Ch.122122. Elandia (1)

The northwestern region of the Rom Empire. The area, characterized by vast fertile plains and excellent climate, provided an ideal environment for plant growth.

Thanks to this, the northwest naturally became the most agriculturally developed region in the Rom Empire.

Or rather, to be more precise, instead of simply lumping it together as “the most developed,” it might be more accurate to express it this way:

70% of all wheat and grain produced throughout the empire is grown in this northwestern region.

In other words, it has such overwhelming productivity that it’s considered the breadbasket of the Rom Empire, and the biggest reason for this phenomenon is undoubtedly its blessed environment.

A temperate climate that’s neither too hot nor too cold. Consistent rainfall throughout the four seasons. Incredibly fertile soil comparable to black earth regions, plus abundant water resources.

Moreover, thanks to excellent civil engineering capabilities and the mass mobilization of expendable serfs, reservoirs were strategically placed throughout the region, allowing them to easily withstand even severe droughts for years.

With such a perfect environment optimized for growing crops, there’s a saying that the northwest is prosperous… and this holds true to some extent in reality.

Not only is it excellent for grain cultivation, but it’s also ideal for various fruit trees, and particularly well-developed in winemaking using high-quality grapes.

Additionally, in the slightly less ideal northern areas, fodder crops can be grown, enabling livestock farming of pigs, sheep, and cattle, making meat quite common.

Thanks to this, even self-employed farmers with just a small plot of land could actively utilize this abundance, enjoying luxuries that only nobles could afford in the mainland.

It was commonplace to eat white bread without any rye and meat daily, and to drink easily obtainable wine with every meal.

However, these luxuries were only permitted to those who owned land.

The serfs, who made up 60% of the northwestern Rom Empire’s population, worked themselves to the bone every day, only to see most of their earnings go to taxes, leaving them with merely 10% in the end.

They were treated worse than tenant farmers, essentially like agricultural slaves.

As a result, many serfs starved to death despite living in such abundant lands, but the nobles, landowners, and rulers didn’t care at all.

They reasoned that for every serf who died, another would be born, and besides, there were already too many people. In truth, if serfs were in short supply, they could simply use some of their wealth to buy more.

Consequently, in the northwest where prosperity didn’t necessarily correlate with people’s welfare, unlike other cities, there were mainly cities dedicated to managing the produced food.

One such city was Elandia.

Located in the eastern part of the northwest region and situated at a strategic transportation hub, this city’s role was to serve as a military granary.

It produced and stored military provisions—food to sustain the army—and supplied food to legions stationed in the east when needed.

As a result, despite being a rear city, Elandia’s defenses were comparable to a fortress, with an entire legion stationed there to manage it.

The moment this city fell, a significant portion of the food meant for the northeastern front would be lost, naturally prolonging the war against the Orc Empire due to food shortages.

In this city, which was managed almost like the front lines despite being in the rear, they didn’t use ordinary serfs.

With strong orc slaves captured as prisoners and spoils of war from the front lines, there was no reason to use weak, frail serfs.

Unlike serfs who were still imperial citizens, these orcs could be killed without consequence, and naturally, due to their racial characteristics, they far surpassed humans in strength and endurance.

Moreover, these orcs were originally warriors who fought in battles, making them stronger than ordinary orcs. Thanks to this, they could compensate with their strength for the productivity lost due to being prisoners.

However, orcs had stronger pride and rebellious tendencies than expected, so managing them required not ordinary supervisors but legion soldiers.

There was even a saying that the legion soldiers weren’t stationed there to protect the city, but to subdue rebellious orcs.

Anyway, despite this unique environment, since this was still the rear, nothing particularly eventful happened.

Every day, they made orcs farm between the city—prison camp and farmland, and when orcs died, they were appropriately ground up and mixed with meat scraps or barley to make “porridge” for rations. Then one day…

“C-Centurion! B-big trouble!”

“…What’s the matter?”

“The L-Legion Commander… h-has p-passed away!”

“What…?!”

And so, the news that the Legion Commander had died spread throughout Elandia.

The Legion Commander, the highest commanding officer of a legion consisting of about 3,000-5,000 men—in this world where personal combat prowess was essential for high-ranking military officers—was a position that could only be held by at least a skilled mid-level veteran (Grade 5 or higher) warrior.

Of course, since this was a rear unit, the commanding Legion Commander was nearing retirement, almost 60 years old, making him close to elderly by social standards…

But for an Aura user, being in their 60s still meant they could serve actively, and physically, they were equivalent to someone in their early 30s—quite formidable.

So how could such a Legion Commander have died?

“Explain in more detail! What exactly happened?”

“Y-yes! So—”

As the Centurion pressed the Decurion who had brought him this news, the Decurion, serving as a messenger, quickly caught his breath and began his story.

This morning, the Legion Commander, who would normally have already come out and started work, hadn’t appeared in his office even by midday.

Feeling something was off, the Legion Commander’s adjutant went directly to his quarters…

There, the adjutant discovered, incredibly, the Legion Commander’s body lying on the floor, cold and lifeless.

How could someone who had been perfectly fine and full of energy just the day before suddenly collapse and die?

Suspicious, the legion members investigated thoroughly. The cause of the Legion Commander’s death was determined to be suffocation from a piece of meat stuck in his throat…

This bore all the hallmarks of deliberate intervention.

A mid-level warrior should be able to crush bones with the internal pressure of their throat, yet he died from choking on a mere piece of pork tenderloin?

Although the medical officer confirmed that the cause of death was respiratory failure, this didn’t diminish the suspiciousness of the situation.

Therefore, after concluding that this was likely disguised assassination, a meeting was held with all officers ranked Centurion and above in the legion.

The legion, consisting of 6,000 members total, had about 80 officers.

While discussing the assassination that had secretly killed a veteran mid-level warrior, they learned several additional facts from the medical officer and messenger who urgently arrived.

First, the complete absence of external wounds indicated he definitely didn’t die in combat.

Second, while the Legion Commander died from respiratory failure, it had nothing to do with the meat in his throat.

Third, the absence of marks on his neck ruled out strangulation.

Fourth, there was no noise near the quarters, nor any signs of struggle at the scene.

And finally, the fifth and most decisive fact:

An unidentified highly toxic substance was found in the Legion Commander’s body, and an experimental subject—an orc—died immediately from respiratory failure after consuming a tiny amount of it.

This fact revealed that the fundamental cause of the incident was poisoning—someone unknown had deliberately attempted to assassinate the Legion Commander.

Therefore, they resolved to quickly identify the poisoned food and ended the day’s meeting as darkness fell…

Unfortunately, this strange death incident didn’t end there.

The next day, the legion’s quartermaster collapsed, vomiting black blood while in bed with his male lover.

The next day, the commander of the First Cohort was found beheaded without any signs of resistance.

The next day, the commander of the Second Cavalry suddenly had a seizure, fell from his horse, and died instantly from a broken neck.

Not just one, but three deaths—all in key positions within the legion—clearly indicated this was the work of those intentionally attacking the legion.

Fortunately, they discovered that the source of the poisoning was meat supplied from a certain ranch. The legion attacked the ranch, killed the landowner, and appropriately “confiscated” his assets.

Additionally, they secured a contract with a newly established ranch nearby—Wolf Ranch—to supply meat in bulk at quite a cheap price for the legion members.

Thus, the incident seemed to be concluding as the highly personal deviation of some anti-Rom Empire reactionary.