With the main force inside Votradnoi doing "cleanup duty," only a contingent of Auxiliary Troops and a handful of regular soldiers remained at the Prince's Army camp two kilometers outside the city.
As a result, the camp, intended to house ten thousand men, was still barely taking shape. Even its basic framework had yet to go up.
Fortunately, as the ruler of a nation, Chris did enjoy a few privileges... At least his own command tent had been erected ahead of time, giving him somewhere to receive guests.
Chris thought his camp was rather spartan, but Gibson, the count's envoy, saw things differently. On his way to the Prince's tent, he witnessed the discipline and wealth of the Prince's Army.
Though unfinished, the camp's layout reflected rigorous military planning.
Simple but sturdy wooden palisades surrounded the camp, protecting the peace within. Its roads ran straight, and though dust rose from them, the soldiers' footsteps had packed them perfectly level.
As Gibson passed through, he could clearly see soldiers erecting barracks or moving supplies. Even without a general overseeing them, each went about his work in an orderly fashion, like components of a precision war machine that could maintain its most basic functions through momentum and cooperation even with a crucial part missing.
The soldiers he saw working along the way wore plain green uniforms, but in every group of ten, some carried finely crafted Flintlocks on their backs and simple shortswords at their waists.
The other five had no firearms, but the swords and sabers hanging at their waists all appeared to be made of fine steel.
Even more shocking to Gibson was a man from the Prince's Army who passed by leading a nag. He looked like an ordinary cook, yet even he wore sturdy leather boots, a thick