Chapter 67
As Erich walked through the interior of the 6th Fortress, there was only one thought on his mind: 'It's dire.' No further description seemed necessary.
'... No matter how far away this place is, it shouldn't be this poorly supplied, should it?'
While it was true that the 6th Fortress was located a great distance from the Great Wall, it wasn't as if the supply unit led by Konrad was incompetent.
Even if the supply plan hadn't gone perfectly, it made no sense for the troops to be so gaunt, as if they hadn't eaten even thin gruel.
'Bloodstained bandages poking out between bits of armor are just the icing on the cake.'
The most remarkable thing, however, was that the morale here at the 6th Fortress was abnormally high.
And yet, for morale to remain high in such harsh conditions—this was something a commander couldn't easily understand.
'It seems Fortress Commander Richter must be holding on to something that boosts their morale.'
The problem was, Erich had no idea what that could be.
At that moment, Frederick cocked his head in confusion.
"... Strange."
"What is?"
"These folks here—despite what a mess they look, their eyes are sharp."
Erich grinned. Apparently Frederick, the veteran, had noticed something too. Well, even if he was a little thickheaded, there were some things one learned by intuition.
Noticing their reactions, Gustav spoke up.
"Well, it's all thanks to Fortress Commander Richter. That's why we all follow him so steadfastly."
"I see. But, if your supplies are lacking, why not request more?"
"For god's sake, you come from the Citadel and don't know that? Konrad, that bastard, refused—saying there's no way we'd need that much! So we spend half the day cursing his name."
Erich's eyes narrowed. Konrad had refused additional supplies?
'... Konrad isn't that sort of person.'
If Konrad had known about their situation, he would never have refused supplies.
No matter how remote or treacherous the supply lines from the Great Wall, he wasn't the sort to neglect those fighting on the frontlines.
He was even less likely to make a calculation error.
That meant there was only one possibility—these people might be requesting an excessive amount compared to their actual size.
But considering their current condition, that didn't seem to be the case either....
'I'll have to look into this.'
This added yet another task to Erich's list.
At that moment, Gustav, who was leading them, stopped walking. He had led them to the deepest part of the fortress, where—unlike the other buildings—the exterior was pristine.
"We're here. This is the building the research unit uses."
"It's built far better than your own quarters."
"How should I know? It's not like they stand guard here or go out on watch. With nothing to do, maybe they just built a nice house for themselves."
Erich found this reasonable. After all, what was there for the research unit to actually do here?
Gustav led Erich up to the research annex, where research unit members stood guard. They cast suspicious glances at Gustav and said,
"Hmm... There was no word of visitors coming."
"Do I need your permission now?"
Gustav shot them a sharp look, making their shoulders shrink.
"E—even if you're acting fortress commander, the research unit is a different thing. You really can't just barge in like this...."
But Gustav responded aggressively, threatening them.
"Then bring Joseph here. Before I smash this damned building to pieces."
Watching this, Erich grew more interested.
'... There's some lingering hostility in his words. Their relationship isn't good, it seems.'
The research members were uneasy around Gustav, and Gustav clearly disliked the research members. You could tell by the way they looked and spoke to each other.
'It seems there's more complexity to their relationship than I thought.'
The researchers exchanged glances, then, cowed by Gustav's energy, agreed to fetch 'Joseph' and went inside.
When they disappeared, Erich gave Gustav a pointed look.
"I thought you were dumping responsibility on me?"
"Joseph won't dare breathe a word of protest to you anyway."
A smile flitted across Gustav's face, as if delighted that Joseph would get put in his place.
How long had they waited for the research member's return? From inside, a commotion erupted.
The person who finally appeared wore a fur coat, as if that wasn't enough, a black cloak over it as well—an emaciated-looking man, possibly around forty. A bit too old to remain as a team leader for non-combat personnel.
At the sight of Erich's rank insignia, Joseph scowled and kicked the research member.
― PAK!
"Ugh!"
"You idiot, should've said someone came from the Black Citadel in advance!"
"S-sorry!"
"My apologies. I'm Joseph, team leader of the research unit."
Erich thought the man looked like a dried twig—he wondered if it would actually hurt to be tripped by such skinny legs. Shaking hands, Erich replied,
"I'm Erich, a centurion from the Black Citadel."
"Erich, Erich? That sounds familiar... Ah! You're the 'Apostle of Incensus'."
"That damned rumor spreads like wildfire...."
As Erich muttered with a bitter expression, Joseph slyly glanced at his insignia. His sunken eyes moved like those of a frog.
"By the way, I didn't know the Black Citadel also had a centurion. Reporting directly to the commander, hmm... So, what brings you here?"
"The commander ordered me to inspect the condition of the fortress. That goes for not only the fortress, but also those stationed here—like you."
"Mm. I see. Understood. Please, come in."
Surprisingly, Joseph ushered Erich's group in without hesitation—the hostility from the entrance having disappeared.
'Well, if he were to antagonize an officer directly from the Black Citadel, it would only look more suspicious.'
At the entrance, Gustav nodded.
"Go ahead. My authority ends here."
"What about you?"
"I just said I'd bring you, didn't I? There's nothing I need to see inside. Wouldn't recognize it anyway. No business here, so off I go."
"Suit yourself."
Erich saw Gustav off and entered with Barnes and Frederick.
Inside, the place was tidy, but the long hallways reminded him of a barracks. Judging by that, there were probably at least several dozen residing personnel.
As Joseph showed Erich around, he spoke in a wheezing voice.
"There are about thirty members of the research unit stationed here."
"... It seems quite clean, not typical of the Watch."
"Well, since it also doubles as an infirmary, cleanliness is needed... Oh? This gentleman's complexion doesn't look well at all."
Something indeed seemed off about Barnes's face—a shadow seemed to hang over it. Erich sensed something strange. Barnes had seemed unwell ever since arriving here.
Erich paused to reflect. When had Barnes's expression changed?
One was when the heretic pendant was found. The other must be now. He didn't know the exact reason, but there seemed to be a connection.
'I'll have to check on this when things are quiet.'
Joseph scrutinized Barnes before sharply turning around.
"... Well, perhaps you should stop by later. The infirmary's always open."
"We'll handle it. We've already seen some unpleasant sights."
"Unpleasant sights?"
"Someone's been draining barbarian blood, leaving the dying stacked up like refuse."
"... Ah, that."
Joseph's eyes rolled strangely. His expression resembled a reptile's more than a human's, which made Erich feel oddly uncomfortable.
Joseph finished thinking, then spoke as if it were nothing.
"They're just barbarians. No need to concern yourself."
"No need to be concerned?"
"Yes, exactly."
― KWAANG!
Everyone's gaze turned to Erich. He grabbed Joseph by the collar and slammed his light body against the wall. Hostile glances from the research members were palpable.
But Erich didn't care—he pulled something from his sleeve. The heretic pendant.
"Someone left this behind. Do you know anything about it?"
"I don't know anything about that. But, are you ready to deal with the consequences of this?"
"Are you? It's suspicious enough, collecting human blood—but if you're using the power of a cult, even your grandfather couldn't save you."
"... Cults... I'm not sure what you mean, but I can explain the matter of barbarian blood right now."
"You can explain?"
"Yes, but please, calm down. You seem quite agitated."
Erich shoved Joseph away roughly. Joseph, after being pushed back some distance, calmly adjusted his clothes—strangely unflustered for a man who'd just been assaulted.
"Please, follow me."
Gustav had guided them to the largest, innermost room. From inside, they could hear strange moans.
"... What is this?"
"Have you ever heard of transfusions?"
Erich looked once again at the tent's scene.
There were quite a few personnel lying on beds—most with severed limbs, their bodies tightly wrapped in bandages, bleeding out.
"Uuuh, urgh...."
And simultaneously, Erich saw it.
He confirmed how the drained barbarian blood was being used. Tubes ran from blood bags filled to the brim, going into the wounded soldiers' forearms.
"I've heard of it. But isn't that a gambling move? Most people drop dead when given someone else's blood."
"Well, those people would die anyway. Isn't it worth trying, if only to inspire some hope? In addition, our transfusion technique is quite advanced."
Indeed, Erich could see they had put a lot of thought into the transfusion method. The blood was kept heated so it wouldn't freeze, but still at the correct temperature—not cooked.
Turning handles slowly to keep the blood in motion probably kept it from clotting. A rough job for whomever had to do it, but their efforts were clearly reflected in the transfusion system.
Joseph bared his teeth in a pale smile, as if to say, "Convinced now?"
"Hope your misunderstanding's been cleared up. Is there anything else you wish to ask?"
"... No, that's enough."
Erich nodded slowly. But despite that answer, he had already made up his mind.
'I see clearly now that you bastards are up to no good.'
Erich was not at all convinced by how things operated here.
There was suspicion at every turn here.
The system was almost as if it had been set up for display.... They said the barbarian blood was for transfusions, but doing the math, that explanation made no sense.
As for transfusions, Erich had actually known about them even before his regression.
It was not a commonly used technique right now due to the absence of frequent battles as in the future's 'Great War.'
But, back before the regression, when he served as commander, he had already considered and even used transfusions as a way to make up for inevitable losses when fighting the dead's army.
But the conclusion he had reached at the time was that such methods could never make up for the loss in troop strength.
Erich's eyes swept the infirmary. There were over ten patients here, but most—should they survive—had no hope of fighting again.
Perhaps they could live the rest of their lives somewhat humanly, but as soldiers, they were finished.
If such loss rates continued, the fortress should have been abandoned ages ago. The very fact it lasted this long was already absurd.
'Unless they have a way to regenerate lost limbs....'
Suddenly, a grim hypothesis flashed through Erich's head. But he quickly stifled the ominous thought. The fortress had endured too long for that to be likely.
Slowly, Erich's hand moved to his sword. He'd seen what he needed to see. Now, it was time to beat the truth out of someone, if necessary.
― CLANG!
Erich's blade flashed out, aimed at Joseph's neck. No one had expected such a swift draw, and everyone stared, dumbfounded.
"... Was my previous explanation insufficient?"
"You think what you said was enough? You take me for a fool. How about we start with a good beating?"
Erich's face hardened as he barked out.
But at that moment—
"Who gave you leave to rough up anyone here!"
Erich's gaze turned to a man with an unusually commanding voice.
A sharply cut gaze, an angular face. Even his stubble, though graying, was neatly trimmed.
A man with an extremely stern air stepped into Erich's view. He glared between Erich and Joseph, then fixed his eyes on the drawn sword.
"Erich von Krupp. No matter that you came from the Black Citadel, your arrogance knows no bounds."
The moment he heard those words, Erich knew who he was.
Mark Richter.
Commander of the 6th Fortress, destined to lead it for another ten years.
But Erich remembered him a bit differently.
At the fall of mankind, he had stood at the vanguard of the dead's legion, and became one of the most powerful death knights.
The vanguard of destruction.
That was the commander of the 6th Fortress—Richter.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】