Chapter 358 Cost of Vrethka’s Strength

Beds and sleeping spaces were packed together, with little room for privacy. Some families had almost no privacy at all, their lives exposed to their neighbors, their arguments and laughter and tears all shared.

Household possessions were limited. There were broken tools and worn furniture scattered around some homes, the items repaired so many times they were barely recognizable. Smoke escaped through small openings in roofs and walls, the fires inside providing warmth and cooking but also filling the air with haze. The smell of cooking, mud, animals, and waste mixed together into something overwhelming.

Darion realized that the people who produced Vrethka’s wealth weren’t living anywhere near as comfortably as the wealth itself suggested. They worked the fields, tended the animals, forged the weapons, and yet they lived in cramped, poor conditions. The treasury was full. The granaries were packed. The armories were stocked. But the people who made it all possible were struggling.

Darion walked deeper into the neighborhood. His boots sank slightly into the mud, the ground soft and wet.

He had to step around puddles and scattered debris, his eyes scanning the surroundings. People moved aside whenever he approached, their bodies pressing against the walls, their eyes wide. Some bowed, their heads lowering, their voices murmuring respectful greetings.

Others stared at him silently, their faces unreadable. Mothers pulled children closer, their arms wrapping around small bodies. A few children peeked at him from behind doorways, their eyes curious but fearful.

Darion didn’t say anything at first. He simply observed, his eyes taking in the cramped homes, the muddy streets, the tired faces. The warrior remained beside him, explaining which areas belonged to which families and workers. He pointed out the homes of farmers, herders, blacksmiths, and laborers. Each family had their own small space, their own small claim to the neighborhood.

Darion noticed a civilian sitting outside one of the huts. The man had a noticeable scar across part of his face and body, the mark of an old wound. Darion paused briefly, his eyes fixed on the scar. The scar should have come from an old conflict. The civilian was once involved in Vrethka’s military campaigns or caught in one of the settlement’s conflicts.

The scar was another reminder that Vrethka’s wars hadn’t only affected warriors. Ordinary people had carried the consequences too.

Darion looked at the man for a moment before continuing. He realized that many of the civilians around him probably had similar stories. Scars from battles. Lost limbs from raids. Dead family members from wars they never chose to fight. The military machine that made Vrethka powerful also chewed up the people who supported it.

Darion began connecting everything he had seen. The treasury was enormous. The livestock operation was huge. The armories were constantly producing weapons. The granaries were packed with food. The farmland was heavily taxed. The warriors were expected to fight constantly. And the civilians lived in crowded, poor conditions.

He realized that Dross built Vrethka around military strength above everything else. People weren’t necessarily treated as citizens who needed to prosper. They were treated as resources supporting the war machine.

Farmers produced crops. Herders produced animals. Blacksmiths produced weapons. Soldiers fought. Civilians supplied them. Everything ultimately fed back into Vrethka’s military power.

Darion didn’t deny that Dross made Vrethka powerful. In fact, he could now see exactly how Dross accomplished it. But there was a cost. Dross extracted as much as possible from the people and land. The territory became militarily strong while ordinary civilians remained poor.

He thought about how easily a ruler could keep doing that as long as the army remained loyal. The people had little ability to resist. Their entire livelihood depended on the same system controlling them.

If they complained, they were punished. If they rebelled, they were crushed. The army was loyal to Dross because he paid them well and gave them victories. The civilians had no such loyalty. They simply endured.

Darion realized that Dross treated his people like expendable resources. The thought made him look around the cramped neighborhood differently. He didn’t want Vrethka to simply become another version of itself under a different ruler.

Darion didn’t make a grand speech. He didn’t promise the civilians anything yet. He simply kept walking, his eyes taking in the poverty, the cramped homes, the tired faces. But internally, he began forming a different idea of what he wanted his territories to become.

Strong armies were useful. Wealth was useful. Food was useful. Weapons were useful. But if the people producing all of those things remained miserable, then eventually the entire system would become fragile.

People who had nothing to lose were dangerous. People who had no hope were unpredictable. People who were treated like resources eventually stopped caring about the system that used them.

Darion wanted Vrethka strong, but he also wanted the territory to actually grow. He wanted the people to prosper, to have enough food, to live in decent homes, to feel like their labor mattered. He wanted a system that could sustain itself, that could keep producing for years, that could weather crises and challenges.

He looked around the neighborhood one last time before turning away.

The tour had been good. To be honest, excellent. The warrior had done a remarkable job, answering every question Darion asked, guiding him through the settlement with the kind of patience and knowledge that only came from years of living there.

He hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t tried to hide anything, hadn’t even flinched when Darion asked about the more uncomfortable subjects: the slave trading, the heavy taxes, the mistreatment of civilians. He had simply answered, his voice steady, his eyes fixed on the ground.

Darion mentally noted his name. Femorn. He would definitely recommend him as an excellent tour guide, especially to Garren who would be coming soon.

Garren would need someone to show him around Vrethka, to explain the layout and the systems and the people. Femorn would be perfect for that. Seren too, when she returned. She would want to see the settlement, to understand what they had conquered. Femorn could show her.