Chapter 10

It was roughly two hours past dawn by the time they entered the northern gate of Corelyn Harbour. Ludmila informed Clara about their additional passengers as she watched the scenery of the town go by.

『Eh? Themis and Alessia are coming?』

『Does that cause any complications?』

『Not on my end. I was more wondering about yours.』

Clara’s concerns gave rise to a half dozen of her own. Ludmila entertained Themis and Alessia weekly in her city manor when she was there, so she had a more relaxed mindset when it came to them. In reality, however, they were a Vicar and her adjutant, who was a member of the Temple Guard.

She bit her lip as she considered what was technically happening and its implications. In terms of rank, a Vicar was the lieutenant of a Bishop. Bishops administered a diocese, which could probably be considered close to a County in more familiar terms. So if a Bishop was a Count, a Vicar was a Viscount – even the linguistic roots of the titles held similar meaning. It wasn’t just that, however.

In order of precedence, a Bishop was below an Archbishop, who in turn was below the six Cardinals of the Slane Theocracy. Each Cardinal was the head of one of the six sects of the Faith of the Six, and from their number came the Pontifex Maximus of the Temples of the Six. One could say that Vicar was only a few steps away from being the head of the religion. The distance between steps was very large from an organisational standpoint, but the behaviour of many transformed when it came to ‘celebrities’.

To complicate matters even further, E-Rantel was the seat of power for the greatest of their gods, who had descended to live amongst them once again. The faithful in E-Rantel no longer saw the Divine Capital of the Slane Theocracy as the seat of their faith. In other words, E-Rantel was the new Holy See, Bishop Austine was more important than an Archbishop and Vicar Themis was similarly promoted in their estimation.

“Vicar Themis?”

“Hm?”

“How do the faithful usually interact with you in E-Rantel?”

“What do you mean?” Themis tilted her head curiously, “You see me in the city all the time.”

“How should I put it…do their observances differ in any way from how things were before the annexation?”

Themis leaned on her armrest, propping her cheek in her hand.

“They are more fervent these days, but that much is understandable. What are you afraid of?”

“Well, I said that they would be ecstatic to see you, but, considering the circumstances, they might go berserk.”

“…have you been doing something that I am not aware of?”

“Er, no – everything is as I reported.”

“Then you are worrying too much,” Themis smiled. “I have no idea why people would go ‘berserk’ if I showed up.”

“If this was the Theocracy,” Alessia said, “the domina would have the right of it.”

They looked over at the young Paladin.

“The degree of reverence goes up with rank,” she explained. “Pilgrims to holy sites will display great reverence for local Archbishops and they will more readily listen to Paladins than local law enforcement. Those who visit the Divine Capital will become excited and faint if they see a Cardinal or Miko Princess. If they caught a glimpse of the Pontifex Maximus, I would not be surprised if they spontaneously blossomed into flowers.”

“The more I hear about the Theocracy,” Themis muttered, “the unhealthier it seems. Hmm…does that mean you act that way as well?”

“No,” Alessia snorted. “Members of the temple organisation act as any proper organisation probably would. It would be troublesome if I collapsed from a nosebleed every time I interacted with any of those old folks.”

Were her people closer to their counterparts in the Theocracy? No, since they were migrants from E-Rantel, they wouldn’t be so ridiculous.

『I think everything should be alright. Themis will be holding some services while we’re there, so the people should be satisfied with that.』

『Oh, Liane will simply love that.』

Ludmila smiled to herself. She could imagine her friend’s complaints when she found out how many religious functions they would be attending.

The residential ‘ring’ of the town rose roughly four metres above the road, giving travellers the impression that they were going through a small canyon leading to the common district on the other side. The scenery opened up roughly five hundred metres past the gate, giving them a view of the bustling town that was now four metres below.

As with many urban centres, the positioning of Corelyn County’s industries was dependent on the prevailing winds. No one wanted a Blacksmith, Alchemist or Tanner covering them with soot and foul odours, and Clara had arranged her town accordingly. The residential areas were not downwind of anything. The combination of its generous residential allocations, abundance of green spaces and proximity to economic centres made Corelyn Harbour perhaps the most attractive place for Humans to dwell in the duchy.

Industries with undesirable emissions were placed on the south side of the common area, making the harbour the only side of the town that had to deal with the problem. Since it was mostly warehouses and cargo handling areas and the drydocks were roofed over, it felt like an optimal urban arrangement. Castle Corelyn was south of the harbour, but the fumes from the industries weren’t so extreme that they could be detected from so far away by regular Humans.

“Hmm…so we will finally get to see what these great plans are all about,” Alessia said as she looked out her window. “Captain Cavallaro always mentions that something is going on here when he drops off his reports.”

“What did he say?”

“Last week he said that some barges erm…appeared. But any place with a good river has barges, so I do not know what all the fuss is about.”

“I suppose that means the Theocracy is no stranger to transporting things by ship.”

“Of course!” Alessia replied, “Moving things by water is far better than by land – this much is common knowledge. Most of our routes from city to city follow the waterways.”

The carriage turned east off of the highway, following the road past the parking area for visiting caravans. It continued further east along the waterfront around to the southern side of the harbour. Alessia stared as they arrived at their destination.

“This barge is very large,” Alessia said. “How does it even move? I do not see any sails or places for oars.”

“Probably the same as usual?” Themis ventured, “Undead have been providing menial labour for nearly everything where they are available so I doubt it would be any different with this. Countess Wagner probably came up with some contraption that makes it fly.”

“I have not seen any of her contraptions fly, but, hmm…a team of Soul Eaters running along the river bottom pulling the ship around? We have such things, except the draft animals are assisting from the shore.”

“We are keeping the workings a secret for now,” Ludmila said, “so you will be stuck with your guesses for a while. Come – that delay out of E-Rantel has kept the others waiting.”

Upon disembarking, Ludmila found Clara waiting for her outside. The Countess of Corelyn was adorned in one of which Ludmila thought was too many dresses she had purchased during their stay in Arwintar. That she had bought five times as many books was even more unsettling: even with a Ring of Sustenance, Ludmila wondered when Clara would find the time to read them.

The Radiant Jewel of the Riverlands beamed brightly at their approach.

“Baroness Zahradnik,” she said, “Vicar Aspasia; Sister Alessia – welcome and thank you for coming.”

“Countess Corelyn,” Vicar Aspasia replied with a ritual gesture. “Blessings of the Six be upon you. Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”

“We have plenty of room, so it was not an issue whatsoever. I will, however, ask that you mind the testing crew – we are still examining the performance of these vessels along their routes. All has been prepared, so we will be departing once you get your things on the ship.”

The main deck of the vessel stood over two metres above the waterline, so a flight of stairs had been fashioned to help people board. Alessia frowned as she ran her fingers along the hull before tapping it lightly.

“This is steel? The entire thing?”

“The hull and most of the major components are fashioned from steel, yes,” Clara replied.

“That sounds very expensive,” Alessia said as they stepped onto the deck. “The Theocracy has naval forces but, hmm…how much does this ship cost to operate and maintain?”

“Construction costs were as much as you might expect for a vessel made out of steel,” Clara said. “This vessel is operated by the Undead, so operating costs are the cost of their lease. As for maintenance, every ship in the fleet uses Runecraft™ and is immune to the wear and rust that one might see accumulated on a barge made out of steel.”

“I have heard of this Runecraft™,” Alessia said, “but it was only for some equipment made available to the Adventurer Guild.”

A few of the highest-end items in the Adventurer Guild’s ‘point store’ were runecrafted items. Before she was bestowed with her current equipment, Ludmila had her eye on several pieces. Unfortunately, her point income was so dismal that she could never hope to purchase what she wanted before a full-time Adventurer snapped it up.

Even with her new equipment, there were a few things that she thought might be useful. She still earned a modest point income as a trainer and proctor, but the changes to the Adventurer Guild budget probably meant that it would be that much harder to buy anything. Then again, she did have forever to save up.

“Most of the practical applications derived from Runecraft™ are in the civilian sector so far,” Liane said as she and Florine walked over to join them. “It’s mostly in use for domestic vehicles, though – kind of a waste elsewhere.”

“Were you not trying to sell runecrafted goods to the Empire?” Ludmila frowned.

“Yeah, about that…well, I guess you were off doing your army thing while we were running around trying to market the stuff. People feel that there’s too much risk.”

“Should they not pay for themselves over time?” Ludmila asked, “Or at least that is what you were saying back then.”

It made sense to her, at least. Once runecrafted assets paid themselves off, the next to negligible maintenance costs would make for greater profit margins. Soul Eaters could not only handle far more freight than draft animals could, but also worked tirelessly day and night. The combination made for a revolution in logistics.

“Well, after going around for a bit,” Liane said, “I think we were too eager. Prices that we thought would be reasonable were generally off-putting to our potential clients. They have risks to consider that we don’t.”

“Such as…”

“Competition, for one,” Liane told her. “The vehicle frames with runecrafted components make them effectively immune to regular wear and tear, but that doesn’t mean they’re immune to sabotage. All competitors need to do is break their stuff. Additionally, the models that don’t use Soul Eaters can be stolen.”

Criminal activity was problematic precisely because criminals were very good at what they did. While this sounded like a banal line of thought, Ludmila’s awareness of Class Levels gave it new meaning: ‘normal’ people were practically helpless against experienced criminals. Skills, Abilities and everything else that came with Class Levels required experts with the capabilities to counter them.

If someone with ‘stealth’ classes did not want to be caught, they couldn’t be without suitable countermeasures. Even without concealment, there were a myriad of other measures criminals could resort to that required specialised defences.

“They could use a portion of their new profit margins to hire security experts,” Ludmila suggested. “The Sorcerous Kingdom’s new Merchant Guard, for instance. Or all the Adventurers that our Death-series servitors are going to put out of work.”

“They could,” Liane said, “but they won’t. The more those profits shrink, the less incentive there is to adopt new stuff. Their existing assets represent the investment that they’ve put into not only those assets, but also the development, training and systems that go with everything. Even Merchants will baulk at radical change unless someone else proves that it will work first. Above any of that, however, we made a strategic blunder that we would have immediately recognised if we all weren’t so excited about how awesome our stuff was.”

“What blunder might that be?” Ludmila asked.

“We’re hurting ourselves by selling it,” Liane answered. “I’m not only talking about having a monopoly on our vehicles and machines, but all of the industries that support the transportation industry. Think of it this way: a Blacksmith making an unbreakable tool can only sell it once. Once everyone has all the unbreakable tools that they need, they won’t buy any more. Eventually, everyone has everything they need that a Blacksmith can make and the Blacksmiths go bankrupt.”

“Will that not just drive them to create better tools?”

“There’s a limit to that. Research and development costs money, too. Can’t do that when you can’t even eat and the closer you get to ‘perfect’ the longer it takes to figure out and the more expensive it becomes.”

“But you have already invested so much into your industries,” Ludmila said. “What will you do instead?”

“We’ll aim for steady long-term profits,” Liane shrugged. “Stuff from my workshops will easily sell as mundane goods. When they break is actually the best part. Since every vehicle frame and piece of machinery is made to our specifications, fixing a wagon doesn’t require an artisan to custom craft a replacement for whatever broke. We can open shops in every town and city with our parts in stock. It’s cheap and convenient – people will love it.”

After being exposed to the new realities that came with runecrafted machinery, Liane’s new plan almost seemed exploitative. Yet, it was normal for things to wear out and break so most wouldn’t think anything of it. They would purchase high-quality goods that were easily serviced. The more people used House Wagner’s machinery, the greater the demand for replacement parts and the greater the Sorcerous Kingdom’s trade surplus would be.

“Will people not try to make their own replacement parts?” Ludmila asked.

“They can try,” Liane answered. “Good luck being as quick and cost-effective, though. Even if they do manage it, it’ll just drive us to be better and cheaper. Merchants aren’t strangers to competition.”

The last of Ludmila’s cargo was loaded and the barge drifted from its berth. With the vessel being so massive, it was a different feeling from riding on her knarr. Alessia looked over the edge as they made their way.

“Don’t fall off,” Liane said. “You’ll go squish if you’re unlucky. We did some tests with Undead up to Blood Meat Hulks and they just got smashed when caught between the barge and something else.”

“What if I use Invulnerable Fortress?” Alessia asked, “This is a common tactic by aquatic opponents against ships.”

“That’s, uh…we didn’t try that. Not here at least. Corelyn, did they try it elsewhere?”

“No,” Clara replied.

Liane looked at Ludmila.

“What?” Ludmila said.

“We should see what happens,” Liane said.

“What if I go ‘squish’?”

“We’ll slow down the boat,” Liane replied. “One sec…”

Liane went over to explain what they were doing to the Elder Lich captain. The barge slowed to about walking speed and they went over to the front of the ship.

“You won’t squish now,” Liane said. “Probably.”

Ludmila frowned at Liane before activating her hairpin and flying out in front of the barge. The group on the ship looked down as the vessel slowly approached her. Ludmila held out her right palm.

“「Invulnerable Fortress」.”

“Woah!”

Surprised voices rolled out over the deck as the barge jerked to a halt. Liane, who was standing right at the edge, continued going forward when the ship stopped. Ludmila threw out her arms, drifting back through the air to catch her. The younger noblewoman squirmed a bit in her embrace.

“I wasn’t the one that was supposed to go squish,” Liane muttered.

“So I was supposed to go squish.”

“Erm, no…uh,” Liane lowered her voice, “Clara isn’t going to get jealous, is she?”

“She might,” Ludmila replied. “Shall we find out?”

“No thanks,” Liane squirmed a bit more. “I’m scared to think what might happen to me.”

Ludmila didn’t think that anything would happen. At the least, Clara never said anything and Ludmila never noticed what might be a jealous reaction when she interacted with other women – not even when Ludmila shared what happened between her and Lady Shalltear.

She flew back up and released Liane onto the deck. Clara and Florine had their attention turned to the ship and its crew, while Themis and Alessia were checking them for injuries. The Elder Lich captain had left the bridge, pen scrawling ceaselessly over its clipboard as it made observations and received reports from the testing crew. Several were rolling the cargo shutters back, revealing the containers stored within.

Liane peered nervously into the ship’s hold.

“Since the hull is magical, any damage we take should fix itself…right?”

“Until its durability is so low that it breaks apart,” Ludmila nodded. “That being said, I’m not sure how that works with the vessel being made out of so many individual magical components.”

“Grr…this really sucks,” Liane bit her lower lip. “Alessia, you said that aquatic Demihumans do this?”

The Paladin rose from where she was tending to an injured crew member nearby.

“They do,” she said, “piracy is a major problem for those who wish to take part in the sea trade. Sometimes, aquatic Demihumans will go up estuaries to attack shipping as well. A ship will be going much faster than we had been just now and the collision can result in major injuries and possibly sink the ship. The Demihumans then enjoy a great advantage as a ship’s crew members are cast overboard and dealt with before the pirates board their target.”

“Mmmkay, how do we make them not attack us?”

“You are asking the wrong person,” Alessia let out a short laugh. “The Theocracy does not negotiate with Demihumans.”

Alessia’s levity gave Ludmila pause. While they shared the same faith and many of the same cultural elements, the people of the Theocracy still seemed far removed from the faithful in the Sorcerous Kingdom. Problems with the Paladins that had come from their southern neighbour were few and far between, but, at the same time, many of their cultural attitudes were deeply ingrained and had not changed much since their arrival.

“We’ll just have to see what we can do when we get there,” Florine said. “I’ve not interacted with any aquatic Demihumans before, but the Demihumans that I’ve worked with so far can all be negotiated with. Maybe the Draconic Kingdom has amicable relations with them like the Holy Kingdom of Roble does with theirs.”

Information on the nation on the other side of the Katze Plains was surprisingly scarce. Their main sources of information were the Paladins from the Theocracy who had participated in the military relief efforts against the Beastman Kingdom nearby. They had a few things to share about the cities and the land, but it wasn’t at a level of detail that satisfied Ludmila’s friends.

By and large, it felt that individuals from the Theocracy had an aloof sense of ‘distance’ that kept them from developing an interest or even an eye for the workings of other countries. Most of what they knew revolved around dealing with hostile incursions. And these were the ones who had been hand-picked for being ‘open-minded’ and ‘temperate’.

A half-hour later, the Elder Lich captain came over to report the crew’s findings.

“The vessel has sustained minor damage,” it said. “Initial assessments estimate that a dozen such incidents would warrant time in drydock to affect repairs.”

“Let us be on our way, then,” Clara nodded. “We will need to prepare for more strenuous testing at a later date. If a collision at that speed does that much, I am afraid of what will happen at cruising speeds.”

“I thought that there were tests in the north for collisions with rocks and such,” Ludmila said.

“There were,” Clara replied. “The barges just crushed the rocks and kept going. If someone picked up this barge and threw it at E-Rantel, it would go straight through the wall without sustaining too much damage. We never considered that someone might stand in front of one to try and stop it with Martial Arts.”

“The same goes for anything, no?” Alessia tilted her head, “Well, I suppose civilians do not think of such things. A horse; a wagon; a chariot; a charging Demihuman – a sturdy warrior will put a stop to them all.”

Thinking back on her time with the Imperial Army, the cavalry-focused Legions were very lucky that the Theocracy exterminated any nearby tribal populations that managed to develop Martial Arts or combat-related Skills. Their tendency to open with charges against an enemy force would have resulted in disaster if they had tried fighting the Goblin Army that had invaded the Upper Reaches in the summer.

Liane led their group around the ship, though there wasn’t much to see. A barge was essentially a rectangular boat designed to ferry freight and the ‘propulsion system’ of the ship was still confidential. They eventually settled to just watch the scenery go by as they departed the harbour.

“Mmh…this barge is very fast?” Alessia furrowed her brow as she eyed the distant shore, “How long is it to Warden’s Vale?”

“We haven’t made the trip yet,” Liane replied, “but it should be around six or seven hours.”

“Probably close to seven,” Ludmila said, “there are twists and turns we will have to be careful with.”

“Seven hours…” Alessia rubbed her petite nose, “and you mean to reach the sea…would that not mean you can reach the Draconic Kingdom in less than two days?”

“Something like that,” Liane said. “That’s just the first step, though. There’s a whole world out there to trade with.”

Though she said that, they had no real idea of what was out there. Smith Kovalev was the only person that Ludmila personally knew who had been beyond what might be considered the Theocracy’s ‘domain’. House Corelyn’s Merchants primarily operated in the Theocracy. Liane and Florine did business overland to the east in the Empire, Karnassus and the Great Steppe.

“How much do you know about the area around the Draconic Kingdom, Sister Alessia?” Ludmila asked.

“About as much as anyone stationed in Altamura is taught,” Alessia replied. “It is a medium-sized country beside a very big country. That very big country is full of things that eat the people of the medium-sized country so life can be as expected of such a situation in the Draconic Kingdom.”

The Beastman Kingdom bordering the Draconic Kingdom was even more of a mystery. For some reason, no one could even tell them its official name.

“Altamura guards against potential incursions from the Beastman Kingdom,” Ludmila said. “Surely you must know something about it…”

“We know what races might come by and how to kill them,” Alessia said. “There are many different types, but they are mostly the carnivorous sort. Lions, tigers, bears – things with sharp teeth and claws.”

“You said they are mostly the carnivorous sort,” Florine noted. “What about the non-carnivorous sort? How do so many different races that could be eating each other coexist?”

“This is not something I have any knowledge of,” Alessia replied. “All I know is that Humans are treated as food. There is little we can do but fight or be eaten.”

Florine looked away with a dissatisfied expression. She was adamant that beneficial, non-violent relations could be established with any race possessed of reasonable intelligence. However, she needed information to work with and act upon to work towards her goals.

A mysterious void existed in their knowledge when it came to the lands in the southeast and further into the continent. The lands of Karnassus and the Great Steppe were blocked off in the south by a massive mountain range made effectively impassable by highly hostile inhabitants. This range went all the way past the Great Steppe and into the lands beyond – even Liane did not know where it ended.

Merchant maps were next to useless when it came to figuring out the lands that they portrayed, as they purposely betrayed nothing beyond trade routes. Possession of more detailed maps would have one accused of espionage and resulted in one being enslaved, executed or eaten. This was true even when it came to territory that was part of one’s own nation: in Re-Estize, the land of a Noble was their own to know.

As a result, their information was cursory at best. Ludmila often attributed her ignorance of the world to a martial Noble’s limited education, but in this case, it appeared that even those who she expected would know did not. At one point she would have to fly around with Ilyshn’ish and make some maps of the nearby countries, assuming she obtained permission to do so from the Royal Court.

“I wish we got that passenger expansion finished before we left,” Liane muttered. “Now that we’re actually going somewhere, this ship seems pretty bare.”

“Barges aren’t supposed to be fancy,” Florine said beside her. “It’s fine for what it will be used for most of the time.”

“What ‘passenger expansion’ is this?” Ludmila asked.

“Like a thingy on top of the bridge thingy,” Liane made a loose gesture towards the stern. “We were so worried about whether these barges could carry what we wanted them to that they were stripped down of everything non-essential to reduce mass. Turns out we can probably load three times the intended cargo without a problem on the river.”

Ludmila looked above the bridge, trying to imagine what the ‘thingy’ was.

“How big is this ‘thingy’?”

“We’re basically stacking another bridge structure on top of the bridge,” Liane told her. “The bridge is about six metres wide and eight metres long so we can divide it in half and put a common room in the back. Up top can be divided into four cabins with triple bunk beds. We can fix up a bunch of stuff – add railings around the ship, put in windows, add magic items for convenience…”

If they made things compact, each cabin would be able to provide sleeping space for up to twelve people. It was probably more reasonable to have double bunks and four people to a cabin, however.

“Liane wants to move caravans around in addition to cargo,” Florine said. “Once the cargo is loaded, the hold can be shuttered with a sturdier cover and loaded wagons placed on top. Merchants can pay for a quick trip from one port to another.”

“The more we hammer down operational costs,” Liane said, “the sweeter things get. Any Merchant would pay for a service like this – the amount they save on their operational costs makes it worth it. I don’t think we’ll be using the full cargo capacity of these barges for a long time so we may as well do as much as we can.”

“If you three think it can work,” Ludmila replied, “I cannot really say anything. What about soldiers? We can fit hundreds of Death-series servitors in the hold.”

Liane wrinkled her nose.

“The way you try to militarise everything is…what would you even need hundreds of Death-series servitors for? On a barge, no less. There are faster ways to get them around if necessary.”

“It would look impressive, no?” Alessia said, “This barge comes to a port and then hundreds of Death Knights come flying out. Your enemies will faint on the spot.”

“These are cargo ships!” Liane cried out, “Cargo ships don’t want anything to do with enemies. Next, you’ll be adding emplacements for Elder Liches to shoot Fireballs out of – no, wait, forget I said that.”

“Purpose-built vessels are better anyway,” Clara said. “It’s fine to add passenger space to these barges because they have plenty of displacement to spare. If you want a warship, it is better for it to be an actual warship, yes?”

“Can we make one?” Ludmila asked.

“I think that is a question for the Grand Marshal, not your friends.”

Given the cost of even a single cargo barge, Ludmila couldn’t imagine how expensive a warship using the same technologies would be. She couldn’t think of any justification for building one as not only could magic transport them to a target location instantly, but Death-series servitors were not created to fight on ships. If the Royal Army desired Undead for maritime combat, His Majesty could create something more suited for the task.

An almost-lazy atmosphere settled on the ship as they continued on their way. Ludmila idly patrolled around the main deck, eventually finding Clara sitting with her legs dangling over the stern. Her friend was leaning back on her hands, eyes glittering amethyst in the midday light.

“This might be the most adventurous position I have seen you in on your own,” Ludmila said. “Is it safe to be sitting there?”

Clara’s gaze didn’t leave the scenery they were leaving behind – the wide river framed by vineyards rising over gentle slopes.

“I thought it would be like a wagon, at first,” Clara replied, “but this thing is so big and solid that it almost doesn’t feel like a vehicle. You know…I have lived on the Katze River for all of my life, but I have never sailed upon it.”

“Your lord father would not let you, as I recall,” Ludmila said. “He was afraid that his precious jewel would get carried away into the Katze Plains.”

“His ‘precious jewel’ went there anyway,” Clara smirked. “Even after seeing them train, I still squirm a bit thinking about the Paladins and their Squires fighting out there.”

Ludmila looked around before sitting down. Clara shifted closer, leaning lightly on her shoulder.

“I am guessing it did not go at all as you expected it to,” Ludmila leaned back against her.

“It was just so…normal. Everything was so mundane, like the tales and legends of adventure and war are nothing but fanciful fabrications rendered to entertain.”

“They are,” Ludmila replied, “at least in part. Nearly all of those tales are second-hand information or worse. So much is lost over time that Bards and Sages can only piece together what happened and many use known inspirations to fill in the blanks. Even if the information is first-hand, a regular bystander would not know what is happening if they were witnessing a true battle involving combatants past Mithril. Even Platinum-ranked fights involve movements that can be difficult to keep track of.”

“The Dreamer appears to convey things in a manner that professional combatants find authentic,” Clara noted.

“The Dreamer made a certain someone act everything out over and over again until she was satisfied. I doubt whoever chronicled the tale of the Thirteen Heroes had any such luxury.”

“What about the Grand Arena, then?”

“There is a high degree of showmanship in the Grand Arena,” Ludmila replied. “While it is true that injuries and fatalities are commonplace, the purpose of those bouts is still to entertain. It would not be very entertaining if a combatant simply exploded on the spot.”

“…can that happen?”

“Oh yes,” Ludmila smirked. “It happens regularly when the difference in combatants is wide enough. People become pieces of people the moment someone strong enough comes through.”

Her work with the Imperial Army was the first time she had earnestly fought against the living in such a manner. Between her new Undead nature and the capabilities of her equipment, Ludmila probably shocked herself more than she had shocked the soldiers she was working with. At the same time, she was made to realise that, even with everything she now had at her disposal, there were powerful beings aplenty that would not go down so easily or outright outclassed her.

“Well, none of that happened with the Squires,” Clara said. “Everything was strangely rational. Skeletons only had crude weapons – or none at all – and they could not get through the Squires’ shields and armour. Warhammers crushed bones as one might expect a hammer to. I came out of the experience thinking ‘well of course things would happen that way’.”

“That is the world that most people live in,” Ludmila replied. “And it will continue to be that way unless some catastrophe befalls us.”

“So the Imperial Army was like that as well?”

“For the most part, yes. At the same time, I understand why the Empire puts so much faith in its institutions. Through training, discipline and tactical excellence, regular Humans can achieve significant results. It is both inspiring and empowering – especially when many come together in common cause. At the same time, it is dangerous.”

“Dangerous…” Clara murmured, “because they are blind.”

Ludmila nodded and sighed.

“Every time a battle was won, a small part of me thought ‘I could kill everyone here and walk out of the fight without a scratch’. Another part of me wondered if that lesson would be best taught by just letting them die to one of the powerful threats that they would inevitably run into.”

“That did not happen, I hope.”

“It would not have been proper,” Ludmila said. “The Empire is our protectorate. Leaving them to die would be the same as telling the Empire that the Sorcerous Kingdom would allow them to perish. I did what I believed would initiate the appropriate adjustments to their worldview and set them on a path unclouded by recent history.”

“Well, as long as you did not think too much about it, you probably did the right thing.”

The barge slowed as it went into a slight turn. Ludmila reached out to put an arm around Clara’s shoulder, unsure how far the vessel would list. Clara took advantage of the situation to snuggle closer. Ludmila released a small breath.

“Still as spoiled as ever, I see.”

“I will have you know that I have been working very hard,” Clara pouted against her collarbone. “Enough to deserve a little bit of spoiling.”