Chapter 151
Inside the most lavish tent of the whole camp, the Royal Seneschal was currently seated at a small desk pouring through reports and expenses spent in managing this encampment.
He sighed and rubbed his temples as he looked at the numbers.
The priests daily cleansing cost them 1 gold coin per hour. Not too expensive... for a one-day venture. Considering that they had been here for over a week and a half it was far too much.
And that was just the cost for one group. A large majority had to be spent on the fees for the numerous Journeymen to keep them from simply returning to the Journeyman band where they could farm safely rather than risk their lives here.
While the various Adepts could force them to stay, a willing worker was far better than a forced one, especially in a delicate operation like this. Unfortunately, this meant that the final cost was not easy to bear.
Most importantly, there was the cost of resources. Out here, there was no natural vegetation or edible animals for them to forage or hunt, so they had to rely on food deliveries from the Baratuo outpost.
Due to the quantity required and the difficulty to transportation across the Plains of Death to their camp - putting aside distance - the danger alone was enough to stifle any willing party.
They were forced to rely on a certain group of Journeymen and Adepts who had awakened or sparked with spatial talents allowing them to teleport to get the supplies. Alas, the fee they collected for their service was once again quite steep.
Elijah sighed once more. He had advised against the Queen's idea of taking charge over this venture to try and establish control over the various factions as well as appeal to the expert behind this entire event, yet she had not listened to him.
It was easy to take charge with his prestige and power, as well as the name of the Royal Faction, but to control these fellows who were here for benefits? It required a lot of work.
Firstly, as the chairman, he had to subsidize the costs for all the factions regarding supplies and the blight. Oh, they certainly 'paid' their due, but the amount was less than 70% of what they should have ideally paid up to cover their individual costs.
As such, he - as a representative of the Royal Faction - had to cough up the rest. So what if he didn't like it or felt it was unfair? He was welcome to give up his seat of chairman to another and let them bear the cost.
Who asked him to go for the seat? He was just one powerful Adept with a good reputation, but there were countless other powerful factions and families present, so they were only wary at best.
Ha, had someone else sat where he did, they would likely have to fork over 90% of all the funds required to manage this outpost while having very little power in reality.
As had become the norm, he briefly entertained his desire of stepping away from his position and return to the castle where he could continue his magical research… but since he ate from the hand of the Royal Faction, there were times when he had to bark or charge in the direction the faction pointed to.
Soon, Elijah sensed someone approaching his tent and placed his work down with a frown. Before the Journeyman outside could report his presence, he heard Elijah's stern voice from inside the tent.
"Enter."
Startled but impressed, the fellow entered the tent to see the minimalistic decorations within. Apart from a bed, drawer, and a desk, there was literally nothing else in there.
Bowing in greeting, the Journeyman informed the Royal Seneschal of Darius' presence and intentions. With a surprised gleam in his eye, Elijah realized he might finally get his chance at breaking the stalemate in all aspects.
"Bring him in!"
...…
Darius entered the camp and assessed it. It was set up linearly, and everyone had their own space that was separated from those of other factions. It was easy to tell who was who by the flags hanging within each area, denoting the factions.
If you were obtuse, you could also find out the hard way, through the fists of the laymen protecting each minor encampment as if everyone else was an enemy. Not that that was completely wrong.
After all, they were technically all fellow competitors for Darius' rewards. There was a need to pool resources together because there was an unstoppable obstacle before them, but it was a pipe dream for everyone to become fully invested, allowing someone else to steal the cake.
Darius noted the tensions between the various factions and smiled. Their hostility towards each other would make them much easier to manipulate as opposed to being monolithic, united in heart and purposes.
Darius was brought to Elijah's tent where he entered with Gunner and the duo of undead in tow, who had been closely watched by all the passerby.
When Darius set his eyes on the Royal Seneschal, he made sure to Analyze him to get a good read on his power.
[Detected target is of a Friendly affiliation. Displaying details accordingly.]
[Name: Elijah McNickles
Race: Human
Class: Mage
Subclass: Royal Seneschal
HP: 3,776/3,776
MP: 5,841/5,841
Level: 59
Strength: 64
Agility: 55
Endurance: 59
Intellect: 99
Charisma: 13
Luck: 7
P-Status: Healthy
M-Status: Curious
Affection: Friendly lvl 1]
Darius was startled by what he saw. No wonder the Royal Seneschal was also greatly respected and in a way that was no lesser than Kubrick! This old fellow was almost a Master-stage expert!
But that wasn't it!
What made Darius' expression change into something strange was his rapid mental comparison with the stats of the two undead.
Despite Mikey and Joneson being 1 entire stage beneath him, heck by exactly 24 levels, in fact, they both had better stats than Elijah in many categories.
The only exceptions were the Intellect and Luck stats, where Elijah surpassed them by three and seven points respectively.
This gave Darius hope for the future growth of the two undead fellows, and the best way to do that would be to get them to handle the remaining Adept foes.
Once they did that, they would not only pave the way forward for the camp, it would also strengthen the undead duo and grant Darius more clout.
Killing three swift birds with one small stone!
He sighed and rubbed his temples as he looked at the numbers.
The priests daily cleansing cost them 1 gold coin per hour. Not too expensive... for a one-day venture. Considering that they had been here for over a week and a half it was far too much.
And that was just the cost for one group. A large majority had to be spent on the fees for the numerous Journeymen to keep them from simply returning to the Journeyman band where they could farm safely rather than risk their lives here.
While the various Adepts could force them to stay, a willing worker was far better than a forced one, especially in a delicate operation like this. Unfortunately, this meant that the final cost was not easy to bear.
Most importantly, there was the cost of resources. Out here, there was no natural vegetation or edible animals for them to forage or hunt, so they had to rely on food deliveries from the Baratuo outpost.
Due to the quantity required and the difficulty to transportation across the Plains of Death to their camp - putting aside distance - the danger alone was enough to stifle any willing party.
They were forced to rely on a certain group of Journeymen and Adepts who had awakened or sparked with spatial talents allowing them to teleport to get the supplies. Alas, the fee they collected for their service was once again quite steep.
Elijah sighed once more. He had advised against the Queen's idea of taking charge over this venture to try and establish control over the various factions as well as appeal to the expert behind this entire event, yet she had not listened to him.
It was easy to take charge with his prestige and power, as well as the name of the Royal Faction, but to control these fellows who were here for benefits? It required a lot of work.
Firstly, as the chairman, he had to subsidize the costs for all the factions regarding supplies and the blight. Oh, they certainly 'paid' their due, but the amount was less than 70% of what they should have ideally paid up to cover their individual costs.
As such, he - as a representative of the Royal Faction - had to cough up the rest. So what if he didn't like it or felt it was unfair? He was welcome to give up his seat of chairman to another and let them bear the cost.
Who asked him to go for the seat? He was just one powerful Adept with a good reputation, but there were countless other powerful factions and families present, so they were only wary at best.
Ha, had someone else sat where he did, they would likely have to fork over 90% of all the funds required to manage this outpost while having very little power in reality.
As had become the norm, he briefly entertained his desire of stepping away from his position and return to the castle where he could continue his magical research… but since he ate from the hand of the Royal Faction, there were times when he had to bark or charge in the direction the faction pointed to.
Soon, Elijah sensed someone approaching his tent and placed his work down with a frown. Before the Journeyman outside could report his presence, he heard Elijah's stern voice from inside the tent.
"Enter."
Startled but impressed, the fellow entered the tent to see the minimalistic decorations within. Apart from a bed, drawer, and a desk, there was literally nothing else in there.
Bowing in greeting, the Journeyman informed the Royal Seneschal of Darius' presence and intentions. With a surprised gleam in his eye, Elijah realized he might finally get his chance at breaking the stalemate in all aspects.
"Bring him in!"
...…
Darius entered the camp and assessed it. It was set up linearly, and everyone had their own space that was separated from those of other factions. It was easy to tell who was who by the flags hanging within each area, denoting the factions.
If you were obtuse, you could also find out the hard way, through the fists of the laymen protecting each minor encampment as if everyone else was an enemy. Not that that was completely wrong.
After all, they were technically all fellow competitors for Darius' rewards. There was a need to pool resources together because there was an unstoppable obstacle before them, but it was a pipe dream for everyone to become fully invested, allowing someone else to steal the cake.
Darius noted the tensions between the various factions and smiled. Their hostility towards each other would make them much easier to manipulate as opposed to being monolithic, united in heart and purposes.
Darius was brought to Elijah's tent where he entered with Gunner and the duo of undead in tow, who had been closely watched by all the passerby.
When Darius set his eyes on the Royal Seneschal, he made sure to Analyze him to get a good read on his power.
[Detected target is of a Friendly affiliation. Displaying details accordingly.]
[Name: Elijah McNickles
Race: Human
Class: Mage
Subclass: Royal Seneschal
HP: 3,776/3,776
MP: 5,841/5,841
Level: 59
Strength: 64
Agility: 55
Endurance: 59
Intellect: 99
Charisma: 13
Luck: 7
P-Status: Healthy
M-Status: Curious
Affection: Friendly lvl 1]
Darius was startled by what he saw. No wonder the Royal Seneschal was also greatly respected and in a way that was no lesser than Kubrick! This old fellow was almost a Master-stage expert!
But that wasn't it!
What made Darius' expression change into something strange was his rapid mental comparison with the stats of the two undead.
Despite Mikey and Joneson being 1 entire stage beneath him, heck by exactly 24 levels, in fact, they both had better stats than Elijah in many categories.
The only exceptions were the Intellect and Luck stats, where Elijah surpassed them by three and seven points respectively.
This gave Darius hope for the future growth of the two undead fellows, and the best way to do that would be to get them to handle the remaining Adept foes.
Once they did that, they would not only pave the way forward for the camp, it would also strengthen the undead duo and grant Darius more clout.
Killing three swift birds with one small stone!
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