Chapter 30: Aftermath
It had been twenty days since Crown Prince Alexius reclaimed the ruined capital city of Avarus.
The Imperial army, led by Der Gnadenlose, had fully retreated beyond the borders, completely liberating the Western Region of the Principality from its tyrannical reign, leaving devastating casualties in the Duchy during their retreat. However, the war continued to rage on.
Scattered remnants of the Duchy's loyalist vassals—those who still clung to the dead Duke's rebellion—remained entrenched in minor domains across the countryside.
To deal with them, Count Ares Avarus and Lieutenant Comwell had been dispatched with ten thousand elite soldiers of the Royal Army to mop up the remaining resistance and restore absolute order. With the West mostly neutralized, almost the entire Principality was back in the Crown's hands, although the East was another matter to solve.
Now, Alexius' focus was on the ruined capital of Avarus itself and the entire Principality.
Through exhaustive, day-and-night search efforts, Vane's Nightwatch and Aelrue's Venator Order had miraculously uncovered about three thousand civilian survivors hiding from the Imperial massacre in deep wine cellars, hidden smuggling tunnels, and collapsed basements, barely clinging to life. They were the lucky ones. The official casualty reports recorded twenty-five thousand civilians and 800, including household knights and servants of the Ducal houses, slaughtered by the retreating Imperial forces.
A devastating blow to the Principality. Nearly fifty thousand souls were lost in the war—close to ten percent of the entire population. For a great empire, such losses are tragic; for a small principality, they are catastrophic. A realm with limited manpower cannot afford such bleeding without long-term consequences. Every single fallen soldier, farmer, craftsman, and laborer counts.
Even though Arthenburg, the capital city of the Principality, continued to prosper with Alexius's innovations, prosperity in the capital could not conceal the suffering of the provinces. The North and the West had borne the heaviest burden.
The Northern Region, though damaged, remained structurally intact. Its towns still stood, and its population, though reduced, was sufficient for recovery. With careful reorganization and firm leadership, it could rebuild. Lupus was capable of overseeing this restoration. She possessed both the authority and the resources required. If matters of greater strategic importance arose, she could communicate directly through the capital without delay.
The West, however, was another matter entirely. Out of a total population of eighty thousand, more than twenty-five thousand had been lost. That was not simply damage—it was devastation. The entire capital city had been burned to the ground. Worse still, the conflict there had not fully ended. Instability persisted, and the administrative structure was strained under an acute shortage of capable officials and officers.
Alexius could not act recklessly. Nor could he afford hesitation.
Reconstruction in the West required direct intervention from the Crown. Financial support, manpower redistribution, and the appointment of competent administrators had to be executed swiftly and carefully. The region could not be left to recover on its own strength alone—it no longer had the strength.
That was why he was sitting in a makeshift command tent amidst the rubble, having relocated to directly participate in the reconstruction of the city. Alexius reviewed the parchment reports he had been studying tirelessly since his arrival. He sighed and stopped reviewing, looking up at the ceiling.
Twenty-five thousand dead, he thought, clenching his arms, which rested on the chair.
A profound tragedy. And from the perspective of a ruler… an unforgivable waste of human resources and potential. The sheer, pointless cruelty of the Empire would cost them dearly when the time came.
His dark thoughts were interrupted by the gentle placement of a warm cup of herbal tea on his desk.
"You are frowning again, Alex." Since the night of his mental breakdown, the invisible wall between the Crown Prince and the elven mage had completely dissolved. Aelrue had anchored him when he was drowning under the weight of his own aura, and because of that, they had grown closer than ever before. She now called him Alex, and the prince allowed it.
Before Alexius could thank her, the tent flap whipped open.
"Your Highness! I brought you some proper, energy-boosting roasted boar skewers!"
Standing at the entrance was Rosy Avarus, the fifteen-year-old daughter of Count Ares. Wearing a finely tailored crimson combat dress, she walked in with a silver platter. She was, by all human standards, breathtakingly beautiful—with fiery auburn hair and striking amber eyes. Known as the "Flower of the West," she possessed a fierce, vibrant beauty that had once been the envy of the main Duke's family.
Ever since Alexius had broken through the magical locks of Castel Nero to save her family, Rosy had fallen for him. It was love at first sight, though she would rather bite her own tongue than admit it directly.
"Miss Rosy," Aelrue said, her long elven ears twitching slightly in annoyance. "The Prince requires hydration and mental clarity, not heavy meats at this hour."
"H-hmph! A warrior needs meat to rebuild his strength!" Rosy retorted, her cheeks flushing a bright, defensive pink. "And it's not like I cooked these specifically for you, Your Highness! The camp cooks just made too much, and I didn't want it to go to waste. That's all!"
Aelrue sighed, a faint breeze of green wind mana swirling defensively around her fingertips. Rosy's amber eyes narrowed, and the air around her immediately grew hot as red sparks of fire mana crackled at her palms. At only fifteen, Rosy was already Rank 4 in the Mana Path, specializing in highly destructive Fire Magic—the absolute elemental opposite of Aelrue's Rank 5 Wind and Nature affinities.
"Ladies, please," Alexius intervened, rubbing his temples. "I will have both. Thank you, Rosy. And thank you, Aelrue."
Rosy puffed out her chest victoriously, shooting the elf a smug look before practically shoving the platter onto the desk. "Just make sure you eat it all! I'll be inspecting your plate later!" With a flurry of crimson fabric, she spun on her heel and marched out of the tent, her face completely red and smiling.
Alexius shook his head. It is giving me a headache. But I am not unhappy. They are a necessary light in these dark days.
Alexius smiled.
.................
With twenty-five thousand dead and the Imperial forces having burned the city's infrastructure to the ground, Avarus was suffering from a critical labor shortage. There were simply not enough hands to clear the rubble, bury the dead with dignity, and rebuild shelters for the three thousand survivors.
So, the Crown Prince himself and all the executives had to work, including Zemlya and Solon, in the reconstruction.
Every day, Alexius stripped off his heavy ceremonial black armor and changed into a simple linen tunic and leather trousers. He stepped out into the ash-covered streets. He walked directly into the wreckage with Aelrue and Vane.
Using his physical enhancements from his Rank 7 Sword Path and channeling his [Earth Magic], Alexius began lifting massive shattered stone pillars that would have required twenty men to move. He cleared blocked roadways, hauled debris, and worked side by side with the common infantrymen.
When the soldiers and the surviving militiamen saw their future Grand Prince hauling jagged stones, his hands blistered and his tunic stained with soot and sweat, their morale skyrocketed. Driven by his example, the men worked with tireless devotion.
On the fifth day of the grueling labor, a massive convoy arrived from the capital of Arthenburg.
"By the Ancestors' beards, lad, ye weren't kidding when ye said they made a right mess of the place!" a booming, gravelly voice echoed across the ruined courtyard.
Alexius dropped a load of shattered timber and wiped his brow, looking toward the source of the voice.
Standing there, hands on his wide hips, was Thorgar, the Chief Representative of the Dwarven Enclave. Behind him stood exactly one hundred dwarven master builders and two hundred human craftsmen armed with heavy runic hammers, measuring tools, and carts piled high with construction supplies and food.
"Thorgar," Alexius greeted, grasping the dwarf's thick forearm. "I'm glad you made the journey. We need hands. Every possible hand counts."
"Aye, and ye summoned 'em," Thorgar grunted, pulling a thick roll of blueprints from his back. He unrolled it on a flat slab of broken stone. "I got yer messages via the communication crystals. If we're rebuilding the Capital of the West, we ain't just putting back the old stones. We build it stronger. We build it dwarven."
Over the next week, the city of Avarus transformed from a completely ruined city into the largest construction site in the Principality. The hundred dwarves acted as foremen and structural engineers, directing the Royal Army soldiers and the capable survivors.
Thorgar and Alexius designed the structure of the city, and even Zemlya and Solon helped in construction with their Earth and Space magic to create building materials and move them to the construction sites. Vane also assisted in construction, while Aelrue, the Countess, Rosy, and her younger sister helped with cooking to feed the laborers. The Venator Order, Night Guards, Royal Guards, and the Royal Army rotated between patrolling the city and surrounding areas, guarding, and assisting in construction shifts.
They focused on the absolute essentials first. Massive, interconnected communal longhouses were erected using rapid-setting dwarven alchemical mortar to ensure the three thousand survivors had warm, draft-free shelter. Next, they rebuilt the aqueducts, with Alexius using [Water Magic] to flush the corrupted, ash-choked pipes and restore clean running water to the central districts.
The castle keep itself was heavily reinforced. The shattered outer walls of the city were redesigned. Thorgar introduced angled, star-fortress layouts designed specifically to easily destroy siege forces.
"Lift on three!" Thorgar roared over the din of clanging hammers and grinding stone. "One! Two! Three!"
Alexius, alongside fifty sweating soldiers, hauled on the thick iron chains. Slowly, a massive reinforced steel portcullis rose into place at the city's new eastern entrance—the main gate of the rebuilt city.
As the sun set three months after he had first arrived in the city, Alexius stood on the newly paved ramparts of the Avarus keep, overlooking the city. The scent of death and ash had finally been replaced by the smell of fresh-cut pine, hot forge fires, and baking bread. Though it had become smaller, it was fortified and more beautiful than ever before.
(Continue....)