Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

Chapter 91.1: Partial Peace

Chapter 91.1: Partial Peace

Indahl was an ancient city that had stood in the southern part of the Rhine Kingdom for hundreds of years.

Situated at the crucial crossroads of the southeastern Navalon continent, the constant flow of trade caravans brought unprecedented business opportunities to this city, which became the envy of others in the vicinity.

Every day, large quantities of goods were brought in and traded in the marketplace—goods such as textiles and spices from the north, various novel mechanical inventions, alchemical materials made from magic dust and minerals from the south, as well as bulk grains from the east. Relying solely on the 11% tax collected by the Taxation Office from merchants, the city lord of Indahl had enough funds to maintain a city defense force of 1,200 professional soldiers.

In the Rhine Kingdom, a force of 1,200 fully employed professional soldiers constituted a substantial military might. Over the past century, Indahl had never suffered the banditry commonly encountered by all border cities. The city defense force played a crucial role in this achievement.

It was precisely because of this that the Bartalis family's hold on the Indahl city lord position had always been so firm. No matter how capable or well-connected the consuls (mayor) sent by the throne were, the highest authority of Indahl was never affected.

Of course, the Bartalis family wasn't in the good graces of the throne, being a feudal lord that dared keep a large amount of merchant tax to raise troops instead of obediently handing them over to the royal treasury. The size of the Indahl's established territory and its citizens could be considered a county, but the throne had always suppressed the Bartalis family's title to the level of a viscount. Regardless of how much influence the Bartalis family could hold sway in the capital, the throne refused to promote their rank.

Such discord between the throne and local nobility was quite commonplace in this world, and Viscount Bartalis didn't seem out of line among the Rhine nobles—though it was rather embarrassing for him not being able to take a count's seat at each New Year's cocktail party held at the palace.

But at least, in Indahl's territory, this viscount was still the one and only "king."

"So, Count Odysse's nephew's servant, escorted by a group of WeIsshem militiamen, fled to the city to report a crime, claiming that Count Odysse's nephew was attacked by a group of… reanimated skeletons? In Weisshem?"

The fat, well-maintained face of the current Viscount Bartalis, Adra the Third, revealed a look of skepticism as he glared at the sheriff.

"That servant reported Count Odysse's name and showed us a gold-embossed envelope with the Odysse family seal… I think that should be the case.

"Aside from that, the militiamen of Weisshem also said the same thing. They claimed that many undead attacked Weisshem in the wee hours of this morning," said the sheriff nervously.

Country folk were afraid of the resurrected dead, but as long as one had a little understanding of dark arts, they would know that the undead were just dead creatures that didn't have a soul or intelligence.

Those attacked by the undead weren't suffering retribution because of bad karma. Instead, it was black mages that were behind it.

There was also something else strange… A high-level black mage, who could control an undead army, had mobilized a large number to attack the town in order to kidnap the nephew of a count?

This sheriff would still find it feasible if it were a mercenary group that was short of money and kidnapped this unfortunate fellow. A high-level black mage who could command a large number of the undead to concurrently assault a town… That was indeed rather unbelievable. It was even more laughable than a heavy-armored knight riding a prized steed into a goatherd's house to steal black bread.

The unfortunate fellow didn't even have a decent-sized guard and merely traveled with a few servants. He definitely wasn't a nephew who had the right to inherit. Every count family would easily have a few hundred nephews just like that.

Given the sheriff's experience, he was more inclined to believe that the count's nephew was caught up with some unseemly reason that involved Weisshem's militia. And these fellows had concocted a massive lie to save the count's nephew as soon as possible…

The corner of Adra III's mouth twitched, showing clear displeasure.

This displeasure had nothing to do with the loyal servant who had run for his master's life (a servant who lied to save his master was moral in the eyes of the nobles) but because the town of Weisshem had just made him lose face.

A day earlier, Weisshem had sold out a proprietor whose backer had lost power, tacitly acknowledging the new owner who had forcefully taken over the business that had been running for years.

Usually, this sort of thing was nothing out of the ordinary, just that people of the Radiant Sun Church had seen the entire thing when it happened, leading those arrogant Kenyans to question Adra III's ability to control the territory of Indahl. And this had made him very unhappy.

Just yesterday, the people from the Radiant Sun Church had just come to the city lord's mansion to mock the security issues of Indahl territory. If they were to hear that something happened at Weisshem again today, it would only be natural for Adra III to be livid.

"What the hell is going on?" Adra III demanded unhappily.

"I was just about to ask you if we should get the City Defense Force to dispatch some men to Weisshem to take a look?" The sheriff didn't dare admit he wasn't confident and quickly tossed the ball out of his court.

Weisshem wasn't far away from Indahl, a 60-kilometer journey on the main road. The City Defence Force could move out and arrive by late afternoon.

Adra III did not respond immediately. Instead, he stroked the neatly trimmed mustache on his upper lip with his chubby fingers. After pondering for a bit, he mused, "Speaking of which, that Radiant Sun Church's cavalry regiment came to the Southern Territory to hunt down the 'Nightmare Butcher.'" After another pause, Adra III said expressionlessly, "Send someone to inform the Radiant Sun Church that the Nightmare Butcher they're chasing is suspected to have appeared in Weisshem and even attacked the nephew of a count."

The Radiant Sun Church loved chasing black mages, so it was fine if they went. As for whether the person who attacked Weisshem and kidnapped the count's nephew was really a black mage or if it was truly the legendary Nightmare Butcher… Adra III did not care. He would use the term "suspected," and even if it turns out to be a false alarm, it wouldn't have anything to do with him.

The sheriff hesitated. He wanted to say that Weisshem was a town under Indahl's jurisdiction… but when he realized that Adra III was glaring at him, he quickly bowed and answered, "Yes, my lord."

After leaving the city lord's manor, the sheriff sent someone to make a report to the Radiant Sun Church.

—Third, you're too willful. This lament was something the sheriff didn't even dare tell his wife, and he could only hide it deep down.

Adra III, who grew up in the capital, didn't like Indahl.

He hated squatting in "the countryside" to deal with trivial matters for a long period. He always talked about the prosperity and dignity of the imperial capital and yearned to return to the true core of the Rhine Kingdom's wealth and power.

This made the sheriff, who had once served his predecessor, Adra II, feel both disappointed and frustrated. Without Indahl as his backing, if not for this prosperous territory and strong army capable of resisting border marauders, what did the prosperity, dignity, power, and honor of the imperial capital have to do with Adra III, who only had the title of viscount?

Holding the position of only a sheriff, he naturally didn't dare to advise his city lord. He had no doubt that he would be removed from his position and driven back to the countryside to retire if he dared expose the inflated vanity of Adra III.

Elsewhere, after receiving news from officers of the sheriff's office, the white-robed priest of the local Radiant Sun Church and the commander of the Inquisition's cavalry regiment exchanged a glance.

"What is this city lord planning?" the commander muttered with a frown. "There was no mention of anything about a black mage when my men returned from Weisshem yesterday."

After a momentary pause, the captain, who had seen many despicable nobles in the countryside, said, "Could it be that Weisshem refused to obey that fat pig of a city lord, so this damn fellow wants to make use of our power to settle the issue?"

The white-robed priest was also a little hesitant. He had been in Indahl for over a decade and, with his understanding of the short-sighted and foolish Adra III, the fat pig of a city lord was more than capable of doing such a thing.

A brief pause later, the white-robed priest suggested, "Send two teams to take a look. No matter what the Adra III is up to, we must continue to investigate the whereabouts of the Nightmare Butcher."

The commander contemplated, then stood up and said, "I'll take some men there myself. Weisshem is close to Sorenson. Perhaps we can really get news about the Nightmare Butcher there."

The cavalry regiment had been resting in Indahl for several days and had already lost interest in this small inland city that wasn't good for much other than business. The commander asked for his men to volunteer and quickly formed two teams to leave the city.

As always, the road at the city gate was congested—merchants coming and going to sell their wares, trading caravans arguing endlessly with the city gate officials over the taxes on goods, farmers doing odd jobs, and commoners coming to visit their relatives… Even the Inquisition's cavalry regiment, leading tall horses and decked out in standard armor of the Radiant Sun Church, had to squeeze along as well.

After finally leaving the city, the commander ordered everyone to get on their mounts and set off—

Then, the captain slipped his foot on the stirrup and almost went under his steed's belly.

The others weren't in any mood to snicker at their leader's display of a lack of composure. All of them were staring in the same direction with their mouths agape…