Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 20 - Chapter Pr

Prologue

In the three weeks since the subjugation army set up camp in front of Fort Tilt, they attempted to penetrate the defending Mikoshiba barony army’s fortress through countless siege battles. Each time that had happened, Queen Lupis’s army faced showers of arrows, boiling oil, and pebbles that cost them significant losses.

And the actual victims who paid for those losses with their bodies were interned in a tent set up in the subjugation army’s encampment. But they were not sent there to be treated.

The sour scent of sweat, the stench of blood, and the pungent smell of pus oozing from wounds hung over the tent. Once this cocktail of odors assailed his nostrils, Adam grimaced in disgust.

Adam was an average middle-aged man whose appearance was relatively neat. He was wearing plate armor, implying he wasn’t a first-time conscript for this battle. His short blond hair and well-kept mustache were further proof of this.

Nevertheless, he didn’t look much like a member of the nobility. While he was clearly a capable knight, he looked less refined and more like a muddied mercenary who lived and died on the battlefield. But his appearance not matching his position was only natural. Even though Adam was a member of the

Rhoadserian royal guard, he had a commoner background.

I never wanted to come to this place to begin with.

Such were Adam’s honest emotions, yet he couldn’t refuse an order from his superior. As such, he followed through and kept an eye on the injured, starting with this tent.

Besides, considering who gave me that order...

The man Adam had in mind wasn’t his usual superior. His current superior officer was a member of a count family of some repute who took advantage of his pedigree to do as he pleased. This behavior made him one of the more unpleasant and uncouth members of the royal guard.

Of course, the man was not incompetent since he had achieved the rank of company commander in his midthirties. Still, talent didn’t always match one’s behavior and nature. While being in the royal guard guaranteed his position in society and paid him quite well, Adam regarded his commanding officer with scorn and distrust.

Besides, he was only his superior within the framework of the knight order; he wasn’t his liege or leader. Adam’s loyalty lay with Queen Lupis, not him.

But his communications with her were limited to one time—during the decoration ceremony when he was given the title of knight and she told him she expected his loyal service.

A single knight with unextraordinarv service meant only to occupy a post, like Adam, couldn’t hope for a deeper connection with the queen. Regardless of what a knight said on the surface, they couldn’t swear utmost loyalty to someone they hardly knew.

The fact that his direct commander was the scum of the earth made the situation much worse. He was as stuck-up and intolerable as most nobles were, and his only redeeming quality was his relatively well-kept appearance. There were many times when he charged Adam with unreasonable tasks and put him through a great deal of pain.

In such a work environment, knightly virtues and a retainer’s self-discipline felt like nothing but empty platitudes. Despite everything, Adam had very little loyalty to his country and monarch.

However, he obviously couldn’t be outspoken or vent his frustrations about the issue. Nobles and royalty being intolerable stuck-ups was nothing new, but recklessly complaining or objecting to them would only result in him paying dearly for his insubordination. Though he was a low-ranking knight saddled with many menial tasks, Adam was still a member of the knight class who received a stable income. From a commoner’s perspective, this was a blessing that was scarce and better than having nothing to one’s name.

With this position, Adam didn’t feel motivated enough to fulfill the task given to him. At worst, he would much rather act like he was engaging in field work while lazing about or pushing that task onto someone else.

But if Adam’s secret sponsor ordered him to do this task, he wouldn’t cut corners. After all, they paid him nearly ten times his usual wage and granted him all sorts of other benefits.

Even if he is on the want right now, his power is not to be trifled unth...

His sponsor was a man who once held the greatest authority in the Rhoadserian kingdom, with many nobles gathering under his banner during the previous civil war. While Queen Lupis and her allies’ machinations had weakened his group’s political power, diminishing to a shadow of its former self, he still led the most prominent faction in Rhoadseria. So with that in mind, treating that man poorly was a suicidal act.

This was why people, Adam included, continued following his orders. Despite the hideous sight he faced now, that sense of duty felt irrelevant.

The stench is unbearable... The town I grew up in smelled terrible, but this is even worse than that.

He pressed a cloth against his mouth and nose to block the stench, but it was so intense that it still suffocated him. In this world, baths were a rare and expensive commodity. Most commoners could only wash in rivers and streams running near their cities, and mercenaries that weren’t lucky enough to have access to that had to make do with wiping with wet towels.

In modern society, body odor and smell harassment were major issues. If one were to neglect their hygiene to such an extent, people would move away from them in the outdoors or try to shut them if they were indoors. Some people would even find fault with others over the fragrances applied to their wet tissues and hair products.

But this wasn’t modern society, and that logic didn’t apply. Cesspools and manure dumps were the only way to dispose of human excrement, and livestock was raised outside in the cities. That made living in those places difficult for those not accustomed to the stench of animals.

Those of modern society weren’t familiar with and thus couldn't stand the stench of animals, but this scent was the norm in this world. As such, the standard of what counted as “stench” to the commoners in a world with no hygiene standards was quite high.

In Adam’s case, he was born in the slums of Pireas but had gained considerable social status and a better life. As far as the city’s class system went, he came from the lowest of backgrounds, so his tolerance for bad smells was higher than most.

But the stench rising from this tent was intolerable, even for the people of this world and their low standards, and very few people could stand being around that tent. It was several times worse than any cesspool.

It smells like hell on earth. WTidf a gruesome ivay of treating the injured If I had to go through this, id have preferred they just put me out of my misery and be done with it

The tent was near the subjugation army encampment by Fort Tilt, where over a dozen men were lying on mattresses inside it groaning and moaning in pain. Most of them were in a delirious state of half-consciousness. Since they were still raising their voices in agony, they were likely alive but were in no condition to talk.

Adam looked at them with eyes full of pity. They were all soldiers that recklessly charged against Fort Tilt only to meet painful resistance and retribution. Although they were the most unfortunate victims of the counterattack, they were also victims of the nobles’ tyranny.

Before they could even reach the walls, they met a rain of arrows, and the abatis and empty moat blocked their advance. At this point, over a third of theforce had already been injured. But hell parted its jaws to spew its fury over them when they reached the walls. Waterfalls of boiling water and sizzling oil ran down the walls, and stones as large as an infant’s head were pelted down on them.

Many soldiers were supplied with wooden shields alongside their weapons. Unlike armor and helmets that needed to be adjusted to fit one’s size, anyone could hold a shield regardless of their expertise. This made it a convenient and highly applicable piece of equipment.

Despite the shields being sturdy and reinforced with metal, giving them some defensive properties, they were still made of wood. Holding them overhead could only protect one for so long. After all, the Mikoshiba barony’s soldiers were all capable of martial thaumaturgy. Even if all they did was throw stones, blocking just a few of them was impressive.

Under such conditions, conquering this firm fortress would be impossible, and it gave the subjugation army no choice but to retreat. This nightmarish outcome felt like nothing short of a wasted effort for the soldiers on the frontline. The soldiers who died because of these reckless orders were truly unfortunate victims.

Just like theres always someone who's better off than you are, youll always find people who are worse off too.

The people groaning painfully inside the tent were, without a doubt, worse off because they were simple commoners drafted into this war and carried off to this northern frontier. Yet nobles that ordered them to come here regarded them as cattle. They weren’t truly disposable since they still needed them to pay taxes, so a few dying took no skin off the nobles’ backs.

But to make things worse, these particular “cattle” were injured so severely that they couldn’t return to the battlefield after some recuperation. As cold as it might have been to admit it, even if they were given proper treatment, it was unlikely their bodies would ever fully return to what they were before this battle.

Given the situation with the northern subjugation army, no one was inclined to care for these injured men. The siege of Fort Tilt was in a stalemate, and more and more soldiers died by the day as initial optimism gave way to wary caution.

Such a state gave the nobles only one answer. From their perspective, they had to replace a broken toy with a newly bought one. The fact that the lightly injured soldiers were placed on sickbeds in another tent made their intent very clear.

They're just going to leave them here without bothering to treat them all.

In the end, it was a question of cost-effectiveness. So long as one didn't consider that they were dealing with their fellow man, it could seem like a rational choice. But this kind of coldhearted, ruthless “rational” thinking manifested hell on earth.

The injured had to lie without a single strap of clean cloth over their wounds. Their wounds went unwashed in the name of conserving drinking water and using medicine on them wasn’t even considered. On top of that, over a dozen soldiers were stuffed into this small tent where most would die from their injuries worsening. Even the few who’d survive were bound to perish from languishing in such unsanitary conditions.

Everyone in this tent headed toward a one-way path to death. The only question was whether their misery would end sooner or later, and everyone lying in this tent knew that.

A living hell.

There could be no better descriptor for it—when the reaper finally came to claim their souls, they could only anguish in agony.

Trying to defeat that fort in a frontal assault is just suicide. Are the higher-ups leading our army foolish enough not to see that? No, that can't be true. They brought

Helena Steiner to lead us..

Thankfully, the royal guards hadn’t fought on the front lines yet. Since the nobles wanted to distinguish themselves in this war, the high command authorized them to lead the charge. But as far as Adam could see, that was all just pretense.

They probably didn't stop the nobles from acting this foolishly on purpose...to weaken their power.

The answer was so simple even a child could come up with it, and the moment he reached that conclusion, Adam’s expression filled with hatred. He understood why the high command did this, but weakening the military might of the nobles meant sacrificing the lives of the conscripted commoners.

Does the high command really understand what this sight means? This question filled Adam’s heart with doubt.

If the high command truly understood what it meant and knowingly did so, then they were inhuman monsters. And if they didn’t recognize the true meaning of their actions, then they were bloody fools. Whichever it was, they were unfit to lead others.

Lupis Rhoadserians... In the end, she's nothing but a ruler who spouts lip service.

When the civil war ended, Adam truly believed she would work to improve this country. Meltina Lecter’s assurances of a queen-led regime were what he put his faith in, but here was the outcome of their actions. For all their reform claims, they refused to shed any blood for their cause.

The ones who bleed in their place are the commoners. As that thought crossed Adam’s mind, a group of men earning a large stockpot approached the tent.

The man leading the group set food in the end, then instantly grimaced in disgust, turned around, and cried out like he was vomiting.

“Ugh... This stench is unbearable! Hurry up and do your work, would you?!”

He was likely the head of rationing. Upon noticing Adam standing near the tent's entrance, his expression turned surprised.

“Oh, pardon me, sir,” he said respectfully, realizing from Adam’s equipment that he was a knight. While he was soft-spoken, his smile was meek. “Do you have business here?”

Adam just shook his head and said, “I am Adam Führer of the royal guard. Don’t mind me, and go about your work.”

The man regarded Adam with a questioning gaze briefly but then looked away.

“Very well. We’ll try to finish up quickly to not get in your way,” he said, signaling his subordinates with his eyes. They apparently chose not to get further involved with Adam.

Not that I can blame them

No one wanted to linger in this foul tent any longer than they had to.

“Whoa, the smell’s actually gotten worse today... Dammit, why did I have to pull the short straw today, of all days?!” one of the men said.

Apparently, he was assigned to this tent because he lost some kind of bet. He didn’t want to come anywhere near this tent full of injured soldiers, but luck didn't favor him.

“Shut up. You lost, and that’s that,” another man retorted. “Stop complaining and get back to work. The longer we stay here, the more likely I’ll lose my lunch.”

Still, everyone here felt the same way as him, and they all grumbled in their own small ways.

“What’s the top brass thinking?”

“Seriously, how long will they keep us running headfirst into that fort?”

For all their complaining and apparent resentment, they didn’t flee from the tent. They could be penalized for slacking off, after all.

And in this world, the lives of commoners come cheap.

They’d be lucky to get away with just whippings or labor unless whoever judged them was extremely cruel, as they could get sentenced to death. Even if they couldn’t flee their jobs so readily, they didn’t need to keep quiet and tolerate this mistreatment. Their nausea was beyond their control, and their sheer nerve wasn’t enough to fight it.

As a result, the frustration of being caught between this situation and their orders was evident on the men’s faces. They knew no amount of complaining or cursing their higher-ups would resolve this. Yet they had no choice but to finish this task quickly and leave this cursed tent.

“Let’s get this over with!” ordered one of the men, clearly fed up. “I can’t deal with these half-dead people for much longer, and we’re running out of daylight here.”

The others nodded wordlessly and recovered the containers placed near each of the injured soldiers. Despite not granting them any treatment, they kept bringing their daily food rations into the tent.

But even if the injured receive food, they cannot eat without assistance...

The stockpot was full of soup, likely prepared to give the sick and injured something easy to digest. Unless one could lift a spoon and put it in their mouths—which these soldiers weren’t in the condition to do—it was nothing but an empty gesture. No nurses were present to help feed them either.

Indeed, most of the bowls retrieved from the tent were untouched since yesterday. But they kept giving them their rations to maintain the appearance of not completely abandoning these men.

Or maybe they’re just doing it out of guilt.

Just then, one of the men collecting the bowls openly complained, “Hey, they didn’t touch their food again! Our rations are already getting smaller.

What’s the top brass thinking, wasting perfectly good food on people who won’t eat it?”

He was eyeing the bowl in his hand like a starving animal, suggesting they eat the leftover food. The leader of the group, however, scolded him for it.

“Don’t say that. These guys aren’t in this state because they want to. No matter how hungry you are, you shouldn’t eat leftovers. In the best case, it’ll spoil your stomach; at worst, it’ll kill you.”

The man looked wistfully at the food bowl in his hand and nodded with a reluctant expression. Eating food that had been left out in this unsanitary tent for half a day could get him sick.

Yes, that’s right... The food supply is getting affected too. Just like he said it would.

Adam continued listening to the men’s exchange while exiting the tent. Having gained the information he needed, he left because he didn’t want to stay in this disgusting tent a second longer.

That night, Adam slipped away from the royal guard’s camp, walking to the encampment of a noble who was part of the northern subjugation army.

After showing a tally he’d been given to help identify him, a sentry led the way.

So many tents...

This noble led a substantial force in the northern subjugation army, which meant his camp wasn’t much different in scale than Queen Lupis’s own. Most of the tents had banners adorned with the emblem of a wolf decorated by roses.

The symbol of a rose held a special meaning in the Rhoadserian kingdom, as it represented the Rhoadserian royal house. Seeing that the owner of these tents could use roses in their banner design implied they were one of the few most distinguished houses in the country.

Perhaps due to this, the soldiers guarding this encampment had gear that was not too inferior to the weapons and armor used by the royal guard and the monarch’s guard.

It wasn’t just the gear that was better as the soldiers wearing it, too, were well-trained. Putting aside whether they mastered martial thaumaturgv and were worthy of being called knights, they professionally presented themselves. At the very least, they were nothing like the amateurish and poorly equipped conscripts making up most of the northern subjugation army.

Even after being demoted the viscount and stripped of his original domain in Heraklion, he still boasts this much influence and power. Most impressive.

As a member of the royal guard—and, by extension, the royal family—Adam should have seen a noble with this much political power as an enemy and a threat. Nobles were a beneficial tool for a monarch even if the possibility of them usurping the throne made them a latent threat. Yet Adam felt no enmity or danger; instead, he felt confident that he had made the right choice.

“Over here,” the sentry told Adam.

“Hm, thank you,” Adam responded.

They stopped in front of one tent in the center of the camp that was larger and fancier than the rest. The sentry exchanged a few words with the guards standing at the entrance, to which one of them nodded and entered the tent.

I did say it was an urgent report, so I’m sure they'll let me see him Who’s to say what'll happen? At worst, they might make me wait for a while.

Such concerns crossed Adam’s mind since he had to sneak out of his camp in the dead of night to avoid his fellow knights when coming here. Most people would usually be sleeping at this time, and Adam hadn’t sent a message in advance that he’d be arriving to make a report. So, he basically showed up without an appointment.

A foolish noble who would be overly occupied with appearances could become disgruntled and have him return to camp despite the time and effort it took him to come here. However, Adam’s concerns were unfounded because it took the guard half a minute to exit the tent and whisper something into the sentry’s ear.

“Please, come in. The lord awaits.”

With this, the guards standing at the entrance stepped aside to clear the way, to which Adam nodded pleasantly and entered the tent. His eyes then fixed on a figure seated by a desk engaged in writing something, working even this late at night. Adam swiftly got on one knee and bowed his head to the master of this tent.

“My apologies for coming at this late hour of the night, my lord,” said Adam as a vassal would to his master or king.

Normally, a royal guard like Adam would never kneel or bow his head to anyone but the queen. But he felt no qualms about doing this, seeing that he had reduced Queen Lupis to his ruler in name only. He did maintain the required courtesy around her during ceremonies in the palace and didn’t make his discontent with her outwardly visible.

But that was only on the surface. Deep down, Adam no longer saw Lupis as his sovereign. What’s more, the master of this tent once boasted as much strength and authority as Queen Lupis and, unlike her, gave Adam many blessings and benefits.

Its clear who is more worthy of my respect.

The master of this tent and the man Adam sought an audience with was Viscount Furio Gelhart—formerly Duke. As leader of the nobles’ faction, he governed their society in Rhoadseria for years. He was a monster of a man who once had enough power that even the king couldn’t oppose him. During the last civil war, he backed Princess Radine’s claim to the throne, hoping to steal the title of queen from her.

This man is that powerful.

Viscount Gelhart indeed lost the civil war, and his authority had been on the decline. By and large, he was the ringleader of a rebellion. He prevented being sentenced to death by pinning most of the blame on General Albrecht and returning Mikhail Vanash from captivity. That said, he lost the grand majority of the domain he spent years building up and had to pay a great sum in reparations.

Being demoted from duke to viscount was an especially fatal blow. It resulted in many nobles who served him during his leadership distancing themselves from him.

But even after all that, hes still one of the strongest and most influential people in the kingdom

Based on the rumors Adam had heard, Furio Gelhart was working diligently day and night—all to remove the shameful adjective “former” from his title.

His active cooperation in the northern subjugation was an attempt to show Queen Lupis his usefulness.

Its possible hes already reclaimed most of his influence. Adam thought back to the camp he saw outside this tent, silently waiting for the viscount to respond.

He prayed that this powerful man wouldn’t find fault with him for this sudden, unannounced visit. At that moment, Viscount Gelhart put his pen down and looked up at him.

“Raise your head. We can’t very well speak like this, can we?” Gelhart said with a smile as he rose from his seat.

He motioned Adam to sit on a sofa reserved for visitors, and both sat across each other. The viscount regarded the knight with the same courtesy as one would a guest.

“Greatly appreciated, my lord,” Adam thanked him, slighdy taken aback by the unexpected generosity the man showed him.

Given the class difference between the two men, talking face-to-face while seated on a sofa might have been disrespectful. Viscount Gelhart, though, shook his head as he was ready to do anything to restore his former rights. Listening to the low-ranking knight of the Royal Guard, Adam, was part of that.

So, Gelhart regarded him with a welcoming smile.

“Your name was Adam Führer, yes? No need to stand on ceremony. We might be far from the front lines, but this is still a battlefield. I assume you’ve come to report on the task I’ve given you. Then there’s no need to feel reserved.”

Viscount Gelhart took out a leather sack and placed it in front of Adam.

“Let’s hear your report, then.”

Adam nodded briefly and parted his lips.