Chapter 6

『Do you smell anything?』

『No.』

『I think I smell something.』

『Do you want to smell something?』

Liane was pretty sure it smelled like something. After reading the reports, she figured it had to.

A mere day had passed since Clara had received word of Corrin-on-the-Lake’s liberation. Now, their barge was sidling up to one of the city’s piers.

Queen Oriculus’ court immediately made preparations to transfer the government and start sorting out the surrounding provinces. At first seemingly sluggish and ridden with deliberations, the Nobles of the Draconic Kingdom now processed information and acted upon it with startling efficiency and speed. As she watched the Ministers and their aides prepare to disembark, Liane wondered what sort of weird magic Queen Oriculus had worked over them. It would be great if she could do it, too.

“Double time! Get to your stations and secure the surroundings!”

On the pier next to them, one of the companies from Highfort disembarked and marched out into the city. They were followed by another company, and then another. If configured properly, the Sorcerous Kingdom’s barges could ferry a lot of passengers.

All along the wharf, other vessels were disgorging their passengers and contents. In the first wave alone, ten thousand ‘relief workers’ and everything required to support their operations arrived from downriver to help with the situation in the countryside, and there would be forty thousand more by the evening. Even more would be coming in from the other parts of the country over the next few days. They spread out across the wharf, and soon the recently-reconquered city looked like its original population had never left it in the first place.

Water transportation was really something. And the Draconic Kingdom was scary. If one related what was happening before them to a High Noble from the north or even a General of the Imperial Army, they would laugh and say that such feats of mass mobilisation were absolutely impossible.

Yet, the Draconic Kingdom could do it. They did it so smoothly that they may as well have been doing it for their entire lives. Then again, they had been doing it for generations.

Once the court enacted something, the expected bureaucratic quagmire didn’t follow. Orders were filled before they were even sent out, and it wasn’t a surprise to anyone but Liane and her friends. Officials didn’t go to workshops and warehouses with government orders, they came with enough wagons to take those orders away. Because they knew that it would be ready. Because the people knew what needed to be done without needing to be told. Because they had done it all before.

People didn’t wait to be called. They came out on their own dressed for work with tools in their belts, offering the skills that they understood would be in demand. Childcare was provided for every family and no one was left to languish alone with their ailments. Even those laid low by their ordeals under the Beastmen seemed to fight for every bit of their recovery, chomping at the bit to get in on the action.

A sense of unified purpose filled the steps of every man, woman, and child. An atmosphere of satisfaction suffused the surroundings as the people worked together to restart the gears of industry and breathe life back into their lands. All of the little inefficiencies that one might expect out of people and their network of interdependencies were next to nonexistent.

Things that Liane predicted would take two weeks often only took two days. Sometimes, not even a day. She never knew that Humans were capable of such feats. Rather than the scenes of a people long-harried and exhausted, struggling to rebuild their ruined lives, she was instead witnessing a juggernaut come to life…and it filled her with both awe and fear.

If this was what their long relationship with the Beastmen had created, then what would happen now that the Beastmen were no longer a problem? What she had at first thought were baseless arrogance and foolish pride when their delegation’s economic proposals were first rejected no longer seemed that way.

“The spring that comes after the winter,” Florine murmured. “I thought I understood what they meant when they first said that, but now I know I had no idea…”

“You mean the ‘best times’ thing?” Liane said, “That might be true, but it still doesn’t explain all this.”

She gestured to the flowing crowd on the wharf. Humans they might be, but they could put even ants to shame.

“Because the greatest things in life are what one builds together with others, Countess Wagner,” Queen Oriculus’ youthful voice came from behind them. “It is a simple truth that is all too easily forgotten; lost when one becomes isolated or too self-serving. And when that truth is lost, all manner of problems arise as people try to replace it with other things. Those problems are common in northern aristocrats, as you may know.”

“What sort of problems, Your Majesty?” Liane asked.

“Hmm…how does one say this?” The Queen’s slender finger tapped lightly on her chin, “Placing importance on things that aren’t actually important? Empty notions of honour. Misconstrued scales of prestige. The pointless pursuit of wealth and unbridled economic growth. In all of Our years, every member of every diplomatic delegation from the north has brought these problems along with them. It is amusing, in a way, but my Nobles experience no end to confusion when the symptoms of those problems surface in their interactions with foreigners.”

“Isn’t it normal for anyone to have at least a few angles?”

“Of course,” Queen Oriculus replied, “but there is such a thing as too much. And, to those people, it has become all that matters. Evidently, it is sufficient to survive on, but it is far from what is required to live.”

She felt a touch on her wrist just before Florine took her hand in her own.

“Wagner understands this well enough, Your Majesty,” Florine smiled. “Well, it’s better to say that she does things that demonstrate that understanding without knowing that she understands.”

“So We’ve noticed,” Queen Oriculus smiled back. “The four of you wield power that even Kings and Queens would envy. Since you are seeing success here, We can only imagine that that power will grow. With that power, however, will come problems that even Kings and Queens would find daunting. It would be nice if you don’t let either consume you. Always remembering that simple truth will go a long way toward that.”

“Thank you for your advice, Your Majesty.”

A metallic bang sounded as the barge’s ramp was extended to the stone wharf. Two dozen courtiers assembled on the deck. Clara came around with Prime Minister Yorsten, chatting amicably with the shorter woman.

“Countess Corelyn,” Queen Oriculus said, “how fare things in the countryside?”

“The Beastmen are in full flight further east, Your Majesty,” Clara replied, “Our follow-up forces are cleaning up those that are falling behind. The cavalry squadrons have extended their patrols up to the end of the lake on either side, so there should be no problems with civilian traffic so long as they respect the boundaries of the safe areas we’ve cleared.

“As for the people, it should be as the army’s reports have described. We don’t have the time or resources to conduct a thorough investigation of every single village, so only outstanding issues are being reported. The rest will be in the hands of the relief workers being deployed to the surrounding provinces.”

“Umu,” the Queen nodded. “What of the Beastmen in the southern provinces?”

“Captain Zahradnik should be conferring with Marshal Saroukhanyan in Foca Bay this morning,” Clara replied. “So far, our patrols along the southern foothills have encountered no Beastmen.”

“It’s the deluge, after all,” Queen Oriculus said. “Unless they receive word to mobilise, the Beastmen should be sitting snug and dry wherever they are.”

Booted steps came up the ramp, culminating in the appearance of Marshal Zorlu. The tall, dark-haired man was dressed as a soldier, though efforts had been made by someone to distinguish him from the rest. Going by how fancy it looked, it wasn’t his doing.

“Your Majesty,” he lowered his head, “the route has been secured to Castle Corrin.”

“How does it look in there?”

“Empty, but it’s going to smell like Beastmen for the next little while. The whole city is.”

“On that note, Your Majesty,” Florine said. “Wagner and I should get going.”

“Are you sure about going without an escort?” Queen Oriculus asked.

“Our current security measures are satisfactory,” Florine answered.

“Is that so? Well, please do enjoy yourselves. It would also please Us if you join us for lunch in the castle.”

“It would be our pleasure. Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty.”

With that, Florine walked off with Liane firmly in hand. Liane tested her grip with a few experimental tugs.

“Why are we doing this again?” She asked.

“Because this is the first city that the Beastmen have actually inhabited,” Florine answered. “I want to see what it’s like before they change things back to the way they were before.”

They made their way past the warehouses and offices of the harbour district along a canal that led further into the city. Like the other urban centres that they had visited in the Draconic Kingdom, Corrin-on-the-Lake displayed the same styles of architecture as Oriculon. The way that the city was designed, however, was entirely different. This was especially odd since a capital was usually imitated by the other urban centres in a country.

Situated between two major rivers that joined the Oriculon at its namesake lake, Corrin-on-the-Lake was demonstrative of the distinct differences between the Draconic Kingdom’s cities and those of the northern Human nations. The exotic architecture of the Draconic Kingdom was far from the cause. It was more a matter of its character.

In terms of land area, the city was six times the size of E-Rantel, making it roughly the same size as Arwintar. However, according to the Draconic Kingdom’s census records, Corrin-on-the-Lake only had half the population of the imperial capital. Furthermore, while nearly half of Arwintar was dominated by its First-class District filled with government buildings, high-class estates and expansive gardens, the administrative core of Corrin-on-the-Lake was restricted to a small area around the city’s citadel. There were no aristocratic estates: only high-class apartments in close proximity to the government offices. Combined with the castle, they only took up about a tenth of the city’s total area.

As a result, there was far more space for the citizens. Wide streets and plazas shaded by trees and greenery abounded. Flowing water featured heavily in the city’s design. The canal that they were following created a keyhole-shaped waterway inside the city, forming a moat around Castle Corrin and providing convenient lake access for the entire population.

Perhaps the weirdest thing of all was that the city had no discernible slum or pauper’s quarter. Every part of the city was nice, clean and shiny. They were serviced by the same variety of shops, industries and amenities and enjoyed the universally exceptional infrastructure of the Draconic Kingdom.

Rather than Oriculon, Florine and Ludmila felt that Corrin-on-the-Lake and its sister cities around the country were the true representation of the Draconic Kingdom. The capital was merely a show put on for visitors from nearby Human countries – one meant to comfort foreign dignitaries with their familiarity. Or maybe it was to keep them from realising how luxurious living in the Draconic Kingdom was compared to their home countries.

Stolen novel; please report.

Not that it was the wrong move. Foreign observers used all of the things that Corrin-on-the-Lake had in spades as a metric for how well a country was doing. It would be difficult to ask for help when everything about your country was so damn idyllic. ‘Oh, it’s only like this when we’re not being eaten by Beastmen’ probably wouldn’t curry any sympathy.

How nice the place was probably pulled double duty whenever help from the Theocracy arrived. Their forces would see a paradise for Humans being defiled by filthy Demihumans and their fanaticism would soar to even crazier heights.

Everything that Liane saw of the Draconic Kingdom spoke of the work of a masterful architect – politically, economically and culturally. And that master architect was Draudillon Oriculus.

“If only they could have put this much effort into their military,” Liane muttered.

“They probably put three times as much effort into their military,” Florine said. “You should know the costs involved in maintaining a standing army. As callous as this may sound, military expenditures in the Draconic Kingdom are resources, talents and time entirely dedicated to training people to be as hard to eat as possible. And they still get eaten within a few years. All of this construction looks expensive, but the fact of the matter is that the Beastmen don’t eat their infrastructure so it’s an investment that lasts for generations and one that is essential to their cycles of recovery.”

“You sound more and more like Ludmila every day.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? And I can’t imagine for a moment that you actually care about what they’re doing beyond being exposed to interesting new concepts.”

“Speaking of new concepts,” Liane frowned up at the trees overhead, “this is going to be a whole lot of ammunition for the treehugger camp.”

“I don’t think they’re wrong…”

“Yeah, and you sound more and more like Ludmila every day.”

Despite not actively developing them, there were a number of factions growing in the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Royal Court and its House of Lords. At first, there were the factions headed by Lady Shalltear and Lady Albedo, but the conflict between them was less serious and more silly. Then there were the ‘food’ and ‘vermin’ factions, which were similarly headed by Lady Shalltear and Lady Albedo, but Lady Shalltear told them that they were better off not knowing what it was about. All they needed to understand was that they were part of the ‘food’ faction, whatever that was.

More relevant to Liane and her friends was the slow formation of the ‘nature faction’ – or treehugger faction, as Liane liked to call it – which was nominally headed by Lady Aura and Lord Mare. At first, it was a tiny faction with a handful of members, and its opposing ‘progress faction’ held sway. As more and more Demihumans came under the Sorcerous Kingdom’s dominion, however, the nature faction had swung to an overwhelming majority.

Ludmila was a staunch champion of that faction, and it was one of the few things that she tried influencing others over. The thinking shared by the members of that faction was the reason why Clara and Liane’s new urban developments had so many trees, open spaces, fountains and flowing water in them.

If Liane were to be perfectly honest with herself, incorporating those elements was a nice touch. Luxurious, even. But it was also wasteful and expensive.

Just like how foreign dignitaries gauged the situation of a country by examining indicators like infrastructure, so, too, did people in general. Nobles, especially, were sensitive to them.

A minor Noble who had a large village with an inn, brewery, and a few shops was a damn proud Noble. And rightfully so. A prosperous village meant that they were doing their job well, which in turn indicated that they had a prosperous demesne. Their people were happy, they were happy, and their liege was happy. Or at least the average person wasn’t suffering and prospects for development weren’t utterly abysmal.

This thinking, of course, went up the scale. A High Noble wanted a prosperous town. A Great Noble wanted a prosperous city. Their people wanted to see the same thing because it represented opportunities for themselves and their families.

Ludmila also desired a prosperous demesne, but the way she saw things and what she considered ideal was very different from the average Noble or even the average person.

Economic realities tended to dictate the design of Human urban centres. A city block was jam-packed with apartments and workshops in an attempt to fit the most people and industry into the least space, minimising the cost of building materials and maintenance while optimising land utilisation and maximising rent. Every square metre not being put to productive use was that much less being put toward further development.

Planting a tree meant eight fewer apartment suites. A small plaza took up the space of ten workshops. Having space meant using more space that could have been used for something else, fewer people paying for more infrastructure, and lower population densities to drive commerce with. There was an opportunity cost to everything, and thus people recognised certain patterns in development that indicated how well-managed and prosperous any given place was. That was why any rural tenant got all starry-eyed when they saw the ‘big city’ or even just the local town.

When most people looked at a bustling metropolis like Arwintar, they saw the might, wealth and power of the Baharuth Empire. Ludmila, however, saw an abhorrent scar upon the land. A dehumanising place where ninety per cent of the population was stored in the most cost-effective manner possible when they weren’t being exploited to drive the wheels of imperial progress.

The closest thing to the ideal pattern of development for the nature faction was Ludmila’s demesne, which was currently slated for less than a twentieth of a per cent urban development, two per cent agricultural development and the rest was either ‘managed natural area’ or left completely wild. When Ludmila described what her urban development would ultimately look like, Liane figured it may as well have been lumped into the ‘managed natural area’ category.

Now, with the Draconic Kingdom providing a working example of low-density urbanisation employed on a country-wide scale, Ludmila was bound to press the case of the nature faction even more strongly. Meanwhile, the other Nobles of the Sorcerous Kingdom, who had already reached the limits of what land they had, could only look at the vast stretch of nothingness in the southwest in envy and confusion.

They crossed over a stone bridge flanked by statues and magical lamp posts. Liane examined the fine carvings as they walked by each of them, and then something odd about their surroundings occurred to her.

“Ludmila didn’t order the army to clean this place up before leaving, right? Except for the body snatching part.”

“That’s right,” Florine said, “why do you ask?”

“If that’s the case,” Liane said, “why is it so clean? Barring the bloodstains, I mean.”

Florine frowned at her question, then went over to open the door to a nearby home. It smelled like dog, but the interior was spotless.

“Maybe I should rewrite those parts in the next volume of Dreams of Red,” she said.

“What parts?”

“The one describing the conquered cities of the west. It’s probably not realistic.”

“I don’t follow…”

Florine walked into the building, turning with a gesture of her hand to the living room around her.

“These people migrated here,” she said. “It was their home. Of course they would try and take good care of it. Cities would take damage in a siege or when they’re being stormed, but would the conquerors just leave it ruined if they intended to stay? This isn’t the first example we’ve been exposed to, either. The first thing Lady Albedo did when E-Rantel was annexed was clean it up. She even had the pauper’s quarter torn down and replaced.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Liane wiped a windowsill with a finger. “But I don’t think the average Human would keep it this clean. Our Maids would have zero work to do here.”

“Maybe they’re naturally that clean? They have keener senses, after all. Or maybe there’s a reason why their maintenance is so fastidious. We’d have to know more about the place they came from.”

They left the house and continued their investigation of the city. Florine stopped every few buildings to look inside, examining their contents in the hope she would gain some insight into the Draconic Kingdom’s long-time nemesis.

“Oh yeah,” Liane said, “did you see that Ludmila nabbed another Beastman Lord?”

“I did. The Royal Army’s Intelligence Division took him away, though. I hope I get the chance to speak with them.”

“Aren’t you a part of the Intelligence Division?”

“I do work for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,” Florine shot her a look.

“So you’re a spy.”

“A diplomat!”

“Same difference,” Liane grinned. “What you’re doing right now is basically spying. And you won’t even talk about what you do for Lord Demiurge. That’s not suspicious at all.”

“It’s just foreign affairs stuff! I know you’d think it’s boring so there’s no point in going over it.”

There probably wasn’t. Florine spoke at length about Ogre rites of adulthood and its fascinating implications once and Liane fell asleep about two minutes in.

Their wanderings took them to the city’s western wall and then wound back and forth along it until noon approached. On their way to Castle Corrin to join Queen Oriculus for lunch, they found a pair of Elder Liches standing under the entry arch of an apartment. The blue-grey bands on their arms marked them as members of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s general staff.

“What’s goin’ on?” Liane asked.

The Elder Liches turned to regard her. One of them responded in a dry, slightly nasal voice.

“Routine reconnaissance sweeps have detected an anomaly. We arrived to investigate.”

“What sort of ‘anomaly’?”

“A Beastman of the ‘Nar’ variety.”

“That’s one hell of a thing for Ludmila to miss,” Liane said. “Whatcha gonna do?”

“We are currently deliberating on a course of action.”

She didn’t see what there was to deliberate over. According to the army’s reports, most Beastmen were relatively weak, so they’d be no match for two Elder Liches.

“May I speak with them?” Florine asked.

The Elder Liches exchanged a look.

“There is no prohibition regarding your request,” the first Elder Lich answered, “but it remains to be seen whether the individual in question is capable of speech.”

“Did their mouth fall off?” Liane asked.

“They are undeveloped,” the Elder Lich replied.

“You mean it’s a child,” Florine said.

“That makes even less sense,” Liane crossed her arms. “We’re here to get rid of the Beastmen, so why not just get rid of it?”

“Since this is no longer a designated war zone, there are…ethical considerations to be observed.”

“The Royal Army concerns itself with ethics?” Liane frowned, “Since when?”

“Our actions must always be in line with the Sorcerous Kingdom’s foreign policy goals. Analysis indicates that reprocessing living beings below a certain age results in undesirable feedback from other parties.”

“…that’s one way to put it, I guess,” Liane said. “But there’s no one to generate ‘undesirable feedback’ here.”

The Elder Liches stared at her. Liane could almost feel Ludmila staring at her through the Elder Liches. Of course it would be her. If Liane didn’t know her, she would have called Ludmila an insane hypocrite for being able to slaughter hundreds of thousands of Beastmen and then spouting ethics over a single Beastman baby a day later. But she wasn’t an insane hypocrite: she was just insanely austere.

“There have been other precedents studied,” the other Elder Lich said. “Such as the case with Lady Pestonya and Lady Nigredo. That incident was far more problematic, yet His Majesty reportedly stated that theirs was the correct interpretation of our Master’s will.”

“In that case,” Florine smiled, “I’m going in. Where is the child?”

“On the third floor of this building. At the end of the hall behind the right door.”

Florine opened the door to the apartment. Liane trailed after her.

I bet it’s going to attack her. Wait, do baby Beastmen count towards that thingy?

It was worth the attempt. When they reached the third floor, Liane’s steps slowed as she watched Florine open the door and go in. The latch of the door clicked as Liane shut Florine into the room.

“What–”

Liane spun on the Elder Lich that followed them in, holding her finger up to her lips. Florine’s muffled shriek sounded through the door, followed by a thump. Liane’s ear drifted closer to the door.

“Florine?”

She couldn’t hear anything.

There’s no way she’d get hurt. Right? She has all that equipment. And a Shadow Demon…

A lump formed in the pit of her stomach anyway. Her hand reached for the latch and she opened the door a crack.

“Florine…?”

“Shh…it’s alright. You’ll be okay…”

Liane opened the door all the way. In the corner of the room, Florine was curled up against the wall, rocking a striped bundle in her arms. Liane took a step forward. A mewling sound filled the air as the Nar cub started to cry.

“Don’t be scared,” Florine said in a soothing voice. “I won’t let that evil Human Lord hurt you. Are you hungry? Liane–”

“You’re not keeping that,” Liane said.

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

“Have you seen how big those things get?” Liane told her, “How are you going to take care of it? You’re already crazy busy. Just give it to Ludmila. She’ll throw it back at the Beastmen.”

Florine rose to her feet.

“How could you say that?” She scowled, “Look at how beautiful he is!”

Her friend held the Nar cub between them. The Nar cub swatted Liane in the face.

“Yeah, sure,” Liane said. “I can already picture him hunting Goblins in E-Rantel.”

“We can send him to the Demihuman Quarter,” Florine pulled the cub back to her breast with a nod. “That’s an excellent idea, Liane.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I meant the orphanage. It’s in the Demihuman Quarter.”

Florine resumed rocking the Nar cub back and forth with a sad smile.

“There has already been so much death,” she said. “Lady Pestonya and Lady Nigredo should know that their goodness continues to save lives – even if it’s just one.”