I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 355 Medicines and Drinking Water
Because of Charles's presence, Golden Harvest City had a palace. Although it was temporary, converted from the local town hall, and somewhat cramped, it was still quite magnificent after being decorated with velvet and silk.

Tonight, the palace banquet hall is brightly lit and filled with melodious music.

The air was filled with the aroma of roasted meat, the rich fragrance of expensive perfumes, and the mellow scent of aged wine.

The crystal chandelier, hastily installed tonight, cast a dazzling light, illuminating the long table covered with a snow-white linen tablecloth, piled high with delicacies meticulously prepared by the army's chefs.

Roasted suckling pig, drizzled with honey and roasted to a golden brown and crispy perfection; piled high with roasted oysters; and fruits adorned with gold leaf, arranged in a colorful pyramid.

Waiters in sharp uniforms moved among the banquet guests, diligently refilling the wine cups of the elegantly dressed nobles, generals, and wealthy merchants accompanying the army.

King Charles Stuart sat regally in the main seat, a reserved and dignified smile on his face. He raised a gold cup inlaid with sapphires, his voice booming with the triumphant exhilaration of a victor.

"Gentlemen, let us raise our glasses!"

Charles's voice carried clearly through the noisy hall.

"Homage to the fearless Miniseyan warriors, to the loyal royal guard, and to the generous sea god."

Today, with courage and blood, we repelled the iron torrent of the Bagnian tyrant beneath the walls of Golden Harvest. We defended our homeland; we won victory! May the sea god protect Minicia!

May the sea god protect Minicia!

"Your Majesty the King!"

"To victory!"

A burst of enthusiastic cheers and responses erupted in the hall, and the clinking of glasses created a crisp sound.

The nobles' faces beamed with relief at surviving a calamity and euphoria over their "victory," while the generals wore a weary pride.

The atmosphere was lively and jubilant, as if the bloody battles and great sacrifices of the day had been washed away by the fine wine, delicious food, and hymns.

Charles smiled as he accepted the toasts and compliments from the crowd. He gracefully walked to the table, cut off a piece of tender roasted venison, and slowly chewed it, as if savoring the taste of victory.

He would occasionally whisper to an important person sitting next to him, accompanied by hearty laughter.

However, only those closest to him and most familiar with him—such as the chief eunuch behind him—could see that His Majesty's seemingly relaxed left hand resting on the armrest was clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning white from the force.

As the banquet reached its climax, musicians played lively dance music, and noblemen and ladies, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, entered the dance floor, their elegant attire and graceful movements creating a vibrant atmosphere.

Charles also stood up and invited an important countess to dance with him. His dance steps were still elegant and composed, and his smile was still charming.

As he spun around, his back to the busiest center of the hall, a figure silently approached the chief eunuch and whispered a few words.

The steward's face turned even paler. He hesitated for a moment, then, taking advantage of Charles turning around, he quickly stepped forward and whispered in the king's ear.

"Your Majesty... the quartermaster is outside, and his report is... not good. The sanctuary has completely run out of bandages, and they can't even find clean strips of cloth... 30% of the seriously wounded have already left... and several army doctors have deserted."

Charles paused almost imperceptibly in his dance steps, his smile froze for a moment, and then perfectly recovered as if it were a mask.

After dancing for a while, Charles took the opportunity to gently pat the Countess's hand to signal the end of the dance, then gracefully bowed, turned and left, walking to a wall where no one would disturb them.

"Manager."

Charles's voice was extremely low, only the steward could hear it, and it was a hoarse sound that he was trying hard to suppress.

"Tell the quartermaster to take apart all the linen, silk... even the curtains in my warehouse and send them over!"
Furthermore, send men… no, you go yourself! Take my guards and 'requisition' them from all the wealthy families in the city. Tell them these are warriors defending Golden Harvest City, and anyone who dares to obstruct them will be punished as a traitor!

"Yes... Your Majesty... But Your Highness, there are no wealthy merchants in Golden Harvest City?"

"Why not?"

“The Leterians have all been killed.”

Charles was speechless for a moment before regaining his composure.

"Where's the medicine? We can't buy any medicine?"

"We've bought all the medicine the merchants accompanying the army could afford; there are too many wounded soldiers, it's not enough... The remaining medicine is too expensive, we don't have enough money..."

The steward's voice grew softer and softer.

Charles felt a sharp headache coming on, and his temples throbbed.

That damned profiteer!
His treasury was already empty, and the royal army was three months behind on its pay. Where was he going to get the money to buy those unscrupulous merchants' overpriced medicine?

If he could, Charles would love to send soldiers to kill all those merchants who were deliberately raising prices... But he could only dream of such a thing, because nowadays, the guys who could serve as merchants accompanying the army were all front men for the great nobles.

“Your Majesty, an officer has reported that several soldiers who were lightly wounded today may have secretly run away from the wounded soldiers’ camp… This may affect the morale of the uninjured soldiers.”

Charles's body swayed almost imperceptibly.

"Strengthen patrols in the barracks! Anyone found undermining morale will be severely punished!"

Charles's voice was icy cold, with a hint of ruthlessness.

"Furthermore, have all the sea god priests go to the wounded soldiers' camps and military camps as much as possible, and tell them that the sea god is watching and testing his people!"

Hold on, reinforcements...reinforcements are almost here!

Charles himself was unsure when Seba would arrive or in what form, but for now, he needed this illusory hope to bolster the crumbling morale of his troops.

The steward accepted the order and hurriedly disappeared behind the heavy curtain at the side door.

Charles took a deep breath, forced the muscles in his face to relax, and put on his victorious smile again. He turned to face the people in the hall who were still immersed in the merriment, and raised his glass once more.

"Gentlemen, let us raise our glasses once more, to the immortal glory of Minicia, and to the imminent final victory that will completely drive out the invaders!"

"For victory!"

Cheers erupted once more, drowning out the silent lament of defeat and despair emanating from the massive Neptune Cathedral deep within the city, outside the palace.

Charles downed the drink in one gulp. The spicy liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't dispel the bitterness and heaviness in his heart.

For him, this lavish victory banquet was more like a performance on the edge of a cliff.

Beneath the glamorous exterior lies a healthcare system on the verge of collapse, plummeting morale, a strained budget, and deep-seated suspicions about the intentions of its allies.

……

The Bagnia Camp on the west side of the Rocky Heights stands in stark contrast to the bustling extravagance of Golden Harvest City.

There are no crystal chandeliers, no melodious dance music, only the crackling of campfires, the orderly footsteps of patrolling soldiers, the hammering of engineers working through the night, and the faint whispers from the distant wounded soldiers' camp, almost inaudible after being filtered by well-insulated tents.

Prince Chris's command tent was spacious and practical, with maps hanging on the inner walls of the canvas tent, and a huge sand table in the center that accurately simulated the rocky highlands and the surrounding terrain, with small flags representing the positions of various troops and the movements of the enemy.

Here, the air is filled with the mixed smell of A4 paper and ink, but there is no scent of perfume or fine wine.

Chris was facing away from the entrance, bending over to study the terrain southwest of Golden Harvest City on the sand table, his fingers lightly tapping the area representing the possible route of the Reteria army.

Now he has shed his daytime finery, wearing only a dark casual outfit, his brows slightly furrowed, his gaze focused.

The heavy curtain was lifted, and the clerk walked in silently.

As usual, he wore an impeccably clean and crisply starched clerk's uniform, his hair was neatly combed, his face was expressionless, and his eyes were as calm as a lake in late autumn. His steps were precise and silent, like a well-programmed machine.

He walked to a spot five steps away from Chris, stood still, put his hands at his sides, and bowed slightly in a gesture as precise as if measured with a ruler.

"Your Highness, routine military intelligence and logistical summary."

The clerk spoke, his voice steady and clear, without any inflection, each word as if it had been precisely cut out.

"The time is from 3 pm to 10 pm today."

"Speak," Chris said succinctly without turning around.

"Yes."

The clerk nodded slightly, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

"First, regarding troop deployment, the Second Army Group has completed the division of rest and recuperation areas and the initial defensive fortifications as planned. The defensive lines of chevaux-de-frise, barbed wire, and trenches have been completed."

The First Army Group has completed its rear guard mission and is now orderly moving into its pre-established positions in the southwest and northwest of the high ground.

The engineer battalion reported that the earthwork for the artillery positions on Rock Heights was 80% complete, and all the 16-pound siege heavy artillery pieces were expected to be deployed before midnight.

The rest and recuperation areas for the Han and Tang warrior battle groups and heavy cavalry have been established as isolation zones. The wounded soldiers' camp is operating normally, with 15 new wounded soldiers admitted and zero deaths.

Second, according to intelligence, the main vanguard cavalry force of the Leterian army, numbering about three thousand, has arrived and set up camp twelve kilometers southwest of the battlefield.

The subsequent mixed infantry and cavalry forces will slow down significantly, and the main force is expected to arrive at the battlefield between tomorrow afternoon and evening.

In Minicia, fortifications around the gates of Golden Harvest City are being reinforced, and no signs of large-scale troop movements have been observed. Thick smoke is rising from several locations within the city, suspected to be from the burning of corpses or debris.

Third, in terms of material reserves, there are sufficient reserves of food, ammunition, medicine, spare weapons and armor, engineering materials, fuel, etc., which can support the entire army in high-intensity combat for more than 15 days. The transportation lines are unobstructed, and the subsequent supply convoy is expected to arrive tomorrow morning.

The clerk's voice flowed smoothly and calmly, clearly presenting the operation of the massive army. Everything seemed orderly, with ample supplies and high morale.

Chris listened quietly, his face expressionless, until the clerk paused, at which point he turned around and asked a question.

"Do you have any other questions?"

The clerk's gaze remained fixed straight ahead, without the slightest deviation, and his tone remained as steady as ever.

"Yes, Your Highness, there is a critical resource shortage... fresh water."

Chris paused for a moment, "Dehydrated?"

No, the place I chose may not have a river, but it is a plain area with abundant rainfall. We only need to dig two to five meters underground to find water.

Even if there are special circumstances, such as a shallow aquifer with a large thickness, it's just a matter of digging a little deeper. Once you dig to ten meters, you're guaranteed to find water.

The situation reported by the clerk is clearly not a typical special circumstance.

"specific."

"The geology of the Panshi Highlands is mainly limestone, with a deep groundwater level and poor water storage capacity."

The clerk's voice sounded like he was reading a geological report.

"The engineering battalion has dug five deep wells, each ten meters deep, in the core area of ​​the camp, but the water output is far below expectations. Currently, the total daily water flow can only meet the minimum physiological needs of about 15,000 people."

He paused, then continued to state the cold reality in that emotionless voice.

"Currently, there are over 31,700 of our troops and civilian laborers stationed on the high ground. Even with a strict rationing system of three liters per person per day, the daily shortage is still as high as about 47,000 liters. The existing water storage vehicles and temporary water bags can only maintain the current ration level for about 30 hours."

A brief silence fell over the tent, broken only by the clerk's steady breathing.

Chris scratched his head. He didn't quite understand the clerk's report, but overall he understood what had happened... there was a problem with the military camp location he had chosen.

Chris walked to the edge of the sand table and pointed to the terrain around the Rocky Heights.

"The nearest stable water source?"

"The nearest water source to the camp is a tributary of the 'Green Creek River' at the foot of the mountain to the east, about three kilometers away as the crow flies, but..."

The clerk's voice remained flat and monotone.

"The river flows through a low-lying area and is located on the edge of the range of the Minesia city's artillery fire. Large-scale water collection operations are easily exposed and may be subject to artillery fire or harassment."

Furthermore, the journey to and from water collection is fraught with difficulties, time-consuming, and inefficient, making it difficult to meet the needs of a large army.

Chris tapped his fingers on the "Green Creek" spot on the sand table, his brow furrowing even more.

Going to the river to fetch water is too risky and inefficient.

"How is the rainwater collection going?"

"The engineering battalion has ordered all units to lay down waterproof tarpaulins to the maximum extent possible and to build simple water collection troughs, but the weather has been sunny recently and there is no forecast of precipitation."

The clerk's answer remained concise and objective.

"In addition, the dew is heavier at night in the highlands, and manpower can be organized to collect it, but the amount of water obtained is far from enough."

"A logistics convoy transporting water?"

"Additional water transport vehicles have been arranged, but the capacity is limited and long-distance transport results in significant losses, so it cannot be considered a primary solution."

The clerk paused, then added.

"Of the supply convoy expected to arrive tomorrow, fresh water accounts for only 20% of the regular transport volume, with priority given to ensuring core medical and kitchen needs."

The problem is clear: the well is not working, the river is too dangerous, the rain isn't falling, and transporting water is ineffective.

More than 30,000 people are on the verge of falling into a thirst crisis.

Chris scratched his head.

"Your Highness."

Seeing Chris's actions, the clerk made a suggestion.

"The existing wells are not producing enough water, so increasing the number of wells is pointless. I suggest using explosives to blast through the underground rock layers, and that way..."

"No need."

Chris waved his hand, declining the clerk's suggestion.

His plan was highly feasible, but it would require a large amount of gunpowder, more than ten hours of preparation time, and the risk of failure was not small.

Chris naively believed that if there wasn't enough water in reality, he could solve the problem from another world.

With that in mind, Chris opened an online shopping platform and spent half an hour asking various mineral water suppliers.

He then discovered that if he could purchase more than 100 tons of mineral water at once, he could get a discounted wholesale price of about 1,700 yuan per ton of pure drinking water.

Yes, the kind that comes in small bottles.

If you include large plastic bottles in the packaging, the price will be even cheaper, around 500 to 600 yuan per ton of mineral drinking water. If negotiations continue, the price can be negotiated further as long as the total purchase volume is large enough.

If it's bulk water without any packaging, the procurement cost can be reduced by more than 80%... When buying a bottle of water in a supermarket, the water inside the bottle is the cheapest thing, while the bottle itself is the most expensive.

As for water that doesn't meet drinking water standards... well, there's no need to look into it.

"I already have a solution for the water. Go down and have someone prepare to dig ten large water storage tanks, lined with waterproof tarpaulins. Call me when they are finished."

"Understood, Your Highness."

The clerk bowed again, then retreated from the tent with precise and silent steps, disappearing into the cool night of the high ground outside.

Chris watched the clerk leave, then reopened the shopping platform that only he could see, clicked a few times, paid a sum of money, and sighed with admiration.

"This cheating is a bit too much... It's a bit unfair to the enemy."

(End of this chapter)