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The outcome of battle cannot be hastily predicted.

There are simply too many factors, big and small, to consider.

The number of troops, the amount of supplies, the quality of weaponry, tactics and strategies for attacking the enemy, the presence and count of knights and wizards, and even the weather.

In that sense, Afterglow Fortress can be said to be in a crisis.

Beyond the mountain ranges lies a vast army of the Undead.

While the forces from the Present area do not compare, they still swarm toward us.

It could be said that we are effectively surrounded from both the front and rear.

Moreover, the enemy possesses a power presumed to be that of a Grand Wizard.

Though currently neutralized, it is troubling nonetheless.

It is hard to claim that any situation is advantageous.

Despite being in such a threatening and disadvantageous situation that could easily dampen morale, the mood within the fortress wasn’t all that bad.

No, to Karem’s eyes, the fortress was bustling with more people than before and seemed rather lively.

The workers and maids going up and down from that high fortress, aided by a busy elevator, wore expressions of worry and irritation from their labor, yet darkness did not settle over them.

For some reason, the heavily armed soldiers, adventurers, warriors, and knights lounging inside the fortress were passing the time with jokes and betting, their laughter filling the air.

The guards and attendants who had come from Coldon with Catherine seemed a bit uneasy, but they quickly adapted to the fortress’s atmosphere, blending in naturally.

It was a completely different ambiance from the urgent situation outside the fortress.

Except for Karem, who just entered the fortress moments ago, no one flinched even as the vibrations from the siege by the high-ranking Undead echoed around them.

“Hmm, how should I explain this?”

“Must you really ponder it?”

“We’re just so accustomed to it.”

At Karem’s questioning while dicing onions, Borgo paused from kneading the dough.

His contemplation didn’t last long.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but large-scale invasions are not that rare here.”

“Uh, I think I’ve heard about it once before. Why is that?”

“It means we’re familiar with such invasions because they happen frequently.”

Borgo set aside the completed dough and piled more flour.

“Only this past spring, an invasion occurred.”

“…A large-scale army like this?”

“It was a horde of monsters that had just survived winter and were starved.”

It may have been the pride of a real man, but the nods from other chefs around suggested it was indeed the truth.

“During the time of Your Grace, the Duke of the Border, well… what can I say?”

“Back then, regardless of status, we all starved together.”

“Compared to that time, now is a paradise!”

Borgo summarized what the chefs added in short phrases.

“If we distribute supplies like now… we could last at least five years.”

“Five years? Just for Afterglow Fortress?”

“Yes. There’s enough water with the snow and ice all around, and wells too. Well, Present is a concern, but Your Grace will manage somehow.”

Borgo shrugged his flour-covered shoulders as if to say, what can we do?

So, the atmosphere is bright despite having faced greater adversities? Karem was taken aback and almost cut his finger with the chef’s knife.

Indeed, if they had repeatedly experienced times when food was scarce in situations like now, it would make sense that the mood was so cheerful.

Surrounded on all sides?

In the past, it was worse than this, right?

Compared to that, there’s even enough food to go around?

What on earth could they possibly complain about in such a wildly positive mood?

“Hmm… then—”

What could be the reason the Undead commander invaded?

Karem shifted his diced onions onto another chef and then pondered.

In a fortified situation like Afterglow Fortress, where the biggest threats typically include food supply, people’s morale, informants, or betrayers.

When food is scarce, no matter how solid the fortress may be, morale inevitably wavers, leading to traitors willing to collaborate with the enemy.

Of course, traitors can arise regardless, but if the situation is favorable for the fortress, there wouldn’t need to be any betrayal.

“Informants like Rowan. Did they stir up chaos while being surrounded on all sides, attempting to climb the fortress walls in the confusion…?”

Alternatively, they could have simply opened the gates.

Everything seemed to fit perfectly into place.

But didn’t they say all informants had been caught?

“Borgo! Borgo!”

“Hmm? Is there something else you wish to ask?”

His eyebrows curved like ripples.

“I’ve been hearing screams these past few days. Did you manage to uncover any informants?”

“Oh, indeed. Hah. In my lifetime, I never thought an informant could hide in the fortress, let alone one from the Demon Tribe that I heard about only in stories. How has the world turned upside down?”

“I heard that the Kongarum I provided was used as well.”

“Ah, yes. That Kongarum.”

As Borgo snapped his fingers, little clouds of flour rose.

“That Kongarum was quite something! Mixing a spoonful into a bowl of salted water not only tasted decent but also managed to capture the lurking Demons.”

“So, all the informants have been—”

“Of course. They were either made to consume holy water or given my Kongarum, or both.”

With confidence, Borgo continued kneading the dough, while Karem considered that perhaps the plans of that Undead commander and their accomplices had already gone awry.

Specifically, it had to do with the informant Demon, Rowan.

Starting from the moment that shapeshifter drank the soybean paste stew without any suspicion.

Morale among the soldiers was also high, and stored food supplies were ample.

All informants had already been completely rounded up long ago.

…Perhaps there’s no need to feel anxious right now?

“Oh, I don’t know. For now, we’re handling it well.”

“Karem, could I trouble you for a bit more onion?”

“I don’t mind, but what are you making?”

“A stew filled with meat and lots of vegetables, and something you can eat with your hands like a pie.”

Let’s see. Borgo snatched a pie from the tray a passing chef was holding.

“This is an improved version of a travel pie. Would you like to try it?”

Karem gladly accepted Borgo’s offer and took the pie.

The rectangular pie, about the size of an adult’s palm, was freshly baked and warm.

Steam wafted from it, but since it wasn’t brushed with egg wash, it didn’t have a golden-brown hue.

Karem halved the pie.

And a strong meaty aroma immediately tickled his nose.

It wasn’t the smell of undercooked or unprocessed meat.

Rather, it was a rich and sticky scent, like the flavor of beef roasted over charcoal, heavily saturated in gravy sauce.

The interior of the pie was packed tight with chunks of meat, refusing to give up its place to any vegetables, raising a slight concern that it might feel greasy.

“But, it looks like there are no vegetables?”

“Well, if we used vegetables, they’d release moisture so it wouldn’t be easy to eat by hand. Instead, I chopped everything up and tossed it into the stew.”

At the end of Borgo’s finger was a massive pot bubbling away in the center over the charcoal stove, large enough to easily accommodate several adults.

As three chefs clung to the pot filled with stew, they quickly set a new pot down and started tossing in ingredients like onions, bell peppers, and mushrooms.

“A vegetable stew?”

“It’s not just vegetables. You know about the leftover front brisket, right?”

“Front brisket? Oh? The first Kongarum stew?”

“It’s an assortment of meats that hardly gained any popularity, leftover from the last batch, which I thought to put into the poor people’s stew of Present, but given the circumstances…”

Borgo shrugged.

With that simple gesture, Karem facepalmed.

So, in short, they were just getting rid of the leftovers.

Still, perhaps due to the shock of previous news, Karem quickly decided to ask about the orders of Gordon and Mary that had just come to mind.

“In this situation? Sure, Sir Stark’s share would be large enough, but it remains just steak, however, I’d say that crepe cakes and egg tarts might be hard right now.”

The notion of it being “hard” suggests impossible. Just a few days ago, the kitchen was busy preparing a variety of dishes, and now it was focused solely on stew and meat.

He felt somewhat dissatisfied about feeding even Catherine.

“But, do those dishes also get served to the knights and nobles?”

“Well, it was definitely different when the former Duke of the Border was in charge.”

“You mean the current Duke has made changes?”

“That seems to be the Duke’s will, as it saves time and effort. At first, some opposed it, but…”

Borgo slammed his fist down onto his palm.

It meant that he had silenced them by force.

“Then, instead of—”

“Excuse me! Is there anyone in the kitchen with free hands?!”

A maid burst through the swinging door, her demeanor urgent.

“What? We just finished preparing the vegetables, and we have some free hands available. What is it?”

“The priestesses are collapsing! We need to attend to them, but everyone is too busy!”

*

*

*

The priestesses who were preparing holy water and energizing weapons began to collapse.

Karem assumed it was something the enemies had orchestrated.

After all, that Catherine had been contending for supremacy against a Grand Wizard for over a week.

Let alone, their forces consisted of Undead.

Moreover, they had even meticulously infiltrated a few Demon accomplices.

The higher-ups of the fortress shared this train of thought, and even amidst the battle, they allocated some personnel to thoroughly investigate.

And everyone felt deflated by the unexpected conclusion.

It wasn’t some nefarious black magic from the Demons.

Or the ominous curse of a necromancer.

Or the malicious poisoning of betrayers targeting key figures.

None of it.

In comparison, it was a very natural outcome.

For those who eat, sleep, and fight, such occurrences are unavoidable.

“It’s just simple exhaustion.”

Unlike the others who returned, the priestesses had been tirelessly preparing the holy water and energizing their weapons in anticipation of the Undead invasion.

Barely getting some shut-eye to regain stamina, Afterglow Fortress had completed ample preparations in terms of sanctity.

Thus, the collapsing priestesses were simply paying the price for this reality.

“So, it’s not a big deal?”

“It’s just a matter of accumulating fatigue and low energy. Starting now, if they eat something delicious and take a few days to rest, they will naturally get back on their feet.”

In response to Karem’s question, a healer diagnosing one of the fallen priestesses simply replied.

Alongside the one in front of Karem, dozens of priestesses sprawled out in the room, and that number was slowly increasing.

“…Guh! No! Lord Hartman. How can we rest while our comrades are in fierce battle?”

“This premonition includes a leader to ensure all are well-fed!”

“How could a Highlander man indulge in laziness… Ugh…”

As they tried to rise, they would just collapse again, mumbling incoherent words while falling back asleep, prompting the steward to massage his temples.

“…Alright, if you insist that much…”

“Steward?”

The steward vanished from Karem’s sight.

No, he didn’t vanish.

Whack! Thud! Bang! Slap!

“Get up! Quickly!?”

“Sleep, Lord Hartman…”

“Sleep?! How could this be happening!!!”

With arms that moved like a gust of wind, the steward surged past officials attending the priestesses, viciously assaulting the priests who were pretending to be asleep and shedding off their fatigue.

“Blasphemy!?”

“I’ll forcibly make you rest!!!”

In an unexpected scene of religious persecution.

As much as rest was required, did it really have to be done by knocking them out?

Karem, who had thought this atmosphere was very manly and sweat-inducing, began to understand that something was definitely wrong.

And after the steward toppled the last of the priestesses, he suddenly appeared in his earlier spot like the wind.

“Tsk. If I speak gently, they don’t listen.”

“Steward! Are you perhaps feeling a bit tired yourself?”

“…Ahem, I apologize. I haven’t had much chance to rest since the return of the expedition.”

This time, perhaps feeling embarrassed, Wallace avoided Karem’s gaze and changed the subject.

“I did initiate things, but I’m not sure if that’s alright.”

“Alright? Is there a problem?”

“Well, that’s what I was getting at.”

As Wallace quietly surveyed the area, he noted that the people hurriedly turned their heads the moment their eyes met his.

Reassured, he whispered softly.

“The supply of holy water is depleting rapidly.”

The reason was simple.

In the current situation, the holy water was the leading force to break through the piles of Undead corpses. Isn’t this getting quite serious?

“…Is it permissible for you to tell me that?”

“I thought your head would figure it out soon enough, so I wanted to warn you in advance by framing it like an accusation.”

“Then is that why the priestesses tried to rise against their will…?”

Karem began to trail off.

Wallace said nothing.

But that was enough.

“The current conditions are unprecedented, and the rate of depletion is far exceeding what has been stockpiled and what can be produced. Fortunately, even if the priestesses were to rest for a week…”

Wallace trailed off, but Karem understood what he meant.

It seemed the previously stockpiled holy water would run out.

With a deep sigh, Karem stretched his arms.

Those who were oblivious to the circumstances were silently laying down the collapsed priests while casting wary glances at Wallace.

Healers were mixing herbal brews, possibly to make some form of fatigue recovery remedy, when suddenly—

Wait a minute.

Did they drop it?

He slipped his hand into his pocket.

A heavy presence.

Karem snapped his fingers.

“Can’t holy water be made from holy relics as well?”

“Regrettably, I exhausted all the holy relics last autumn—”

“Holy relics can also be depleted?”

“Lower-grade holy relics cannot withstand the rituals and will be destroyed.”

“Hmm… grade, huh.”

Karem stared intently at Wallace, who appeared troubled, and silently led him out of the room.

 

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