All the Dust that Falls: A Roomba Isekai Adventure

Chapter 171: Bureaucratic Oath

Chapter 171: Bureaucratic Oath

Bee had seen better days. She had seen worse ones, too, certainly, but not too many. With each step, she could feel her feet squish into her sodden shoes. Every laborious foot of progress seemed to push the mud higher and higher up her boots. She could only imagine how everyone else, without all her advantages, was doing.

It was only a matter of time before it crept past their tops, and she would really start to be uncomfortable. Wiping a soaking strand of hair off of her face, she regretted not taking up the offer for a horse more and more. Keeping her eyes on her feet, she knew that everyone else was miserable as well, but they still had a long way to go and couldn't stop now.

The muddy road and overall horrendous conditions had drastically slowed them down. At first, people had tried to shelter in the wagons, but that weighed them down even more. After the second time they had all gotten stuck in the mud, stopping the entire column from pulling the wagons free, she made the massively unpopular decision to bar all but the most infirm from riding in the wagons.

She could practically feel the dirty looks directed at her, and the ever-present wail of uncomfortable small children filled the air. The soldiers abandoned her almost immediately, unfamiliar with navigating the battleground of public opinion.

Luckily, most people had kept their displeasure to looks and mutters. It mainly was because of Void; even when people grumbled, they still whispered nearly silent prayers. The other reason was Gertrude.

The old crone walked as she always did at the back of the column. But with dark looks and sharper words, she kept everyone moving at her pace or faster. Bee was also doing her best to keep everyone's spirits up, and to some extent, it was working.

The children big enough to walk were mostly having a good time, diving into puddles and slinging mud at each other. To them, she told the stories of Void. Their favorite was the god's heroic battle against the vile lieutenant, but they also liked to hear about how it swept the castle clean of lesser demons.

She couldn't tell that story in its entirety as she had mostly only been there to help clean up the grand hall, but that was part of why they liked it. They would pass the time by coming up with more and more ridiculous ways in which the god demolished and consumed the demons. Her favorite so far was that the god had chased the other demons down the halls until they were all clustered together in a massive group. Then, Void cornered them and launched a laser-superheated tidal wave, swallowing up the demons and instantly vaporizing them. Some of the kids even insisted that Void rode on the wave-like some sort of surfer.

As strange as that story was, it was one of the more logical fantasies that they had come up with. The Nighty Knights at home certainly had some wild imaginations, but she still had yet to get used to the wandering tales of small children.

Every once in a while, she considered that the descriptions in her stories might be a little too dark for the children. But then she remembered how bland and boring tales she remembered growing up were and decided they could handle it.

By the time the caravan finally stopped for the night, the rain still hadn't ceased. It was slightly better as the fat droplets had turned to a gentle mist. While the mud wasn't getting any worse, the constant drizzle prevented anything from drying out.

Bee was not looking forward to the night and was glad she didn't need as much sleep as she used to, as she doubted that she would be able to get a full amount in this climate. Still, after they set up camp, the usual amount of people came to hear her talk about the glories of Void.

It was surprising as much as she found it relieving. She had spent most of the day thinking about how everyone was mad at her for making them walk in the rain, but perhaps it wasn't as bad as she thought.

After her sermon, Bee found Gertrude waiting to talk to her. She motioned for the old crone to follow as she walked. The soldiers had set up a slightly dry area for her to do alchemy in. The woman fell into step alongside her. Neither said anything for a bit, and Bee began to think about the potions they would need.

Quantity was the name of the game. The amount of low-grade potions they were going through was ridiculous. When infants got sick, it didn't take a lot to cure them, but on the other hand, it didn't take a lot to kill them either. So when subjected to such an unpleasant environment, even the smallest thing was worrying. A good part of her day was spent administering small cures for coughs and general minor issues.

"I have a concern, young lady." Gertrude said. Bee winced, expecting a sharp rebuke for something she had done wrong recently. "It's about the children. I think we need to slow down on the healing of them."

Bee reeled, taken aback. "You want me to leave them sick? Why?"

"In short, yes." She responded but quickly added. "For good reasons though, just hear me out child."

—-

For the first time, I reached out and messed with Arthur's papers. I flipped back a few reports, confirming my suspicions. Arthur just leaned back and let me do my thing. Apparently, he wasn't concerned about me knowing anything about these numbers.

I pulled up a few more documents to cross-reference before I laid four of them out in front of him and tapped on each line that I thought was important. Arthur leaned forward and frowned, tracing the lines with his fingers and muttering to himself.

I am kind of disappointed. This whole time I had been so impressed with their solid and well-ordered organization. It had honestly given me high hopes for their record-keeping. Instead, I was disappointed.

With a big frown, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and scribbled a few numbers on it with a bird feather. "This doesn't line up. It's very cleverly hidden too."

He looked back a few different sheets, then got up and grabbed a book from the back to reference it. "Whoever did this was smart. They didn't just underreport the numbers. They are using a different definition and units for measurement, so the numbers seem to line up. Only if you check the top do you realize the units are different. Then you have to calculate and convert everything for the discrepancy to make sense."

What did he mean by "someone did this"? It seemed like a mistake from my perspective. But if Arthur was saying that this was done intentionally…

"There is no way this was an accident, it's too careful." Arthur put the feather down and closed the reference book. Leaning back in his chair, he asked the air. "Then who would have done it?"

I had no idea what they did exactly, let alone had the ability to figure out their motivations. But… well, that wasn't really true anymore. I needed to stop thinking like I didn't understand humans anymore. There were definitely things that I didn't get, but I could figure some things out. I could at least try.

Besides, it seemed like humans didn't fully understand all other humans, either. Arthur seemed confused, though he did say some things that maybe I could use to piece together the situation. So then, the numbers that I thought didn't line up… What would that mean?

One number was the amount of utility oil ordered. That actually lined up with the amount received, but when it was divided between the people who actually needed it, plus the leftovers in stock, it wasn't right. So how would that be hard to hide?

Looking at it again, I tried skimming it like humans did, ignoring the details and making lots of assumptions based on previous knowledge. Then I saw it. If you ignored the units, when you added all the numbers together amongst the divided-up amounts and the stock, it was the right number. So it was the units that were wrong. Checking the units, I did see they were from totally different systems of measurement. So the difference wasn't that much, maybe 20 percent.

Okay, so that was simple then. We should just be looking for a few hundred gallons of oil lying somewhere around camp. It couldn't be that hard to find. So why did Arthur look so frustrated?

Maybe this was something I could help with? Throwing my sensors wide, I started to search for a large quantity of liquid stored away in someone's tent. He had said that someone had done this intentionally, but I didn't really see why someone would want so much oil. What would they have to gain?

Still, he had sounded very confident, so it was bound to be around here somewhere!

—-

Roscoe was having a much easier time in this province. Recruits were much more plentiful and densely packed. And while they didn't seem eager to join, they weren't nearly as aggressive in resisting conversion.

Best of all, the human resistance wasn't nearly as coordinated as it had been. There was clearly no mastermind directing the defense. Each city fought on its own. Sure, taking each one was expensive and cost him a lot of troops, but each time he netted more. And never did it take so long that he spent weeks in one place.

In fact, he didn't even have to do it all himself; with his troop surplus, he just spent a day setting up the attack and crushing any resistance, then leaving a horde to clean up the weakened foe.

Even better was that his magic was getting better. He hadn't taken the time to summon a new wraith yet, but he wasn't sure if he even wanted to after how useless the last one proved. Instead, he had learned to empower and direct shades directly.

They were incredibly effective for breaking unexpecting foes and were now the most powerful troops in all his arsenals, except for the elite skeletons. The inherent magic imparted to them from the Void god made them more like him, intelligent and full of potential. They were his comrades in arms, confidants, and comrades rather than fodder.

He could only pray for the safety and salvation of the ones left behind. When his connection to the wraith had snapped, he lost all contact with them. They would either find their way back or they would not. This caused concern among the few sentient members of their little group, but they could do little but press on. They would have to come back to any unfinished work later.