diymy #404 - Why is your face purple?
#404 - Why is your face purple?
The towering city walls were covered in bloodstains and broken arrows and spears, with two sides completely obscured by massive siege towers.
Hundreds of guards, masking their fear with war cries, rapidly ascended the siege tower's steps, surging onto the city walls.
They were met by blood-drinking vines, each taller than a man, gorged with three days' worth of blood.
The thick, arm-like vines lashed out like octopuses, tearing away chunks of fur-covered flesh wherever they struck.
Soldiers were thrown from the walls or drained of their blood, their skeletal remains falling to the ground below.
Soon, the hundreds of guards retreated hastily from the walls, replaced by waves of peasants driven forward, wailing and scrambling up the siege towers.
The alternating attacks of peasant soldiers and guards were designed to exhaust the witch Catherine's magical power.
Constant use of magic would put immense pressure on the witch's mind, potentially causing her to descend into madness.
This strategy, adopted on the advice of a witcher consultant, was a desperate measure.
After all, the witch Catherine's magic was too absurd; she could not only cultivate plants but also control them, and in vast quantities.
Even a knight of the Order of the Edict could fall victim to the blood-drinking vines if they weren't careful on the battlefield.
Moreover, Catherine was well-trained and possessed an extremely long casting range, making it difficult for the Church's suppression spells to reach her.
Witchers had attempted assassinations, but the witch was now heavily guarded by the Cush Black Knights and Blackwater Serpent mages; any assassins sent were as good as dead.
Not only were the attempts ineffective, but they also nearly resulted in Mittene sweeping out all the hidden agents within the city.
After that great fire, Rapid Falls had actually held out for about a week, exceeding everyone's expectations.
If it weren't for the witch within the city, they probably would have conquered it long ago.
What was the Thousand River Valley Church doing? How could they have hidden so many witches in the Thousand River Valley?
First, there was the witch Jeanne popping up in the east, and now the witch Catherine appearing in the west.
The probability of a witch being born was one in a million, and the probability of reaching adulthood was one in ten million.
Blackwater Serpent had gathered witches from across the empire, yet the number of currently active witches barely reached ten.
How could so many witches emerge from the Thousand River Valley Church's heartland, one of its primary sources of tax revenue? It simply didn't make sense.
Nursing his grievances against Constance, Arman led a group of high-ranking Church military officers away from the front lines.
Dismounting, the group walked among the chaotic tents and makeshift blacksmith shops, where they saw peasant women balancing wooden buckets and pottery jars on their heads, as well as patrolling soldiers.
Whenever Arman and his entourage passed by, the soldiers and peasants would carefully move to the side and bow their heads, not daring to hesitate even with buckets balanced on their heads.
"Lord Arman, Lord Arman," a grizzled middle-aged knight suddenly darted out from the side, blocking Arman's path.
"Who is it?"
"Get out of the way, you commoner!"
Two halberds immediately thrust forward, pressing against the middle-aged knight's neck, forcing him to stagger back two steps.
"Who are you?" Holding back the two knights, Arman scrutinized the impoverished knight clad in a coarse linen undergarment. "Tell me your lineage, knight."
"I am Dessay of the Talanar family," the knight stated, composed despite the prickly gazes around him, executing a standard noble bow. "Hired by Lord Barnifos."
His bowing motion was a bit too exaggerated, revealing a small hole in the waist of his linen-blend shirt, causing the surrounding attendants and knights to snicker.
They all understood; this was an impoverished knight who had been reduced to working as a mercenary.
He had quite the nerve, daring to intercept Arman.
Straightening up, the knight named Dessay continued, undeterred, "My lord, there is a problem with the logistics supply of potions. After drinking them, we have experienced varying degrees of cyanosis."
Cyanosis was a rare medical discovery of the imperial doctors, manifested as a dark purple discoloration of the skin on the face and hands, a result of "excessive black bile."
"Cyanosis?" Arman paused, then asked curiously, "With such a long and intense siege, isn't it normal to experience cyanosis?
We will conquer the city soon. Just endure it a little longer. When we do, I will let you plunder freely."
These transcendent knights consumed potions almost every other day. The concentration of blood potions was quite high, and coupled with the high-intensity use of breathing techniques, cyanosis was bound to occur.
"My lord, it's not about the plundering. The onset is too rapid. It's not easy to see on those with darker complexions, but anyone even slightly pale..."
"Enough," Count Komar interrupted impatiently. "A little cyanosis has frightened you? Lord Arman is a busy man; he doesn't have time to waste on idle chatter."
Arman stopped Komar, speaking gently to Dessay, "We are about to hold a military conference. How about you discuss this matter with Count Komar later? I will occasionally inquire about the situation from him."
Dessay glanced at the haughty Count Komar, his doubt evident to everyone, but he still stepped aside.
Arman hadn't blamed him for his rude interruption and had even graciously offered a solution, so he certainly couldn't push his luck.
"My tent is over there," Count Komar said, pointing to a tent with a blue and cyan banner hanging on it. "If you want to find me, speak to my attendants. Whenever I am there, they will let you in."
Count Komar left this remark and trotted to catch up with Arman, heading towards the central military camp.
However, after walking a few steps, he turned back, carefully scrutinizing Dessay in the distance before continuing towards the camp.
Lifting the tent flap, a mixture of spice, grease, decay, heather, and the stench of feet assaulted the senses.
Even Arman couldn't help but pinch his nose, looking as if his eyes had been stung.
Several tables were arranged inside the camp, with nobles chattering and huddled together, discussing women and wine.
The carpet was littered with leftover chicken bones from the previous day, and the table, though wiped, was still greasy and stained with wine, even blurring the map.
Within the entire tent, only Arman's individual seat was clean.
"I will go change my clothes first," Arman said to the nobles in the tent. "Once I return, we will formally begin the military conference."
Seeing Arman leave with his attendants to change, Count Komar looked around, noticing that almost no one was paying attention to him.
He then grabbed the robe decorated with golden crosses, shrunk his body, and slipped behind Countess Marika behind the table.
"Lady Marika, just now, outside, a knight named Dessay seemed to have discovered something about the potions. Should we..."
Count Komar was well aware of what Dessay had said.
For this battle, Arman and Barnifos had spared no expense, emptying the warehouses of most of the Thousand River Valley diocese and bringing in massive quantities of potions.
Including Khan potions, spider potions, anti-Bolon potions, and even many potions made from magical beast meat, which were quite precious.
So Komar, who was in charge of logistics, discussed with Countess Marika, feeling that with the prolonged war, it was normal for potion consumption to be higher.
At most, they could just pour some wine into them to dilute them during inspections.
Then, Komar had spoken to several nobles in charge of this matter, issuing notes allowing them to send their subordinates to take out several batches, and then they would split the money.
But the problem was that Komar had met with each noble separately to maintain secrecy, and his words were vague and ambiguous.
As a result, the other nobles all thought they were the only ones doing it and felt that taking a little more wouldn't have much impact.
In the end, the amount of potions taken out exceeded the planned amount by three times.
The lower-level warehouse managers didn't dare to say anything, thinking that they were all acting independently. Only Knight Dessay had noticed something.
It wasn't until the money was in hand that Count Komar realized in shock, how could there be so much extra?
When Komar went to test the potions again, he found that the concentration of these potions was less than half of what it originally was.
As for the knights' cyanosis symptoms, they were caused by drinking inferior diluted potions.
"Dessay of the Talanar family?" In Komar's expectant gaze, Countess Marika wiped her thick fingers on her handkerchief. "He is a relative of the new bishop Shealy, don't touch him."
"Then what should we do? Should we demote him to the lowest-ranking squad leader?"
"No, promote him, transfer him to command a squadron, give him more opportunities on the battlefield, and don't let him stay in logistics," Countess Marika said, shaking her greasy, plump head, her voice as deep as a man's.
Dessay was, after all, of noble birth, and had the new Cardinal Shealy behind him. Demoting him would only make him stubbornly continue to seek the truth.
If he became the captain of a cavalry squadron and was sent to the battlefield more often, he would not only have no time to continue investigating, but even if Shealy came, it would be difficult to say anything.
"Okay, I'll contact them right away."
Count Komar was about to leave, but Marika stopped him, staring intently at Komar. "Before we leave Rapid Falls, we must balance the books. Do you understand my meaning?"
"Understood, understood," Count Komar replied, dripping with sweat.
Although Komar and Marika were both counts, his father was only a small baron, while Marika was born into the Osla family.
The current Duke Omes of Osla was someone even the old Pope had to show respect to. Some even said that the Thorn Garden was the Osla family's backyard.
The opportunity to balance the books would probably only come during the chaos of Rapid Falls' fall.
Until then, he had to be very careful.
"Lord Arman is back, quickly return to your positions!"
Count Komar immediately recovered from his worries, straightened his back, and stood at attention.