Chapter 212: The Wolf Among Sheep
The rhythmic sound of Gideon’s finger tapping against the table was the only thing filling the tent as he carefully read through every note Laura had written.
She had already left to look after the twins. According to her, the two of them were more than capable of causing trouble if left alone for too long, and after meeting them himself, Gideon had no reason to doubt that.
Johan let out a long yawn. They had been sitting inside the tent for more than an hour, yet Gideon still hadn’t spoken another word.
Instead, he kept arranging every piece of information inside his head, trying to connect Arthur and Eagle Union’s disappearance, the Grave Flowers’ appearance, and now the arrival of these refugees.
If his theory was correct, then the Scions of the Lord had already turned their attention toward Cinder of Dusk. He knew even if his territory was on the edge of the world, they would eventually find this place.
To Gideon, that was no different from a declaration of war.
"Johan," he suddenly said without looking up from the notebook. "Your granddaughter once told me you have a sharp mind, so tell me honestly. Do you think everything that’s happened inside my territory over the last three days is nothing more than a coincidence?"
Johan stopped yawning halfway and slowly looked at him.
"No." He answered without hesitation. "You’re not wrong to think that way, Chief. The leader of a small territory has to be a little paranoid. Unlike the larger factions, you don’t have powerful allies watching your back except Freebound, and even then recently, you haven’t allowed them to influence your decisions."
A faint smile appeared on Gideon’s face. "So... am I still a tyrant?" He finally closed the notebook after reading the last page.
Johan burst into laughter. "Yes."
His answer came so naturally that even Gideon raised an eyebrow.
"But not every tyrant is a bad ruler." The old man leaned back in his chair, still smiling. "What I admire about you is how calm you stay after reaching a conclusion. At the same time that’s also the part that scares me the most."
Gideon chuckled before opening the notebook again and circling several names with a red pen.
"Call these people one by one."
He slid the notebook across the table. Johan picked it up and quickly scanned the marked names before looking back at Gideon.
"What are you planning?"
Gideon leaned back. "What do you think is the easiest way to make a zealot expose their bigotry without forcing me to draw my sword?"
Johan’s eyes widened for a brief moment before a knowing smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Insult their god. Mock everything they believe in and see who loses control first."
"Now remind me. Which god do the Scions of the Lord worship?"
"The God of Chaos." Johan’s expression gradually became serious.
"They believe the apocalypse was the world’s natural salvation and that humanity surviving it is a sin against their god." He lowered his eyes slightly. "At least... that’s what I understood from the letters my old friend sent me."
"I see. So your theory is right, then?"
Johan closed the notebook and slowly stood up. "I’ll bring these people here. As for whatever happens next... I’ll trust your judgment."
***
The ten people gradually entered the tent after Johan called their names. Some looked confused after suddenly being separated from the rest of the refugees, while others were visibly nervous, quietly wondering if they had done something wrong.
Gideon calmly observed each of them before they even sat down. Four of the names Laura had written belonged to newcomers who had only joined the Burrow a few months ago, while the remaining six were old residents who had lived there for years.
Strangely enough, they all shared one similarity. Laura described them as kind people, the type who always volunteered first, settled arguments, helped carry supplies during winter and never complained no matter how difficult life became.
Just like what Harry and his followers did to the traveler group.
"Sorry for calling you all into this small tent." Gideon smiled politely while closing the notebook in front of him.
"Don’t be nervous. If I truly wanted to interrogate all of you, there would be armed men standing behind your backs instead of Johan."
He glanced at the old man, making Johan roll his eyes before the atmosphere inside the tent became noticeably lighter.
"I’m only trying to understand the people who may become residents of Cinder Dusk. If we’re going to live together, I prefer asking questions now rather than regretting my decision later."
One by one they introduced themselves. Gideon listened more than he spoke, occasionally asking about their occupations inside the Burrow, how long they had lived there and what kind of work they usually did.
Some answered confidently while others needed time to think, but nothing immediately stood out.
Even the four newcomers had believable stories. They had supposedly arrived separately over several months and happened to settle in the same place because the Burrow accepted almost everyone.
"I heard your settlement was quite peaceful before everything happened," Gideon continued while lazily spinning the pen between his fingers.
"Laura said people rarely stole food from each other even during winter. That sounds... unusual because the leader and his group taxed a lot from you, right?"
An elderly woman smiled proudly. "Our leader was useless, Chief, but ordinary people still helped one another. If we only thought about ourselves, none of us would’ve survived that long."
"I agree." Gideon nodded. "Communities survive because people are willing to sacrifice for strangers."
His eyes slowly swept across everyone sitting in front of him. "That’s also why I find organizations like the Scions of the Lord fascinating."
Several people frowned in confusion because of a sudden change of conversation.
"I’ve never understood them. Imagine worshipping a god who celebrates plague, famine and the extinction of your own species, then convincing yourself you’re somehow morally superior because you help Them finish the job."
Gideon slowly shook his head. "Calling the God of Chaos a deity is generous. Personally, I’d call Them the greatest failure ever to crawl out of mankind’s imagination."
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