Chapter 13

“The sheer difference in the amount of information we have access to now versus what it was like in Re-Estize never ceases to amaze me.”

“How you managed to live in such ignorance for so long never ceases to amaze me.”

A self-deprecating smile appeared on Ludmila’s face. It certainly did feel that way, so she did not disagree with Nabe’s remark.

Meticulous surveys; aerial surveillance; divination magic; information management. In the past, even if one knew of their existence, it was just something they had to live without. Even a tiny fraction of what was available in the Sorcerous Kingdom would be an exorbitant luxury in Re-Estize. The resources required simply did not exist or were too expensive to maintain to any significant degree.

“The place that you and Momon hail from,” Ludmila asked, “is it like this there as well?”

“It is immeasurably superior,” Nabe answered immediately.

It was a small wonder why Nabe perceived E-Rantel and its people the way she did. The duchy probably felt little more than a primitive backwater to her. That Darkness had even chosen to act on the people’s behalf…perhaps it was out of sheer pity.

Liane Wagner’s assertions over how far behind their little corner of the world was held little meaning for Ludmila at first. It wasn’t until she was made to realize just how ignorant she was that true appreciation for her friend’s sentiments started to set in. As time passed and slow progress was made, the situation that humanity was in only grew increasingly dire in her eyes.

Having lived in Warden’s Vale for her entire life, she had no real sense of how much more advanced their neighbouring nations were. She had been to Feoh Berkana, but it wasn’t the best of comparisons considering the Dwarf Kingdom’s declining situation since the Demon Gods’ rampage. Still, the surviving examples of architecture and craftsmanship in their ancient capital pointed to a past with culture and artifice far beyond anything in Re-Estize.

After travelling for most of the afternoon, Ludmila and Nabe now stood in the shadows of a small forest a half-dozen kilometres east of the most recent arson. The location had an old creek bed that had long since dried up. Hidden in a bend of the gully that ran through the trees was a hollow at the base of a limestone outcropping.

“Looks like someone used to live here, alright.”

Out of the depths of the hollow, Andrei appeared. He unbent himself after clearing the confined space.

“Any idea who it was?” Ludmila asked.

“Humans, probably,” Andrei answered. “It doesn’t have any of the common Demihuman leavings, at any rate. Whether it was Druids or bandits that lived here I couldn’t tell. Whoever it was, they’ve been gone for years.”

“How much room is there inside?”

“It widens out into a nice big cavern about forty metres in. Could fit a hamlet in there.”

“Great,” Ludmila nodded. “We’ll set up in there. House Völkchenheim won’t take any issue with this location, I assume?”

“I doubt any of the people will show up here, so it should be fine.”

Ludmila turned her gaze up towards a gap in the canopy.

『You’re clear to land.』

A dark speck appeared in the twilight sky. The speck was followed by more, growing larger as they descended. Robes fluttering in the wind, two dozen Elder Liches floated down into trees.

Andrei glanced about as they settled to the ground around them, placing a nervous hand on the pommel of his sword. Ludmila suddenly realized that, while he might be able to sense their presence, he couldn’t see them.

“You can dispel your invisibility now,” she said.

As one, the Elder Liches removed their enchantments. Andrei gave a startled shout.

“Sorry Andrei,” Ludmila offered an apologetic smile, “I should have said something before they came down.”

“Are so many Elder Liches really necessary?" Andrei replied in unsteady tones, “I know Lord Völkchenheim gave you permission to bring in the Undead, but you could wipe out four or five cities with this.”

The truth was that they had already been well on their way before she proposed her plan to Count Völkchenheim. As Ludmila was there by the King’s order, there was no need to defer to the will of the local lord, even if they were higher-ranked than her in normal circumstances. Despite technically not requiring his ‘permission’, it was good that she had his cooperation in the matter.

“They’re not here to wipe anything out,” Ludmila told him. “They’re here to help with surveillance.”

“…I sure hope so.”

Looking at him curiously, Ludmila wondered what the man was thinking. Just how Fassett County had met its fate so quickly was a mystery to most. The summaries provided to the nobility stated that ninety per cent of the population had been exiled, but Andrei had shown little confidence in the central administration or the Undead. Or her, for that matter – maybe he thought she had used Elder Liches to raze Fassett County.

They moved into the cave at the rear of the hollow. As Andrei had described, a good-sized cavern lay not far within. The flow of water echoed lightly over the stone: apparently, the creek above had not dried up – it had simply moved underground at some point.

Traces of the former occupants could be seen on one side of the cavern – rusted tools, old rags, rotted wooden boards and an old fire pit. What was left gave no real indication as to what the cave had been used for. Based on how she had located it, however, Ludmila held her own suspicions about the place.

The ‘caterpillar maps’ that Nabe was so disparaging of were not only a result of poor quality or limited resources. How they had been made spoke of the territory’s history. One could see how the people spread over the land and what each noble had prioritized in the past. There were also the accumulated efforts at enforcing law and order, where Adventurers and militia rooted out bandit hideouts, discovered smuggler caches and fought to drive out Demihuman tribes.

On the other side of things, one could discern certain locations that were purposely left alone. Coercion, bribery and the desire to hide one’s illicit activities led to the creation of safe havens for crime and corruption. By comparing the old maps to those created by Lady Aura, these locations became very apparent. The cave that they stood within was one such place.

Shortly after her arrival in Völkchenheim county, Ludmila had gone and perused the county records, making comparisons with the up-to-date maps of the administration. Her initial thought was to look for places where holdouts of organized crime still existed. Then, she realized that their existence was unlikely. Any locations of that nature would have been cleaned out during the initial sweeps of the newly annexed duchy.

With Lord Völkchenheim’s request that they not disrupt the daily life of his demesne with the presence of the Undead, she took the opportunity to confirm whether her hunch about the maps had been correct.

“What was Crosston like before Count Völkchenheim took over?”

“Hmm…not so great, to be honest,” Andrei’s voice echoed through the cavern as he looked around. “Nowhere near as bad as Fassett County, but there were still some major issues. The two Baronial families that fled after Katze were pretty terrible, while the rest weren’t that far behind. Baroness Allard came afterwards, of course, and your group found her clean.”

“So the rest of the Count’s current vassals…”

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“They weren’t groomed for rule,” Andrei told her. “Sure, you can pick up on some of their familial attitudes, but they were all raised to be ladies, not lords.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nabe asked.

Andrei gave Ludmila a tense, sidelong glance. His relief was visible when she supplied an explanation.

“Noble scions are raised with legal realities in mind,” Ludmila said. “The expectations between boys and girls are different, as is the way they are taught to conduct themselves.”

The implications of law and its effect on cultural practices came naturally to Ludmila, but Nabe appeared to be at a loss.

“Men inherit before women,” Ludmila explained. “This is not only for noble titles but also in regards to charters, contracts of tenancy and any property a family might own. Families only invest as much as they can afford when it comes to grooming their heirs. The children most likely to inherit receive priority.”

“The noblewomen of E-Rantel appear to be doing far better than the noblemen I’ve seen in Re-Estize,” Nabe pointed out. “They have, of course, received assistance from His Majesty, but Lady Albedo considers them better suited for their roles. If it is as you say, and families focus on equipping their male heirs, how can this be?”

“It goes back to children being an investment,” Ludmila replied. “While men are raised to rule, women are expected to marry into other families: fostering relations between houses, supporting their husbands and having children. This is what Andrei meant by the fact that the noblewomen here were ‘all raised to be ladies’.”

Nabe kicked a stone and watched the brief disturbance as it plopped into the nearby creek. Going by her ignorance on the matter and the fact that she was a powerful Adventurer, it probably wasn’t something that sat well with her.

Male ‘spares’ – sons so far down the line of inheritance that they did not receive any attention from their families – often sought a way out of their circumstances by finding employment in the household of a wealthier noble, becoming Adventurers, merchants or trying their luck in cities. If they were fortunate, they might even receive a handout from their families who were only too happy to be rid of them.

It was much harder for women of noble birth to escape the fate of being married off, should they desire their own ‘freedom’. Noblewomen were a valuable commodity that their families were loath to let go of. Even if they found work as maids in other households or priests in temples, arranged marriages would still find them as they were still ultimately answerable to their parents.

“I see,” Nabe said. “So you’re all breeders.”

Andrei went into a fit of coughing, and Ludmila’s mouth fell open.

“Family is important!”

In her Undead state, she wondered how she could be so indignant.

“I don’t see what that has to do with the noblewomen inheriting in E-Rantel being better administrators.”

“It’s not that part in particular,” Ludmila replied. “It’s everything else. In Re-Estize, political courts are the arena of men. Men are also expected to make major decisions as the head of the family. They also have military obligations to their liege. With this being the case, noblewomen are expected to have the skills to keep a noble house in order while their husbands are away on business. If I had to put it in any one way, we’re raised to be the stewards of the house that we marry into. The sort of political boldness and aggressive ambition that people attribute to noblemen is not very common in Re-Estize’s noblewomen. Instead, we work from behind the scenes, supporting our families and doing our best to ensure smooth operations.”

“This is not the case in E-Rantel,” Nabe pointed out. “Noblewomen are in charge of all but three of the houses.”

“The fact that we are does not change how we were raised,” Ludmila said. “It’s not that we’re lacking in ambition or initiative – it’s just that our approach to things is fundamentally different. This fundamental difference is most likely the reason why the Prime Minister considers us ‘better suited’. We were raised to be accommodating and flexible because that was what our future demanded of us. It just so happens that the transition to the new government and the introduction of so many new systems is best handled with our mindset.”

Nabe remained silent, seemingly uninterested in further discussion. Ludmila found a dry, flat area of the cavern floor and pulled out her maps of the observation area. She called the Elder Liches together and started placing different-coloured markers over locations on the map.

“The last arson was in this village here,” she pointed to a red marker. “We are operating on several assumptions. The first is that our target is attacking active production bottlenecks in an effort to disrupt this territory’s flow of resources. Population centres have been untouched so far, so that leaves the lumber mills. The black markers are the locations that have already been attacked. Our second assumption is that our target does not intend on attacking locations outside of Völkchenheim County. They are also not attacking any of the territories under Count Völkchenheim’s direct control…”

After her summary, Ludmila went on to divide the Elder Liches into six groups of four. Each had one Elder Lich assigned to coordinate with the other three in its group. The Elder Liches would summon four wraiths to be invisibly deployed over potential target areas. They couldn’t station summons everywhere, but the Wraiths would easily spot any smoke drifting into the sky. Their summoners would immediately be made aware and relay the information to the group commanders.

Once this happened, their forces would converge to create a large cordon outside of the reported location. The Elder Liches would work to identify and question those leaving the area. Rural residents only occasionally travelled from their home villages and the ones here were even less likely to with the recent wedding festivities in Crosston. As long as their mysterious arsonist wasn’t using some advanced technique to escape notice, they would be quite noticeable transiting the countryside.

After spending time answering their questions and reviewing points she thought might have been misunderstood, she dispatched the Elder Lich teams to assume their vigil. Andrei, who had quietly observed the briefing, walked up to Ludmila as she watched the Elder Liches make their way out.

“That took longer than expected,” he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“We don’t spend nearly as much time issuing orders to the Elder Liches sent here as administrators,” Andrei explained. “It doesn’t seem necessary – they do their work all the same. I’m sure you could have just told them what to do.”

Ludmila turned to look over at Andrei.

“What about Sanju?” She asked, “The two of you often speak at length.”

“Sanju’s been the main point of communication between House Völkchenheim and the Undead,” Andrei answered. “We needed one of the Elder Liches to act as the go-between.”

“You mean that Sanju’s the only Elder Lich that you speak to?”

“Pretty much. As I said, it’s unnecessary.”

Ludmila placed a hand on her hip, glowering down at the cavern floor.

“It is,” she muttered.

“Beg your pardon?”

“It’s necessary,” Ludmila told Andrei. “The Death Knights I might be able to understand since they’re ridiculously untalkative most of the time, but there should be no excuse with the Elder Liches.”

“What? I don’t really get it. It’s not like they’re interested in hearing about how my kid’s just starting to learn how to walk.”

“You don’t need to talk about your personal life,” Ludmila said, “but you should at least be working with them. Sanju and the other Elder Liches had to train in order to do their jobs properly. They may seem impressive when it comes to certain tasks, but they’ve only learned the basic skills to function as administrators. From what I’ve observed, the people here treat Elder Liches and Death Knights as tools to be employed when the situation calls for them and stored away otherwise. This stance is wrong. They can think and learn. They have a desire to improve and excel in His Majesty’s service. They should not be treated like tools – they are more like your apprentices.”

Admittedly, the language used by the central administration and the way that the Undead servitors carried themselves did not help to convey this fact. They were too proud to bend or admit to any fault or weakness. The nobility made assumptions of their own and feared that anything they did might be considered resistance or even opposition to rule.

Count Völkchenheim, however, was lauded for his conscientiousness and regard towards even the least of his subjects. He was an individual who should have noticed and understood what was going on. Yet, he did not – he didn’t even give them a chance. Ludmila wasn’t sure whether it was because she had expected better of Count Völkchenheim or the fact that the Undead were being subjected to a double standard, but it irked her to no end.

Andrei looked over his shoulder to the coordinating officers still standing around the map.

“So all those Elder Liches…are your apprentices?”

“Whenever such a relationship can be applied, yes. The ones that just arrived are officers of the Royal Army. As a Frontier Noble, my duties include seeing to the defence of the realm. Ensuring that our forces are adequately prepared for any of the circumstances that they might find themselves in is a large part of that.”

“I see,” Andrei replied. “The Death Knights here are not an official part of the Royal Army, however: they’re more like a domestic security force.”

“There’s still much for them to learn and grow accustomed to,” Ludmila told him. “As it stands in Völkchenheim County, the Undead are being denied opportunities to learn outside of wherever you’ve hidden them away. They have next to no interactions with the subjects. The people responsible for acclimating them to the unique characteristics of this territory are not doing anything of the sort. You and the other Rangers in the service of the nobility here are in a position where you can teach them the ins and outs of the fief and how to effectively maintain its security, but you have left this task to the general orders of the Elder Liches. Is it not a bit shameful for a Ranger to leave the defence of their territory to a bureaucratic functionary?”

“I understand what you’re getting at,” Andrei said, “but it’s still something that will take time.”

“It does take time,” Ludmila agreed, “but this county has hardly taken any steps at all. You’ve only done the bare minimum of what is required of you. The Undead are not going away any time soon – the sooner you become accustomed to them, the better.”