

Frequenting the tavern, Jie Ming befriended a middle-aged adventurer nicknamed “Old Gray,” a weathered warrior with a scar over his left eye.

Old Gray often sat alone in a corner, sipping ale.

Among the rough adventurer crowd, he was one of the few “decent” ones, though money-obsessed.

Jie Ming enjoyed his company, occasionally treating him to fine rum or sharing rare wilderness materials, prompting Old Gray to open up.

“Hey, Jack, you’re a freak. Those small fries don’t last three seconds against you,” Old Gray said, downing his drink with a belch. “But adventuring’s a deep game. On the surface, it’s work for coin, but there’s two types of us.”

He lowered his voice, wistful. “One’s like us, scraping by, risking our lives for a few coins. Even with your strength, some see you as bottom-tier.”

“Oh?” Jie Ming swirled his cup, intrigued. “What’s top-tier then? The other type?”

Old Gray snorted disdainfully. “The other type… hmph, big adventurer bands. They’re black gloves for kingdoms, doing dirty work. Guild missions aren’t random—they’re approved by local officials. Big ones involve strategic resources or politics. Nobles wouldn’t trust such tasks to unknowns.”

Jie Ming rubbed his chin. This was new; Jack’s memories lacked such details.

After all, “Jack” was just a bottom-tier adventurer.

Despite his scorn, Jie Ming caught a hint of suppressed envy in Old Gray’s tone.

“So, those elite bands are basically noble and royal lackeys, operating under the guild’s name… just dogs for the aristocracy?” Jie Ming said.

“Shh! You wanna die saying that so loud?” Old Gray glanced around nervously.

Seeing no one noticed, he relaxed, smacking his lips. “You’re not wrong, but… not just anyone can be a dog. To us lowlifes, they’re high and mighty lords.”

Old Gray grinned proudly. “But being a black glove ain’t easy. They earn big, but they’re first in the fire when danger hits.”

“Like now, with those ‘otherworldly demons’ (wizards) invading, the big bands got conscripted as elite forces for the front lines. That’s left us small fry to strut and snag jobs easier.”

“That’s good, then,” Jie Ming nodded.

Drunk, Old Gray slumped on the table, mumbling, “It’s nice, but things are getting chaotic… even here’s getting dangerous…”

Seeing him out cold, Jie Ming said nothing, tossed a few coppers for his tab, and left.

Through tavern gossip, mission postings, and observing townsfolk, Jie Ming pieced together Elosia’s current state:

The human kingdoms, long at war with the northern beastman empire and western elven kingdom, were internally unstable due to noble disputes.

The wizard invasion forced a fragile peace treaty with the other nations to resist the external threat.

But this peace was shaky, with constant undercurrents of conflict.

Recently, as the wizards’ assaults eased, border skirmishes between humans and beastmen flared up again.

The elven kingdom, isolated in ancient forests, remained highly vigilant against outsiders.

Yet, internal factions—“nature-bound isolationists” versus “active defenders of planar purity”—clashed subtly.

Dwarves, true to stereotype, stubbornly guarded ancient mines and forging traditions, wary of invaders.

Their mountain fortresses were defensible but rarely launched offensives, preferring self-preservation against wizards.

The beastman empire, worshiping primal, powerful gods, revered strength and war.

Their fierce bravery made them the primary military force against the wizards.

Initially, they fought due to human promises of supplies, but with the wizards’ pressure easing, shortsighted human nobles began reneging.

The plane’s core was its pantheon.

Elosia’s gods had clear roles: the God of Life and Fertility, the God of Death and Souls, the God of War and Conquest, the God of Wealth and Trade, and more.

Except for the supreme god, others relied on devotees’ prayers and offerings for faith power to cast divine techniques and intervene in the mortal world.

On his first day in Golden Harbor, Jie Ming visited a historic but quiet chapel, posing as a devout follower and making small, regular silver coin donations.

Feigning interest in divine teachings, he spent half a month building rapport with low-ranking priests and clerics.

Through casual chats, he gleaned deeper insights.

The gods were highly wary of the wizard invasion, viewing it as a severe threat.

But their true fear wasn’t the mortal world’s fall—it was the wizards stealing their faith.

Without faith, even mighty gods would weaken.

Jie Ming sneered inwardly; this matched workshop intelligence perfectly.

The wizards deliberately exposed “weaknesses” and “goals,” showing intense interest in planar laws and faith power to deter gods from reckless self-destruction.

This ensured the gods, weighing costs, wouldn’t risk a cataclysmic final battle using the plane’s origin against the wizards.