A few minutes later, the lethargic Lieutenant returned carrying a stack of ledgers. “They’re all in order,” he explained, setting them down on the grass before us. Vernie leafed through them, seeming nonchalant. As she turned the pages, she tapped her thumb and forefingers together regularly.

“Well?” I asked as she picked up the third book.

“Hold on.” Vernie looked up at Balor in confusion. “Your budget includes all the surveyors and inquisitors assigned to the Wastelands?”

“They’re all assigned to Fort Turri.” Balor nodded.

“Councilman Procul hasn’t increased funding for them, though,” Vernie continued. “Those roles didn’t exist before the Demon King’s fall.”

“Councilman Procul…” Sir Armand inhaled sharply. “...Has told us to make do with what we have, arguing that we have less to do since the demons have relocated to the Southern Wastelands.”

“Except it’s not true,” I interjected. “We encountered demons earlier where they shouldn’t be.”

“Yes, we have also run into the like, but Procul won’t listen. It’s hard to provide evidence to someone who doesn’t want to believe you.”

Probably doesn’t help that demons don’t exactly leave anything behind after being banished which could be shown as evidence.

I addressed my final question to everyone. “What do you think his real deal is? No matter how outlandish it sounds, what is his ultimate motivation, in your opinion?”

“He wants Turri to absorb the Wastelands.” Armand shrugged. “Goddess knows why. I can only see it as a debtor to him.”

“It doesn’t have resources to speak of,” Lieutenant Balor agreed. “But if it falls under his purview, then that’s one less future councilman to worry about.” It wasn’t necessarily his personal funds getting used to deny the Wastelands representation, either…

Relias, his brow glistening with sweat, slowly made his way over, supported by Aleph. “Allow me to propose that we head to the pavilion,” he declared, pointing at the finished structure. “I believe Captain Corwin is expecting us currently.”