Chapter 134: The Spymaster’s Envoy

January 17, 222 AD.

A freezing fog rose from the earth, shrouding the goat paths, the boulders, and the sparse pine forests.

The only landmarks visible were the black mountain peaks stabbing upward through the cloud cover, acting as the sole guide for Aurelia and her lethal infiltration team...

Aurelia had only recently been appointed to this position by Isolda herself, stepping in to temporarily take her place for the duration of this operation.

While carefully navigating the icy cliffs on foot, Aurelia intensely experienced exactly how terrifying the high-altitude wind was in the open passes.

Even enveloped in the customized, double-layered wool and leather trench coats Lucius had explicitly engineered for them before departure, she could still feel the biting frost penetrating the seams of her collar and cuffs.

They had been forced to stop and ignite concealed chemical-heating pouches multiple times, pushing what should have been a grueling three-day forced march into a miserable fourth day.

"We have arrived at the designated coordinates," Camilla whispered.

Aurelia raised her spyglass and peered through the swirling mist.

She realized the mountain ridge ahead had physically dipped, forming a defensible basin.

A fortified Roman city built directly into the terraced hillside emerged faintly from the fog.

This was their exact operational target... the capital fortress of *Virunum*, the beating heart of Noricum’s iron industry!

"We break formation here," Aurelia commanded quietly. "Maintain absolute noise discipline. Ensure none of the outer Praetorian patrols detect our footprint."

"The Forge Master explicitly ordered me to maintain high-angle overwatch," Silas grunted, checking the percussion cap on his scoped, breech-loading sniper rifle. "I will secure the southern ridgeline."

"And the Forge Master explicitly ordered me to establish an extraction point in the valley... just in case you actually lose your temper and attempt to stuff the Roman Prefect into a burlap sack," Camilla smirked, drawing her twin trench-knives.

Suddenly, the blinding squall of snow shifted, slightly parting the fog that hindered her vision.

All of a sudden, the layout of the fortress became clear...

A dark limestone wall sat roughly two hundred meters away, extending out from the jagged mountainside, perfectly linking the urban center to the impassable cliffs like a protective dome.

The wall was reinforced, but due to the blizzard, the Roman sentries had retreated into their heated guardhouses, leaving the outer parapets exposed.

Aurelia slipped into the shadows, advancing toward the blind spot of the wall where the curvature of the masonry met the natural rock face.

She unspooled a length of silk rope and swung a padded, three-pronged grappling hook, snagging it securely on a crenellation.

Within seconds, she scaled the surface, realizing she was already successfully on the inner perimeter of the city.

The fortress was roughly half the size of Lugdunum, designed more like a condensed industrial town than a sprawling cultural metropolis.

Because *Virunum* was built vertically into the rocky mountains, the luxurious, marble-columned palace of the Prefect, constructed on the highest structural terrace, was visible from anywhere in the city.

After verifying that Silas and Camilla had successfully secured their tactical perimeters outside the walls, Aurelia moved like a phantom straight toward the central palace.

This specific type of high-value infiltration was not new to her, and her proficiency was unparalleled.

When she had served as a standard auxiliary scout for the Roman legions years ago, it was a common, suicidal assignment to infiltrate rival barbarian camps or minor noble estates.

Back then, she lacked advanced tactical training and was forced to rely purely on luck and shadows... avoiding loose floorboards, calculating the patrol routes of drunk guards, and praying she didn’t trigger a tripwire before stealing whatever documents she was ordered to find.

Now, equipped with the Forge Master’s rigorous training in modern stealth geometry, she could easily bypass the archaic Roman security.

Lucius had taught her exactly how to calculate the precise cone of human peripheral vision, and how to utilize the acoustic dampening of a storm.

The hidden tripwires were painfully obvious to her trained eyes, their primitive tension lines gleaming faintly in the torchlight, and she easily stepped over them.

Stepping into the largest, most lavishly decorated study at the top of the palace, she finally located her high-value target.

Although she had never met him before, Aurelia positively identified Prefect Flavius, the undisputed Lord of Noricum, at first sight based on the highly detailed intelligence dossiers Aulus had provided.

Sitting in front of a desk, waving a gold-nibbed quill back and forth across a stack of ledgers, the Patrician seemed focused on his accounting.

He was roughly thirty years old, though the stressed wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the incredibly purple silk robes he wore aged him.

After intentionally leaving a scratch on the window frame to mark her entry point, Aurelia stepped entirely out of the shadows.

"Greetings, Prefect Flavius."

Shocked by the sudden voice in his secure study, Flavius snapped his head up and saw the black-clad spymaster.

He quickly swallowed his panic, his face hardening as he demanded, "Who in the gods’ names are you?"

Aurelia briefly remembered the chaotic scenario of her first infiltration of Lucius’s tent... the Forge Master’s immediate reaction had been to draw a trench-gun and attempt to blow her head off, which, in tactical hindsight, was genuinely amusing compared to this pampered noble.

"I am Aurelia, Director of the *Umbrae*, operating directly out of Lugdunum in the Western Region. As you can clearly deduce from my presence in your guarded sanctum, I am an infiltrator."

"I assumed as much, as no one can bypass my Praetorians without an invitation unless they are a professional assassin." Flavius pretended to maintain his aristocratic calm, though he slowly, slid his right hand deeper into his sleeve. "You should have formally presented yourself at the main gate."

"Then I would have been welcomed by a hail of arrows from your perimeter guard, not you." Aurelia laughed softly. "Do not worry, Prefect. I do not intend to assassinate you tonight. I merely require a diplomatic conversation... so you will not need to trigger that spring-loaded dart concealed against your forearm."

This surgical piece of tactical knowledge genuinely surprised Flavius, and his haughty face grew distinctly pale.

"You possess a terrifying amount of intelligence." He slowly withdrew his empty hands, crossing them over his chest. "Very well. Why exactly are you trespassing in my palace?"

"I bring you a formal proposition from the Lord of Lugdunum, the commander of the Syndicate armies... the Forge Master, Lucius Cassius." Aurelia bowed slightly, "He is forging a new industrial order across the European continent, one that will overwrite the corrupt laws of the Roman Senate, and he demands your immediate assistance."

"Lucius... Cassius?" The Prefect frowned, his arrogance returning. "The disgraced engineer who was laughed out of the capital?" With an utterly absurd, mocking look on his face, Flavius scoffed, "This is ridiculous. The Lord of Lugdunum? He is nothing more than a doomed rebel who was banished to a frozen Gallic wasteland! Consul Valerian will crush him by spring!"

"Consul Valerian is the true usurper, relying on obsolete tactics," Aurelia stated, her eyes narrowing. "And the Forge Master will dethrone him and shatter the Senate before the year is out. But his inevitable victory is beside the point... The Syndicate requires your vast veins of magnetite ore and your master metallurgists to forge our electrical infrastructure. Would you mind signing an exclusive trade agreement with Lugdunum?"

Prefect Flavius was silent for a long moment before his eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening a Roman Patrician, or is this a genuine invitation?"

"It is an invitation, obviously," Aurelia replied, her tone flat. "The Forge Master does not believe in coercing the nobility. In fact, neither do I."

"In that case, I refuse your proposition," Flavius answered without a second of hesitation. "If Lucius Cassius genuinely requires my master metallurgists and my magnetic ore, he can march his armies to the gates of Noricum and grovel for a trade agreement like a Roman. There is no need to send an assassin sneaking into my sovereign palace in the dead of winter. Furthermore, if your presence here attracts the attention of the Praetorian Guard, I will not guarantee your safety."

The arrogant rejection was exactly what Aurelia had expected...

It was improbable to convince a wealthy, paranoid stranger to agree to such a massive industrial concession.

Generally, within the Umbrae, there were only two viable methods for handling stubborn Patricians...

Lethal coercion or massive financial bribery.

However, Aurelia possessed strict orders not to execute either option tonight.

Prefect Flavius was the undisputed Lord of Noricum. Yet, Lucius had no intention of flattering the Roman elite or paying their exorbitant bribes.

His ultimate goal was to strip all power from the aristocratic bloodlines.

According to the Forge Master’s textbooks, this concept was called the absolute centralization of state authority.

In Flavius’s mind, signing a treaty with a rebel would be degrading his noble bloodline to the level of a plebeian.

As for convincing Flavius to abandon Rome simply to join an industrial republic and fight in the impending war, Aurelia knew he would never believe her words alone...

"I understand your position." Aurelia gave a salute. "In that case, I shall take my leave."

"Hold on..." Flavius looked genuinely shocked, half-rising from his chair. "That is it?"