Chapter 12

How should I even report this?

Florine tapped her pen against a blank sheet of paper as she sat at the desk in front of her tent, from which an endless stream of loud snores emitted. The potential development of issues along the border with the Holy Kingdom of Roble was something that she had been wary of since being dispatched to the Abelion Wilderness, but the problems she was facing now were coming from odd and unexpected angles.

It was a good thing I spent that week with Ludmila…

Was it intuition or simple happenstance? Since she had consciously decided to go to Warden’s Vale to consult with her friend, it was probably the former. She was missing something essential in her perspective and she felt that speaking with Ludmila was a chance to address that deficiency.

The problem was that she didn’t quite understand what Ludmila was talking about at the time and was sceptical of some of her most alien points. Philosophically speaking, Ludmila functioned in an entirely different manner from pretty much everyone else that she knew. It only became apparent when things stopped meshing correctly and all sorts of oddities started popping up.

It wasn’t until she arrived in the Abelion Hills, where Rangers and Druids – or ‘hunters’ and ‘mystics’ – had a heavy influence did the various topics that they had discussed start to make more sense. Even this early into her work, the fact that nearly everything that she thought would work actually wouldn’t was made abundantly clear.

She had time to figure things out, however. Lady Albedo was likely well aware of how challenging the task was, given the lack of a time limit and the incredibly low bar she had set for success. Neither Florine nor Lady Albedo was willing to settle for the bare minimum, of course.

Unfortunately, domestic affairs that she could take her time figuring out how to address properly had suddenly become wrapped up in foreign affairs. Florine found herself in the strange position of being a Human on the side of Demihumans against Humans and the country of said Humans had a historically poor relationship with said Demihumans. Said Human country was also supposedly on good terms with the Sorcerous Kingdom and were following patterns of behaviour that they considered perfectly right and normal.

“Of all of the things it has to be,” she muttered, “why water?”

It was so innocuous that one almost wouldn’t be wrong to call it insidious. The Abelion Wilderness lay in the rain shadow of the Southern Border Ranges, making water a precious commodity. Even on the border with Roble, with its proximity to the sea, the climate was still relatively arid.

Beyond the wall, however, Roble had a wonderfully mild climate with plentiful rain driven by the western trade winds. Sticking the Great Wall where it was made it seem like they were trying to keep their little paradise to themselves. No, it was almost definitely the case.

“Lady Gagnier,” Isoroku asked, “would a request for climate amendment not resolve the issue?”

“I’m not sure that it would,” Florine answered, “but it’s an unacceptable resolution. The reckless actions of a foreign power are having adverse effects on the livelihood of our citizens. Roble’s expansion is effecting a permanent change and resorting to climate amendment not only ties up a bit of Lord Mare’s mana indefinitely, but it also doesn’t stop Roble from maximising the damage that they’re causing. Actually, it would reward them for doing it. Climate amendment covers a wide area, so their new industrial development will benefit from the expenditure of resources that we’re using to fix the problems that they’re causing in the first place.”

“Then what would you recommend?”

“I don’t have a recommendation, yet,” Florine replied. “I’m not even sure if this is something that can be solved with a recommendation. At its core, it’s an issue revolving around a certain perspective and the behaviours that stem from it. Telling them to not do something will only have them stop doing that particular thing in this particular instance. If they perceive benefits in doing it elsewhere, then they’ll keep doing it elsewhere.”

“Is that any of our concern?” The Elder Lich asked.

“Of course it is,” Florine answered. “Our foreign policy goals mandate the strengthening of diplomatic ties between the Sorcerous Kingdom and the other nations in the region. With those ties come certain associations and responsibilities. Roble might appear to be stuck on a peninsula, but His Majesty’s reign will bring unprecedented prosperity to the region. Those who partake of that prosperity will have the means to expand their influence. If pioneers from Roble sail off to places unknown and try turning every place they touch into farmland, they’re going to end up with a bad reputation and a whole lot of enemies. All of that will transfer to us by association.”

“Would the reaction be so extreme?”

“They’re rendering the land uninhabitable for other races,” Florine told Isoroku. “An antagonistic response is perfectly justifiable. Here, however, we are in a position where we may be able to influence their worldview and thus preemptively prevent problems of this nature from occurring in the future.”

At least there was that. The good thing about being exposed to new concepts and modes of thinking was that it became easier to perceive and grasp even more after that. They had plenty of opportunity to allow diplomacy and the exchange of ideas to take its course.

“What if they refuse to change their behaviour?” Isoroku asked.

“Then we would need to make demands,” Florine answered. “If those demands are not met, punitive measures would be required to enforce them.”

“Waging war with the Holy Kingdom of Roble does not appear to be in line with our foreign policy goals.”

“Having a willfully ignorant gang of idiotic ‘allies’ constantly dragging His Majesty’s name through the mud isn’t, either. The punitive measures in question don’t necessarily have to be war, anyway. It merely has to be an effective deterrent. An embargo that effectively exceeds the economic benefits of developing this land, for instance.”

“Based on what you’ve shared with me in the past, would that not also hurt the Sorcerous Kingdom’s economic prospects?”

“Strictly speaking, it would, but the alternative is far worse. As the regional hegemon, we need to show that we can keep the affairs of our own house in order. No one will take us seriously, otherwise.”

Florine’s sense of disgruntlement grew as the discussion went on. She wanted to believe that Roble would see reason, but the slimy feeling that she got from Lord Reynaldo kept bothering her.

If what she had seen so far was indicative of his country’s outlook and attitudes – or at least those of the country’s decision makers – the need to resort to punitive measures seemed all the more likely. The problem was, that, while she said that a punitive response to their lack of cooperation would be perfectly viable, it wouldn’t seem that way to most of the countries in the region. People from places like Roble and Re-Estize simply didn’t have the same appreciation for water as those from places like the Abelion Hills did. Of course, they understood that one would die without water, but, at the same time, they also considered it a free and plentiful resource.

“What of the petition about the activities in the bay?”

“Oh, that one’s easy,” Florine replied. “Assuming that everything is as the Monachini claim, what they’re doing is unquestionably an attack against our citizens. They’re only doing it because they think they can get away with it due to technicalities, and attacking our citizens to pursue historical grievances won’t qualify as a valid justification.”

“As far as I know,” Isoroku said, “Our ratified treaties with the Holy Kingdom of Roble do not cover any of the problematic activities occurring here.”

“Diplomacy is not a static affair,” Florine said. “I’ve gone over those treaties – they’re very basic and can only really qualify as a single cornerstone of our relationship with Roble. A fully-fledged relationship with all of the requisite agreements will take at least several years to develop and those agreements must be kept up-to-date with our geopolitical and socioeconomic realities. Since you brought up the topic of treaties, however, it would be a good idea to visit Queen Oriculus. She maintains hundreds of maritime treaties, so she should know all of their ins and outs.”

Not to mention the fact that every maritime treaty Queen Oriculus maintained seemed to end up creating fast allies and she had nurtured those relationships to the point that they led to those allies moving to confederate with the Draconic Kingdom the moment it was realistic to do so. If the Sorcerous Kingdom could achieve the same success with its ongoing expansion, it could minimise conflict, avoid bureaucratic inefficiencies, and invest more time and effort in productive pursuits.

“Pip!”

Florine looked over her shoulder to find Sergeant Vidal emerging from the tent with a yawn. She smiled in greeting as he turned a still-sleepy eye on her.

“Good evening, Sergeant Vidal.”

“Evenin’ m’lady,” the man rubbed an eye. “Coulda sworn I saw a bird on your head just now…maybe I’m still dreamin’.”

“You had a dream about birds?”

“Er…sure. Let’s just say it was about that. ‘Scuse me while I go and clean myself up.”

The Sergeant ambled away toward the stream with another yawn, stretching his arms as he went. At first, Florine thought that people were politely ignoring the fact that Liolio was perched on her head, but it turned out that they didn’t notice he was there. Even knowing that he was there, Florine couldn’t see him whenever she examined her appearance in a hand mirror.

Florine rose from her seat and set out a meal from one of her preservation containers. Before Sergeant Vidal returned, however, Zztztl and his band appeared from upstream.

“We believe we have located the Humans that you seek,” the Drthr Ranger said. “They had the air of hunters returning from a raid. We stalked after them until they arrived at a small camp populated by many other Humans.”

“How far away are they?”

“Not far, but they are within the buffer zone. Judging by their distance to the edge of the brushland, a single one of their warbands should be able to conduct four or five raids a day.”

“Are they raiding?”

Zztztl seemed to pause in thought.

“They do not return overly burdened, but we cannot discern whether they carry any spoils or not.”

“Sergeant Vidal,” Florine said as the man came back from the stream, “how many times have you encountered these individuals that Lord Reynaldo is having problems with?”

“Since they started doin’ what they’re doin’,” the Sergeant replied, “not even once. They’re all scouts from the army, so we pretty much got no chance of finding ‘em unless we’re already waiting wherever they hit next. ‘Course, they’ll see us before we see them so that’d never happen.”

Florine held out the plate with Sergeant Vidal’s breakfast on it.

“…so Lord Reynaldo is just running around to reassure the labourers?”

“Pretty much,” the Sergeant eyed the meal prepared by Chef Pyrus. “I didn’t know you ate the same food as us.”

“The Chef that prepared this was trying his hand at some recipes from your country,” Florine said. “How does it compare?”

“The Chef…”

Sergeant Vidal glanced at the assorted Demihumans around the camp before receiving the plate. He took a bite out of the battered fillet, filling the air with a soft crunch.

“Mm,” he chewed vigorously before swallowing. “Not bad. Pretty good, actually. We can only have this sort of thing back in town and the inns are getting all scrimpy with their portions. Whoever made this didn’t hold back.”

The man took another bite before sticking his fork into a slice of fried potato.

“Anyway,” he said. “Lord Reynaldo’s losing. He can run around all he wants trying to reassure everyone, but it’s become clear that he can’t do anything about those scouts. Things’re going to turn ugly sooner or later.”

“Lord Reynaldo said that it hasn’t come to blows yet,” Florine noted. “Are you saying that they will?”

“When it does,” Sergeant Vidal replied grimly, “it won’t be between him and the scouts.”

Florine narrowed her eyes at the implication.

“I’m not sure I heard that correctly,” she said.

“I’m pretty sure m’lady did. The labourers are gonna give up eventually and that piece of shit’s gonna order his men to beat ‘em until they start working again.”

“I can’t believe something like that would be legal in the Holy Kingdom.”

Sergeant Vidal gave her a long look before letting out an equally long sigh. He stared down at the half-eaten meal on his plate.

“You’re a good lady, m’lady,” he said. “Real smart, too. Smart enough to know that it don’t work that way with people like our good Lord Reynaldo.”

Florine’s sigh echoed Vidal’s own. Going by his words, judicial authority in Roble functioned in a similar manner to that of Re-Estize, Baharuth, and the Sorcerous Kingdom. The Noble presiding over a fief was responsible for maintaining order and meting out justice. Only a Noble’s liege and the crown had any right to interfere with the process.

Additionally, as it was part and parcel of any contact of vassalage for a liege to defend their vassal in court, any charges brought forward by commoners or outsiders – which included Nobles of the same country – would almost always be dismissed. If there was any restitution to be had, it was done privately so as to not undermine the collective authority of the establishment.

Of course, this behaviour wasn’t limited to aristocrats. Guilds defended their members, villages defended their residents, and families defended their relatives in a relatively similar fashion. The main difference was how much authority was vested in the people involved, which in turn dictated how much oversight they could be subjected to. One wouldn’t be wrong to say that Human law was a product of Human nature and whatever ethical paradigms the value systems of a society gave rise to.

“Since you put it that way,” Florine said. “Where do you stand on the issue we’re investigating?”

“Where a little guy like me stands don’t really matter,” Sergeant Vidal said, “but I guess I’m on Lord Reynaldo’s side. I hate the guy as much as anyone else, but the scouts ain’t doing what they’re doing because they hate Lord Reynaldo.”

“Then why are they doing it?”

“I dunno. Some nonsense about leaving perfectly good farmland alone.”

“It is not nonsense,” a hiss escaped Zztztl’s mandibles. “A tribe that does not heed the wisdom of its hunters is little more than a collection of fools.”

Sergeant Vidal took a step back, his eyes going back and forth between Zztztl and Florine.

“We should meet these scouts before they perform another raid,” Florine said. “No matter how justified they feel about their actions, those actions are still unlawful. There must be a reasonable way to resolve this.”

Zztztl led them out of the camp, following the shallow valley upstream. Along the way, they ran into Tik’okl and his band.

“I suppose you’ve found them, as well?” Florine asked.

“The Human hunters move,” Tik’okl answered. “They have dispatched a small raiding party.”

“Do we have any chance of intercepting them?”

“Yes. They are following this stream to the hewn lands, heading directly toward us.”

“Um…hide? I don’t want to scare them off.”

Everyone scattered, leaving Florine alone by the stream. She stood there awkwardly, feeling more and more stupid as the minutes passed.

“What the–shit! Nymph! Don’t look or you’ll go blind!”

The panicked warning was the first sign that anyone else was nearby. Florine bunched her hands over her chest, peering cautiously about.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“I, um, I’m not a Nymph,” she called out. “It’s alright to look!”

Her mouth snapped shut. What was she saying?

The bushes rustled several metres away.

“Stop, kid! It’s a trick! She’s going to spirit you away to her bower and ravish you until you never want to leave!”

A young man roughly the age of Liam stepped out from the bushes. It seemed that the dire warning wasn’t effective enough.

“Hello,” Florine smiled.

“H-hi,” he smiled back.

“I’ve come to speak with your party about what’s going on here,” she said. “Would it be possible for me to speak to your leader?”

“Sure,” the young man replied, then looked behind him. “Captain?”

“Gods damn it!” An older man emerged from the shadows and came forward, “I’ll talk, so release your hold on my man!”

“…I’m not actually doing anything,” Florine said.

The Captain frowned and looked at his subordinate.

“What?” The young man looked back at him.

“My name is Florine Kadia Dale Gagnier,” she spoke into the silence between them, “I’m currently serving as Viceroy of the Abelion Special Administrative Area. I’ve received some concerning petitions from our citizens along the border. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

“The Sorcerous Kingdom? But I thought that…are you a Nymph, after all?”

“I’m a Human,” Florine lowered her hands, tapping the tips of her fingers together patiently. “With whom am I speaking?”

Like Lord Reynaldo’s men, the two in front of her were adorned in the surcoats of Roble’s Royal Army. Unlike them, the scouts were lightly armed and armoured. They wore cloaks that blended with the greenery and had a quiver at each hip. The longbows that they held were nearly two metres tall.

“Rico Ortega, my lady,” the older man replied. “Captain of the First Division’s First Scout Company.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain Ortega,” Florine said. “A rather confusing situation has developed on the border. If you don’t mind, could you help me understand what’s going on?”

“A bunch of greedy idiots is what’s going on,” the Captain grated. “Those parasites are hell-bent on sucking the land dry!”

“Our citizens along the border share in your position,” Florine told him. “Even so, why did you decide to take this…approach? We’ve heard claims of desertion and vagrancy.”

“We haven’t deserted,” Captain Ortega spat. “We’re doing our jobs! Now that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s taken over the Abelion Hills, we scouts are basically foresters or watchmen depending on where we’re stationed. The damn people running things out here aren’t listening. I sent my lieutenant to inform the Royal Court, but these brats won’t wait for a response. All we can do is slow them down until someone from Hoburns comes out and talks some sense into them.”

Florine frowned inwardly at the Captain’s account. Too many things didn’t add up.

“I’m not intimately familiar with Roble’s inner workings,” she said, “but shouldn’t your report have gone to your superiors in Kalinsha?”

A company Captain going straight to the Holy Kingdom’s Royal Court with a problem was about as ridiculous as Ludmila going straight to the Sorcerer King with one.

Captain Ortega looked down at the stream. She could hear his teeth grinding from where she stood.

“They’re in on it, my lady.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The army’s in their pocket!” The Captain told her, “Anyone that can legally stop them, anyway. If I sent my man to Kalinsha, they’d burn the report and lock him up. It has to go to Hoburns.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Florine asked, “Lord Reynaldo?”

“Reynaldo…” The Captain sneered and spat, “He’s just a thug doing his father’s bidding.”

“Then who is the cause of this?”

“Too many people are the cause of this,” Captain Ortega sighed. “Half the country’s gone mad with greed and the other half’s gone mad from starvation. Reynaldo and his ilk are part of the former; his slaves are part of the latter.”

“Slaves? But I thought they were labourers hired to clear the land…”

The Captain snorted.

“Technically, you’re not wrong. All those starving wretches that you saw out there are debt slaves. The war took everything from the north, Lady Gagnier. Our families. Our possessions. Our food. More than half of the survivors sold themselves into slavery just so they could eat.”

“But we’ve been sending you food…”

“Uh-huh. And guess who’s responsible for distributing it? The northern Nobles might’ve given a damn about their tenants, but the southern ones that volunteered to help ‘manage’ things now that they’re gone certainly don’t treat them as their own. Everything’s just an opportunity for them. The food you’re sending for free isn’t being given out freely, but it’s being used to get free slaves. All the lands that’ve been left empty in Jaldabaoth’s wake are prizes to compete over. The wilderness out here is free for the taking now that there aren’t any Demihumans to hunt them down.”

“I do not like what I hear, Human.”

Zztztl’s voice hissed from overhead. The Drthr detached himself from the branches and landed beside Florine, leaning forward with his dagger-sharp forelegs raised. Captain Ortega rolled back into a defensive crouch, brandishing his rapier and stiletto.

“Are you saying that these tribes you speak of would wither our territory for nothing?” Zztztl trilled in a malevolent strain, “We fought against Jaldabaoth with the Sorcerer King. I have seen your lands, Human. They are lush and green and wet and we are told that your population is half of what it was before. All have lost grievously, yet your kind reaches for that which they do not need!”

The creak of unseen bows came from the surroundings. Florine touched Zztztl’s spiky shoulder.

“Captain Ortega is not the problem here,” she said softly.

Zztztl withdrew with another, frustrated, hiss, folding his forelegs in front of him. Florine turned her attention back to Captain Ortega.

“How has it become like this?” She asked, “What is their motive? I’ll be upset if it’s simple, unthinking greed.”

“That’s all that I can think of, my lady,” Captain Ortega straightened again, sheathing his blades with a loud sigh. “Everything’s just gone wrong. Prince Caspond…he laid out a bunch of policies after the end of the war. Ones that should’ve gotten us back on our feet real quick. But it all got twisted.”

“Can you recall the details of these policies?”

“They made sure everyone knew,” the Captain nodded, “and they could be understood by everyone. It was all about restarting our industries and rebuilding the economy. Growing enough food for the winter even with the missing harvest and lack of labour. No one questioned it because it all made sense and everyone got to work. The best part was that the Prince included incentives that were open to everyone.”

“Such as?”

“Honours. Titles. Stuff that only Nobles and heroes usually get. But these ones were for things that even commoners could do. Farmers that could pull in a bigger harvest with more land get to keep the land that they did it with. Fishermen are rewarded for bringing in bigger hauls. Same deal for people pulling in more construction materials. Artisans and Merchants are included, as well. More nails; more tools; more infrastructure. Moving more things around. You could even get a title for…hmm, what did they call it – ah, being a ‘promising industrialist’. Can you imagine that? A nobody becoming a Knight or a Baron through hard work alone.”

“That’s not out of the ordinary,” Florine told him. “Any country in your scenario would promote the rise of talented and capable individuals. Offering titles is one of the usual ways a kingdom would do that. Actually, the Baharuth Empire continually does that for exceptional military or civil service.”

“…really?”

“Really.”

While Roble was in an ideal location for Human habitation, it was also land-starved. The creation of new titles in the generations before Jaldabaoth’s appearance was likely a rare, if not unheard of, thing.

“Oh. Uh, anyway, where was I…the people were all about it. It was like they were living a dream with unlimited opportunity. Then, somehow, it turned into a nightmare. I don’t know how it happened, but people started to see other people as competitors in the worst of ways. Obstacles. Enemies.”

“But you’ve just been through a war,” Florine said. “How could anyone think like that with all the work ahead of you?”

“That’s what I thought,” Captain Ortega replied. “That’s what everyone thought. Right up until the point it happened close to home. Then, it was like a sickness took the people’s minds. The week before I left Kalinsha, I had to respond to thirty-two workshop arsons and those were the ones that happened during my shift. Sometimes, one of those damn workshops got attacked multiple times on the same day. One time, a labour camp run by a rich fellow was hit and the night wind drove the blaze straight up the coast through the refugee camps nearby. Twenty thousand people died, just like that. Even Farmers were getting in on it, lighting their neighbours’ fields on fire if they think they’re going to ‘lose’. Then, the retaliation…it never ends.”

Florine could only respond with a dumbfounded shake of her head. What in the world was going on? For some stupid reason, her only coherent line of thought was that she was thankful it wasn’t Jaldabaoth’s doing this time, at least.

“That’s when I left,” the Captain said. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. Demons and Demihumans, I can fight, but watching my own people eat themselves alive like that after all we’ve been through…I took the other men who were just as sick of it as I was and came out here where we thought we could at least do some good.”

“Captain!” Someone called out from the bushes, “It’s Rodriguez.”

“Rodriguez? But he’s…ah, shit. Beg your pardon, my lady. Bring him over!”

A short, dark-haired man in uniform appeared from the side.

“Captain, where the–woah…a Nymph?”

“Sure, why not?” Florine smiled.

“What happened?” Captain Ortega asked.

“That should be our line!” Rodriguez answered, “We waited for so long that a patrol found us. Some of the men got caught by Reynaldo.”

Captain Ortega cursed under his breath.

“Apologies, my lady,” he said, “I need to go and rescue my men.”

“Will you resort to violence?” Florine asked.

“Knowing what Reynaldo will do,” the Captain answered, “I don’t have any good options.”

“Then allow me to come with you. Perhaps I can offer an alternative solution.”

The Captain nodded once before walking past her and down the stream. Before they reached her camp, he went up an animal trail, heading west.

“If you believe their lives are at risk,” Florine said, “I could demand that you and your men be released to my custody. You’ve been basing yourself in the buffer zone, after all.”

“…what’s the penalty for that in the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“Our judicial processes are very comprehensive,” Florine told him. “Your presence and activities in the buffer zone would be considered policing measures, so, if there are any penalties at all, they would be superficial. Unfortunately, I can’t say what would happen should you return to Roble after that.”

Their pace slowed as they approached a different part of the same clearing that Florine had visited the previous day. Harsh voices carried on the night wind reached them long before they came out of the snarl of vegetation.

“Serves ya right, criminal scum!”

“Let ‘im have another lick!”

An anguished cry filled Florine’s ears, transforming into a hoarse shriek. The laughter of dozens of men rose in accompaniment. Captain Ortega stormed forward, nocking an arrow to his longbow.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Reynaldo!”

A cacophony of shouts came in response, punctuated by the ringing of drawn steel. Florine emerged to find Lord Reynaldo’s men facing the edge of the clearing with arming swords in hand. From the vegetation, over four dozen longbows were levelled at them, arrows nocked and at the ready.

On one end of Lord Reynaldo’s group, Lord Reynaldo himself stood near a small tree, torch in hand. Next to him, a naked man dangled from a branch by his bound wrists. Tears dripped off his chin as he weakly wept.

“Disciplining a deserter, of course,” the lordling said. “As is my right.”

“You’re no Baron yet,” Captain Ortega snarled.

In response, Lord Reynaldo smiled and shrugged. Then he shoved his flaming torch into the dangling man’s crotch. The lordling’s smile grew into a savage grin as the man thrashed and shrieked again.

“Were you going to do something?” Lord Reynaldo asked, “Oh, that’s right: you can’t. You have no authority here. This isn’t your post and you’re certainly no rebel…or so you claim.”

The men and women of the scout company sent glances at their Captain. Captain Ortega fixed Lord Reynaldo with a stone-faced glare.

“If Baraja was here…”

“Baraja?” Lord Reynaldo snorted, “The Night Watchman? The cornerstone of our Great Wall’s defence? Or do you mean his Paladin whore? Even if your mentor was alive, how could you imagine that anyone who failed to defend our country could have any clout in this situation? Hmm…surely you don’t mean their raving lunatic of a daughter…”

“Have you no sense of gratitude, you bastard?”

“I am no bastard!” Lord Reynaldo roared, “I am a trueborn de Silva, and you are nothing but a vile traitor. Seize them!”

Captain Ortega’s bluff called, Lord Reynaldo’s men advanced with cocky smiles.

“Stop.”

Florine stepped out from her place in the bushes. Lord Reynaldo’s men faltered, exchanging confused looks with one another.

“Ah, Lady Gagnier,” Lord Reynaldo turned his disgusting smile on her. “As you can see, I have everything under control here. You may return to–”

“Silence.”

A line of crimson gazes emerged from the shadows as her escort appeared from the brush. Florine walked over to the tree, looking up at the burnt ruin of the man hanging there.

『Free him.』

Her Shadow Demon flickered into the darkness above the branch, slicing apart the rope suspending the tortured soldier. Florine clumsily caught him and knelt to rest his head upon her lap. Oozing cuts covered his bruised body and his eyes were swollen shut. The flesh of his legs and hips was burnt and cracked, peeling back to expose the bone beneath.

She reached into her Infinite Haversack for a healing potion, pouring it out over the man’s wounds. Rather than sigh in relief, he screamed in renewed agony as his flesh returned and then stopped healing partway. Florine quickly used another healing potion stroking the man’s sweat-soaked hair. His screams turned into a whimper before he finally fell silent, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Florine finally turned her attention to the power-drunk reprobate.

“What could possibly possess you to do something like this?” Her furious gaze went to the lordling’s men, “How could you simply watch? Laugh? Is this what the Holy Kingdom is like? The proud bastion of our faith?”

The only answer to her questions was silence. That silence, however, was eventually replaced by the thunder of distant hooves.

Points of light appeared in the darkness, resolving into torches held aloft by a column of shining plate mail and spotless barding. When they finally came into the range of her Darkvision, Florine noted that their surcoats did not sport the colours of Roble’s Royal Army, instead displaying the Holy Kingdom’s crest in cerulean on a field of white. They brought their warhorses between Reynaldo’s men and the line of Undead. The man at the head eyed both sides before he spotted Lord Reynaldo.

“Lord Reynaldo,” he said in a strong, steady voice. “Would you care to explain what’s going on here?”

The lordling opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Florine let out an annoyed breath before releasing him from her hold.

“…I can talk?”

Florine’s lip twitched as his question was received with a dubious look by the new arrivals. Lord Reynaldo coughed and cleared his throat.

“As you can see,” he told them, “I was about to bring these deserters to justice, but their activities so close to the border have dragged the Sorcerous Kingdom into it. The Demihuman raid yesterday was their fault, as well.”

Oh, you just didn’t–

“You pile of Lanca dung!” Captain Ortega shouted, “I’m going to put an arrow through your lying tongue!”

“Brother Sanchez,” Lord Reynaldo said, “could you please deal with this unreasonable warmonger?”

“What?!”

“Ortega,” Brother Sanchez said. “Hoburns sent word about you sending your man to them.”

“Good! What did they say?”

Brother Sanchez reached into one of his saddlebags, producing a scroll with a wax seal. He unfurled the parchment as one of the other riders drew close with torch aloft.

“By order of His Royal Highness, Prince Caspond Bessarez, Captain Ortega of the First Division’s First Scout Company, along with the First Scout Company as well as any other service members accompanying him are ordered to return to their posts. Amnesty has been offered for your transgressions so long as you resume your duties at once.”

“…but what about the report I sent along with my man?” Captain Ortega said. “Lord Reynaldo has been destabilising the border with his reckless actions. He’s making the people work all day on half rations and he was just torturing one of my subordinates not five minutes ago!”

“My orders only concern you, Captain,” Brother Sanchez said. “I haven’t been authorised to do anything else. You can make your report with the garrison Commander when you get back. Honestly, the Order is already swamped with everything that’s going on. The country’s best scout company running off like this only means that the people suffer all the more.”

A long silence fell between both parties. Florine pondered the surreal scene. On one side, a rank of Death Knights was covering a group of soldiers fighting to do what was best for the Holy Kingdom. On the other, a rank of Paladins was protecting a collection of villains dragging the Holy Kingdom into a mire of corruption and moral decay. Truly, truth was stranger than fiction.

The silence was finally broken by a long sigh as Captain Ortega stepped out between the Death Knights. He walked before the row of Paladins, casting a withering glare at Lord Reynaldo before kneeling to check on the condition of his subordinate.

“He’s alright now,” Florine said. “I used two high-quality healing potions. They’re made from the finest ingredients in Warden’s Vale.”

“Warden’s Vale?”

“The fief of a friend of mine. She’s a Ranger running a frontier territory so it feels like wildland more than anything else.”

“Huh,” Captain Ortega said. “That’d be a sight to see.”

“…I can still arrange for it.”

Captain Ortega rose to his feet again.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, “but you heard Brother Sanchez. I’m a son of Roble, Lady Gagnier. My battle is here. By the way, what will happen with the border?”

“What’s going on here affects our citizens, so you can be sure that something will come through the official channels.”

“Good,” the Captain nodded. “In that case, it’s time for us to get back to work. It’s been a pleasure, Lady Gagnier – you remind me of our late Queen in a lot of ways.”

A pair of Captain Ortega’s men came to carry the tortured man away. Florine stood by silently as she watched a long column of men and women disappear into the night. When the last of the soldiers vanished, she suddenly realised that the slimy sensation that she had associated with Lord Reynaldo was still there. It didn’t take long to pin down what she was feeling.

This country is sick.

It was several orders of magnitude worse than Fassett County. Something unspeakably vile had infected the Kingdom of Roble.