《Apocalypse Reborn [GameLit 4X] [Fantasy] [Strategy]》


 Chapter 1

    Chapter 1:


    Blood, shit, and mud surrounded me.


    My fingers ached, my legs whined in protest even whilst still, and it took to effort to keep my eyes open.


    Crows and vultures circled the sky, pecked at corpses, and the sun beat down on me.


    The thought occurred to me to just lay down for a bit and rest, as my muscles ached, my bones cried, and my stomach sent out familiar cries of need. A strong, heady need like a sizzle that crept all the way up the roof of my mouth and strangled my throat.


    In times like these, I barely recalled my prior, better life. Everything that I once took for granted seemed like a fantasy.


    Until, of course, I heard some mud shifting due to footfalls and the ragged breaths of others.


    That got me off my ass and gripping my little hand-axe like a man possessed.


    ¡°This pile of scrap¡¯s mine!¡± My vision swam, but I didn¡¯t stumble. That would¡¯ve gotten me killed. Any sign of weakness would, because everyone here now was doing the same thing: looting what was left of the battle to get themselves fed. ¡°I haven¡¯t eaten in day. I saw you lot eat yesterday! If you come any closer, it¡¯s a hit straight to the skull!¡±


    My declaration was met with resistance and barely a move from the trespassers, because they were out to get what they wanted too.


    And, there were three of them.


    ¡°Y-you can¡¯t ¡®urt us all!¡± The leader was a seven year-old boy, just like me. That didn¡¯t matter. What did was that he was short. He had one eye bandaged over, his hair was slick with grease and matted against his skull, and his mouth was a mess of crooked and broken teeth. A Pulitzer-prize winning picture by any journalist who took it. In my past life, I would¡¯ve felt sorry for the kid. In this one, I felt emboldened, because he was smaller than me by a large margin and a bit weaker. ¡°Even if you are bigga!¡±


    I took a step forward and growled at them as best as I could manage.


    ¡°Try it, then! Come and try it! Let¡¯s see what happens!¡± I scanned for someone else and found them. Kids, especially kids in our circumstances, were clever, dangerous, and malicious pieces of shit. I scooped up a rock and threw it at the one sneaking at my left. He gave a cry of pain as the stone the size of my fist hit him square on the forehead. If he was unlucky, then that was the end of him. ¡°See, how about it!? You¡¯re already down one man!¡±


    If they were smart, they would¡¯ve charged me as I did that, but when plans failed while morale was already low¡­ the results were simple.


    They didn¡¯t waste their breath nor their time, once they were one man down against a stronger opponent.


    My fellow battlefield looters made a run for it, one picking up their friend who I¡¯d hit, and left me to my work.


    I looked around to make sure nothing was wrong and didn¡¯t let myself relax. I waited until the crows and vultures descended, until I got to work.


    They knew I wasn¡¯t interested in them, so they let me be.


    Especially since they knew the faster that I worked, the sooner they¡¯d get at the swelling, rotting corpses that I was tending to.


    From a life with air conditioning, electricity, and indoor plumbing to a world of swords, magic, and epic sagas to be woven.


    Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t some hero from another world delivered to save everyone from evil.


    I was just a brat popped out by a whore on a baggage train of a warband lucky enough not left to die by my mother, while my father didn¡¯t care.


    Or, so I thought for a few years, until my mother sold me off to the camp¡¯s quartermaster.


    Yep.


    Born.


    Nursed until I could walk.


    Then, sold off until I could pay my debt off to a cutthroat for a pittance.


    ¡°And, today, I¡¯m going to be free. Free to go die on my own terms.¡± I grumbled to myself, while attending to my task. Weapons and armor were looted by the soldiers themselves. I dealt with what they couldn¡¯t be bothered with. If I was lucky, I¡¯d find a padded gambeson, some boots, or maybe a few arrowheads. Most of the time, I pulled off clothing that I would have to wash clean, in a pot that I had to get water and wood for, and maybe sew together. ¡°Free to try and live, until ten years pass and the world gets utterly fucked.¡±


    Oh, right.


    This wasn¡¯t just a regular fantasy world in medieval limbo for the sake of satiating the egos of socially inept mouthbreathers, such as myself.


    It was a regular fantasy world stuck in medieval limbo because some morons back in my previous world wanted to roleplay as heroes, command armies, and feel a sense of accomplishment and achievement in their otherwise boring, unimportant lives in concrete jungles.


    Again, much like me.


    Yep, I was going to get killed in a game. A game where I¡¯ve sent hundreds of thousands to their deaths for the sake of overcoming challenges. Challenges that I wanted made as hard as possible to make myself as happy as possible.


    The bloated corpse I was tending to quivered a bit as I managed to pull its shirt off, then the stomach proceeded to burst. Black goop splashed onto my pants and boots, while guts spilled all over them.


    If there was anything in my stomach, I¡¯d have retched it out.


    Why couldn¡¯t I have been a normal nerd? One that was into power fantasies?


    Why were my favorite games real-time-strategies where I transformed people and nations into build-orders, figured out cost-effective troops combinations, and sent innumerable amounts of people to die?


    Why couldn¡¯t I have just played shitty, perverse games where guys easily get laid all the time?


    I dry heaved for a while, tears streaming from my eyes, but I managed to get myself under control and look over the body.


    They took the soldier¡¯s boots, but they forgot his belt.


    Score.


    Hooray for me.


    Not.


    Once upon a time, I could press some icons on a piece of glass and metal, then food would arrive at my door. My entire day would just be sitting down, clacking on some plastic, looking at moving pixels, and then I¡¯d go to sleep. I would give just about anything back to get my peaceful, modern, and boring life back.


    But that wasn¡¯t happening.


    I was looking at a decade before the campaign started and found out whether the world was going to survive or not.  I didn¡¯t know what I could do, so that wouldn¡¯t happen as a scavenger earning his freedom¡­ but I wasn¡¯t interested in dying again.


    Therefore, today, I was going to buy my freedom and join the warband to become the hero this world needs with my knowledge of future events, as well as my understanding of technologies and concepts beyond their understanding.


    Haha.


    No.


    I¡¯m going to run away to the ends of this world and hoping that the apocalypse kills me last.


    The sun listed a little from being straight above me, so I hastened my pace in scavenging for things to sell.


    Ten years can pass in a flash, especially in a world where traveling takes weeks or months at the shortest.


    ¡­


    Gerund was a fat, bald, and smelly quartermaster, but he kept his word, kept things tidy in the barracks, and sold everything we runts needed to survive at fair prices. In a baggage train filled with swindlers, gamblers, and whores who wanted to make money from trailing the warband, he was an oasis of reason. Not that he was a particularly nice person, but things were fair around him, despite the fact he bought kids and used them to make money.


    He didn¡¯t fuck the kids, but he wouldn¡¯t give them a meal, a cot, clothes, or tools if they couldn¡¯t pay.


    More importantly, though, he did free the kids who managed to pony up the money.


    Most kids managed to do it within a few years, getting out when they turned thirteen or fifteen, but it was too risky for me. Not only would I only have a few years to get out of the way, I¡¯d be taking all sorts of risks. Getting a cold is practically a death sentence as a half-starved orphan, and it¡¯s easy to get an even-worse infection picking at scraps in a battlefield. Not only that, but the older boys competed for the best loot, which could lead to broken bones and cuts¡­ which were also death sentences in this world.


    Healing magic existed.


    This world had plenty of magic and a lot of it was ludicrous.


    But for the trash living off the scraps of mercenary warbands selling themselves to the highest bidder?


    Magic might as well not exist, let alone healing magic.


    So, I did my best to get out quick.


    I kept out of the way of the bigger boys, put those younger or my age in line, and took measures to get everything I needed. The bigger boys knew what to do with their stuff, so I did the same as them when I could and paid them to teach me. They¡¯re the reason I knew how to sew, owned my own pot, and knew what not to do. Kowtowing and treating them like royalty felt bad, but it kept me safe, and I got some skills out of it, so I smiled, hunkered down, and grinded away.


    Grinded away, until I looked Gerund right at his greasy double-chin and received my freedom.


    ¡°Yah, dat¡¯s just about what ya need and a little more to earn ya freedom, boyo.¡± Some of his words slurred, and his teeth were yellowish or outright brown. His mouth stank and it drifted over to me from behind his desk, where he had an abacus, weights, and a ledger. A grisly smile formed on his face, which I didn¡¯t want to see nor smell, but I returned it anyway. ¡°Here¡¯s ya tag. What¡¯ll your name be?¡±


    He rifled through a drawer in his desk. The movements of his large arms rattled it and shook his entire wagon, as he shifted to get something from the floor. The tubby bastard managed it in a feat of grand physical prowess, thus showing me that he deserved to be morbidly obese while he profited from three dozen starving children.


    ¡°Jack, sir. Thank you very much.¡± I smiled at the gargantuan quartermaster. I smiled at everyone, if I found the chance. It reduced the chance of me getting mugged or taken advantage of, while earning me some sympathy now and again. I¡¯d lick the underside of a boot that stepped in shit, if it meant getting a pound of food. ¡°Thanks for having me!¡±


    Thank you for buying me as a kid and using me as a slave, charging me for every necessity, and charging me money for my freedom.


    Fuck you very much, I hope you have a stroke, choke on your own spit, and drown on land like every whale should.


    ¡°Ya be welcome, boyo. Gerund¡¯ll get it done.¡± The pewter nameplate was a person¡¯s identification. When I was delivered by a midwife, my mother received it along with the date of my birth and a number to keep track of me. A few officials hung around the camp to keep track of numbers, population, and other things to appropriately tax the warband¡¯s leader while they operated in the domain of the tyrant that hired them. My plate was sold to Gerund along with me, therefore he was technically my guardian. Now, he was using a hammer and chisel to put my name. A short name. No last name. That was me in this world. ¡°Here ya go, Jack.¡±


    I worked for four years and received a piece of metal with my name on it.


    This world sucked and I would be fine with it getting razed to the ground, if I wasn¡¯t in it.


    ¡°What¡¯ll ya have for the rest of ya coin, boyo?¡± Gerund asked and I already knew what to ask for, but before I spoke he laughed. ¡°Heh, it¡¯s fine. I might be old, but I still know.¡±


    He reached under his desk and took out a pouch.


    The pouch the rest of the money I had was for.


    ¡°Rations. Enough for a week. Two waterskins. Empty. Boots. A good knife.¡± Gerund took the rest of my pay and gave me the pouch. It was heavy, but I opened it just to check. The rotund man laughed as I made sure. ¡°Ya sure you wanna leave, boyo? Ya know how to read and do maths. Enough to be my assistant. I¡¯ll pay ya handsomely.¡±


    An offer to be a clerk to a slave-owning whale that bought children off their parents.


    I¡¯d rather choke on my own shit and die.


    ¡°No, thank you very much, but I want to see the world! It can¡¯t all be just fights and looting, right?¡± I gave Gerund a big, shiny smile. Yes, I¡¯m smart, but I¡¯m also just a kid. No give me something for free. Don¡¯t you see that unlike anyone else, my skin is clear, my teeth aren¡¯t messed up, and I have hair that isn¡¯t filled with lice and grease? I pulled out every loose tooth that I could the moment I could, cleaned myself up, and trimmed my own hair. Please, be nice to me, or stop talking to me and forcing me to act this way. ¡°I want to see the entire world, Quartermaster Gerund!¡±


    The accumulation of filth, rolls of fat, and rot lodged in a wagon and behind a desk laughed¡­ but my little ploy paid off, as he fetched something else and threw it my way.


    ¡°Well, ya can¡¯t go see the worl¡¯ without money, so take this, go ta the last town, and work for the blacksmith! He¡¯ll feed ya and pay ya, as long as ya make enough nails!¡± Gerund laughed and so did I, but I held onto the thing like a lifeline. Years of brownnosing and acting like a deluded kid paid off. I had a contact and a place to get money that didn¡¯t involve plunging my hands into corpses and boiling off human piss, blood, and shit from scavenged materials. ¡°Go and see the worl¡¯ for ya pal Gerund, ha-ha!¡±


    I was about to smile and tell him that I hoped that he¡¯d get stuck in his wagon and die when the worst, possible thing that could happen¡­ happened.


    A horn blew in the camp, which was followed by another, and then¡­ another.


    Three horns.


    Enemy attack.


    An enemy air attack.


    Right after I relinquished my shelter in Gerund¡¯s other wagons.


    For a second, I thought about asking him to go into them¡­ and then I realized that going in there with all I had was a ticket to getting it all stolen.


    I looked at the man¡¯s way. His normally drowsy eyes were sharp, while he leaned forward and took hold of the doors. Some of the things on the table were on the ground in his haste, with only his ledger secured.


    The man who raised me in this world, the tubby bastard who made me pay for every little meal I had and the shelter that I needed, began to close his doors before uttering his last words.


    ¡°Run, boyo. Run and hide!¡±


    I knew it was my only option, given the camp¡¯s nature, but I hated hearing it especially since it was accompanied by the shuttering of wooden doors that could¡¯ve kept me safe.


    Jeez, thanks for stating the obvious.


    My first day of freedom¡­ and the place I was born and raised in was going to be attacked.


    My luck was totally abysmal, as expected.


    I got ready to run, but only after I picked up the scale, the hammer, and the chisel off the ground.


    If I had any future after this, I had to be an absolute kleptomaniac.


    But that was after I survived the attack.


    ¡­


    If you were lucky, whoever was attacking you would only do so on flying horses covered in armor.


    In the game, there were three types of aerial cavalry. The first and lightest were just horses that had wings and could instinctively fly with magic. They were common, quick attackers that you could hold off against with masses of pike and shot just fine. They were sent in to clog up the enemy¡¯s main force, flank already-entangled infantry, or pick off poorly-guarded artillery.


    A waste of resources and a mid-tier unit at best. Only masochists with massive egos used them to win, and they had to cultivate a strong empire with ludicrous amounts of money to mass enough of them to be worth it.


    In a reality where tactics and doctrines have used them since time immemorial, they were a terrifying against any force that couldn¡¯t be always on guard against them.


    Which was nearly everyone.


    ¡°Eyes up! They¡¯re coming!¡±


    ¡°Where are the pikes!?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve sent a runner to the war camp, but they¡¯re still marshalling!¡±


    ¡°Dammit, then get the wagons in a circle try to scare them off!¡±


    Armored knights were the tanks of medieval times. Kings and other owners of territory used them to crush dissenters who couldn¡¯t afford war horses and enough armor to make farming equipment worthless. A few dozen knights could run down a mob with ease. That mob¡¯s only chance was to set up barricades in their mud-hut village and hope that whatever they made would last¡­ and the knights would just run by and set their thatch roofs aflame, or their retainers and men-at-arms would come forth to settled things on foot.


    Now, give those warriors the ability to cover immense amounts of land in minutes, the ability to just leap over barricades, and let them retain all their durability.


    Against professional military trained to handle them with masses of crossbows and pikes, they were doomed light cavalry best used to other ends.


    In game, like I said, that was being fodder, being a distraction, or maybe picking off some stupidly-placed artillery.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Here and now, to presumably great effect, they were used to harass the supply chains of the army and kill it indirectly.


    Man, I would¡¯ve loved to have that option back when I was playing the game.


    Now, though, I would¡¯ve loved it if this world fucked off, was as stupid, and could be as one-dimensional as the game.


    Wagons were moved, tents were abandoned, and the smattering of guards in the train requisitioned what they could. People were handed light crossbows and called to act even with a just farming tools and torches, as the beating of massive wings resounded in the air. It was a well-rehearsed act, as they¡¯ve gone through making hasty fortifications before, but something was different this time.


    The number of wings beating in the air.


    Normally, raiding forces would be nearly a dozen at most. They¡¯d harass, pick people off the outskirts, and generally stay clear of the assembly of wagons and angry people armed with whatever they could carry. Barbed wire and trenches would be of little use here, since they could fly, but with a big enough mob and a closed enough space even flying knights could die.


    Normally.


    But things weren¡¯t normal.


    I looked into the sky and did a quick count on the number of approaching, armored aerial cavalry and realized that it was a full unit coming at us.


    Two dozen heavily armed and armored flying murdermachines were about to descend on the camp.


    My initial play was to run into the hasty shelter being built, which was going to be filled with people ready to fight for their lives.


    It turned out that just continuing to run, like Gerund suggested was the right choice.


    For a moment, I thought about not running, but my body chose for me and I slipped through the gaps of the closing circle and ran.


    This wasn¡¯t a simple raid like all the others.


    This was a refugee train hunkering down about to be absolutely fucked by a cavalry charge.


    There was no winning in it.


    So, I ran while people cried out behind me.


    ¡°They¡¯re here! Braces yourselves¡±


    ¡°Get behind cover! Stand together!¡±


    ¡°Fight for your lives! Fight for your families!¡±


    Their cries were voice lines straight out of the game for the ¡°refugee caravan¡± unit that had to be guarded through passes, valleys, and empty plains. I¡¯d heard those people die repeatedly to my enemies, so I forced my legs to take me away as fast as I possibly could. They sounded capable now, but the moment they made contact with the enemy, then things were going to change¡ª


    A loud trumpet blast from above suddenly resounded and I almost tripped and fell, as I recognized it too.


    It was followed by another, then another, and another¡­ and finally the armored, flying horses began to descend.


    Horn of Empowerment.


    It was an annoying activated skill, because it blared through the entire battlefield upon use. Mods were dedicated to lowering its volume in single-player, while the developers insisted it was important because in multiplayer it was important both sides knew when it was active. Assholes all over the world massed aerial light cavalry for matches and blared them into their opponents¡¯ ears until the devs lowered the volume.


    I was one of them, so the sound was engraved into my ears.


    So, I knew exactly what was coming.


    Red light shrouded the flying figures, and their already quick descent hastened. The Horn of Empowerment doubled a unit¡¯s armor, increased their charge damage by twenty percent, and gave them health regeneration for a minute. Its cost was that it lowered total health by twenty percent for the rest of the battle. In large-scale battles, it was a good way to make your aerial cavalry into living missiles and take out a single target that cost more than they did.


    Here, without anything to punish the charge present, it was a way to kill everything and everyone in an instant.


    And they did.


    Nearly thirty, living comets smashed into the wagon ring as one. Wood, canvas, and wheels came apart against armored, speeding horses. Lances didn¡¯t just pierce through people, but tore them apart entirely, throwing limbs, viscera, and heads in the air. People unlucky enough to be caught by the wagon-shattering charges of the horses themselves came apart as bloody chunks. People sprayed across the field, some no larger than a fist, as the charge¡¯s momentum carried them through one side of the wagon circle and out the other¡­ creating a path of destruction in their wake as they took to the air an instant later.


    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh, even as my lungs ached.


    ¡°Extreme difficulty! Of course! Why wouldn¡¯t it be!?¡± In the game, charging units had to be micro-managed so that they wouldn¡¯t get entrenched. It involved setting up waypoints, paying attention right when the charge ended, and giving them the right order at the right time. In ranked matches, if you couldn¡¯t manage to pull out your cavalry at the end of their charge, so that their cooldown reset and they could charge again¡­ you¡¯re told you shouldn¡¯t play ranked. In the campaign, the AI was only allowed to be the micro-god that it was on the ¡°Extreme¡± difficult level. Seeing the tactic pulled off perfectly here and now duly informed me that I was fucked. ¡°Dammit!¡±


    My legs strained as I carried myself and little more than thirty pounds on my back. I¡¯d complained about shit stamina systems in dozens of games, but those guys maxed out at a hundred pounds and could run again after a breather.


    Me?


    In my scrawny, shitty, eight-year-old orphan of a body?


    I could barely breathe.


    My lungs burned, my legs cried, and every part of me ached.


    But I ran.


    I knew that there was no choice, as the horns blew once again.


    However¡­


    Yet¡­


    Even as I forced myself to run¡­


    I knew that it was worthless.


    If the difficulty was set that high, then there was absolutely no way that the cavalry was alone.


    It was bait for the force ahead to pursue, so that they could be flanked by another force hidden away.


    Hidden away in a grove, a forest, or¡­ a hill just like the one I was cresting.


    My legs took me up the crest of the small hill we¡¯d passed just days ago and in an instant the clatter of hooves reached my ears and a spear¡¯s tip was at my neck.


    A mounted warrior looked at me and behind him were dozens of others mounted on horses. But they weren¡¯t light cavalry. I found exactly what I expected. The AI¡¯s preferred harassment force in the game in extreme difficulty. A cavalry commander with three supporting mages and dozens of mounted archers. A highly compact, if expensive force, that could dish out damage and retreat with ease after provoking an attacking with the aerial cavalry. The aerial cavalry dealt damage, the enemy pursued, and they were hit by mounted archers and bombarded by magic.


    The Tier One Skill Check that severely punished just throwing heavy infantry at problems until they died.


    To beat this without losing in terms of cost-effectiveness, I needed the same force, understanding of the AI¡¯s patterns, and micro to split my troops with as little losses as possible. Then, I¡¯d need to have the right NPCs in the right administrative positions in my territory, so the losses could be replaced via supplies and money.


    I didn¡¯t have that.


    I had a pouch of food and shit to sell, as well as an eight-year old¡¯s malnourished frame.


    So, I considered my options.


    But I needn¡¯t have bothered.


    The one that levelled his spear at me brought it up quickly¡­ and the blunt end rushed forward towards my head.


    There was a flash of pain, a moment where I looked straight up into the blue sky, and then nothing.


    As far as deaths went, I thought it was a pretty painless one.


    Until I woke up with a fierce headache, bound up, and on the back of a horse.


    Great.


    After earning my freedom, I got myself captured by another warband.


    ¡­


    In the inside, I lamented the fact that I got fucked over the moment I managed to find a semblance of a chance at survival.


    On the outside, I was all smiles despite my throbbing headache, the blood on my face, and the aches across my body from being luggage on the back of a horse.


    It was time to start again and I wasn¡¯t going to fuck it up.


    ¡°Name?¡±


    ¡°Jack, sir.¡±


    ¡°Job?¡±


    ¡°Scavenger, sir.¡±


    ¡°Are you free?¡±


    ¡°I earned my plate today, sir.¡±


    My captors brought me back to their camp, which was half-a-day¡¯s ride away from my former position. Bumping up and down on the back of a horse, while trussed up like a hog, gave me bruises and aches across my body. However, I made sure to sit upright and talk properly to this warband¡¯s quartermaster.


    A baggage train¡¯s quartermaster was in charge of civilians, while a warband¡¯s took care of supplies for the soldiers themselves.


    Warbands, especially mercenary ones, operated on very lean budgets. Everyone here risked their lives for coin. They were already willing to kill for coin, so whoever oversaw them needed to make sure everything ran smoothly or problems arose. Generally speaking, in the game, not having enough to pay your armor automatically meant your army turning into brigands and keeping their stats. Losing a highly-experienced stack of doom-bringing super units was worse than having another front opened on you.


    This warband¡¯s quartermaster was a wrinkled old man with a monocle and trembling hands with skin the color of darkened leather. Despite his age, his brown eyes were sharp and he considered me carefully, while I sat in front of him. He had an assistant ready to write in his ledger, but his trembling hands tended to things that required less fine motor control.


    ¡°What¡¯s in here?¡±


    He gestured at my pouch, which was closed, but had a different knot closing it.


    It was probably a test if I would be truthful.


    Since it was opened and had a different knot at the end, I couldn¡¯t tell him what was inside, though.


    So, I told him the truth.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s been opened and closed by another person, sir.¡± I did my best to sound meek. Acting clever might make me out as a spy. It was for the best that I didn¡¯t act like a possible threat. ¡°But, when I opened it last, it had food, a scale, a hammer, a chisel, boots, waterskins, and a knife.¡±


    ¡°A pack for a long journey¡­ save for the hammer, chisel, and scale. Are you a thief, boy?¡± The tanned man turned his gaze on me and ran a shaking hand through his pure-white beard. The top of his head was covered by a hat, but given how difficult it was to clean oneself in this world, it was likely that he was bald for the sake of convenience. ¡°These three things are worth more than any a mere scavenger your age could pay.¡±


    It might seem crazy, but the scale, hammer, and chisel were all trade tools here. It was like stealing a cash register or welding equipment from a shop. They were expensive things that merchants would contact authorities to recover because they were practical assets.


    Lying was a terrible idea, but I didn¡¯t hesitate to make my actions sound better.


    ¡°They fell onto the ground when the warnings came. I took them, because they are valuable and would help feed me, sir.¡±


    ¡°By the laws of this land, thieves lose hands and feet for every object they steal, boy. How do you feel about losing two hands and a foot?¡±


    I answered honestly at the intimidating question.


    ¡°I would die if I lost them, sir, so I will do what you ask of me.¡±


    Brown eyes bore down upon me for a second, trying to find something, but I met them head on.


    Surprisingly, the warband¡¯s quartermaster let loose a shuddering breath and leaned back to fall on his chair.


    ¡°This war has gone so long that most of the new generation feel no fear.¡± The man mused, before shaking his head and looking his assistant¡¯s way. ¡°Send word that we¡¯ve found a child with a decent head on his shoulders. Talk to the scouts and hunters, and maybe a few of our knights. This one¡¯s keen and cunning enough to be of use¡­ and we¡¯ll use him until he pays for this scale, hammer, and chisel.¡±


    He took the items he mentioned out of my back, before giving me the rest.


    Surprisingly, the rest of my things were there.


    ¡°Those you have paid for and are yours. The rest you will work off under our banner, child.¡±


    Huh, I guess it was theirs by right of conquest and I should be glad that they were willing to let me work for it to live.


    Not.


    These fucking bastards were high off their own supply.


    What kind of thought process lets you convince yourself putting a kid into debt is worth patting your back over? None of this was remotely close to fair and they were taking me as a slave. Even if I didn¡¯t have the scale, hammer, and chisel, they¡¯ll probably have me work for the rest of my belongings instead! Without a doubt, these guys should find the nearest, shallow pool of piss and shit and drown themselves!


    I kept a smile on my face and my body relaxed, as I raged inside and replied as evenly as I could.


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Someday, somehow, I was going to get myself a home in the middle of nowhere.


    Then, I¡¯ll watch the entire world burn, before the apocalypse takes me.


    No matter what, I¡¯m going to die long after all these fuckers.


    Sure, there were better, quicker ways to avenge myself¡­ but I wasn¡¯t willing to take those risks. I¡¯ll just pretend that I¡¯m pissing on their graves when I hear news about their country getting destroyed by the apocalypse.


    So, I waited patiently in the tent with the Quartermaster of this camp, until someone came along that would make use of me.


    Only for someone to enter the tent and ruin that possibility completely.


    In the game, there were three types of units.


    General, Elite, and Champion.


    General units didn¡¯t have names. They were the models in whole divisions of infantry, cavalry, artillery, or anything else. Some of them were better than the rest, but in the end they were just units that died or killed for you. If you did well, they¡¯ll gain experience and veterancy, which makes them more effective.


    Then, you fuck up and get them all killed somehow, and just write them off since the last auto-save was ten minutes ago.


    Not worth ten minutes of trouble.


    Elites units were off-brand versions of the special units. The bargain brand version of the real thing. Random name, basic skill tree, and maybe some randomization to make them look a bit different on the field and in character portraits. However, Elites are actual people on the game. One of them can be reasonably expected to tear through basic infantry divisions without dying, if they were utilized properly, trained well, and invested into.


    If they die, you¡¯ll restart the whole battle from the start, and you¡¯ll look up how to properly use and invest in them.


    Worth about an hour of trouble.


    Champion units are the main characters of the story. If they die, your campaign is over, and you start from the beginning. Everything about your entire game revolves around getting your Special unit from point A to point B, while killing everyone else¡¯s. They¡¯re the cornerstones of entire nations, they had more special abilities and they didn¡¯t share them, and if properly used, outfitted, and trained, they could win entire battles on their own.


    If they die, you¡¯re bad and you should feel bad, because they¡¯ll only lose if you make a mistake.


    Restart the game, loser.


    Why am I saying all of this?


    What¡¯s the point?


    Obviously, of course, it was the fact that I was staring at the very worst, absolute bottom-tier Champion Unit in the entire game.


    Riegert of the Holy Axe, or in the forums: ¡°XP Dumpster.¡±


    His growth rates were so bad that everyone has a meme screenshot of him getting minimum stat upgrades for every single level. Not only that, but his Perk Tree was centered all around increasing morale of Tier 1 Units in the early game, then getting free Tier 1 Units in the mid game, and then reducing their upkeep costs in Tier 1. Those were his best Perks, because the rest of them were utter shit, even with the best equipment slapped onto his limited slots they were shit compared to specialists in their field who had better multipliers for that equipment.


    He¡¯ll lose every match against fellow Special Units because his personal combat perks were garbage, and the Tier 1, low cost, and unbreaking warband he leads effectively can get rolled over by a Doomstack with enough DPS. If you put in him charge of a decent, endgame army, then the enemy just needs to put a Champion with actual, good Perks that buff their own half-decent army, and he loses.


    Riegert?


    More like ¡°regret.¡±


    Yeah, I¡¯m clever, hurr-durr.


    ¡°Isaac, I heard you found someone from the warband we were chasing?¡± Riegert entered the room, but even with my knowledge of how he¡¯ll eat shit and die in few years, I made myself look small. Even if he was the absolute worst of the tier, he was still a Champion Unit. That meant the bearded, red-haired mountain of a man I was looking at could take on whole divisions of soldiers. Three at the least. He¡¯ll kill around 150-200 men even without micro or luck, before he croaked in a fight. ¡°A survivor from the baggage train?¡±


    The Quartermaster, just a few moments from condemning me to another life of servitude right after my last, nodded at Riegert instantly.


    ¡°This child right here. He¡¯s a smart one. Knew to steal and take all he could, while running away. I¡¯d planned on putting him to work to earn his stolen goods.¡±


    ¡°He can pay it off more easily by telling me what he knows.¡± Riegert¡¯s footfalls shook the ground. In a medieval world where most people were malnourished, the Champion Unit was a beast that wouldn¡¯t look out of place at a World¡¯s Strongest Man competition. One of his biceps were bigger than my head and his head was just a foot away from the tent¡¯s roof. Almost seven feet tall and at least three hundred pounds in muscle, even before counting all the armor he wore. ¡°How does that sound, kid?¡±


    On one hand, prolonged servitude for how many years, versus working with a Champion Unit for a shorter amount of time.


    Given the fact that spending too long around Riegert meant risking death, because he sure as hell would never be able to win, I chose the later.


    ¡°That sounds good, sir! I¡¯ll tell you everything that I know!¡± I beamed at him and did my best to look eager. Riegert shared the smile and his hand descended on my head. It was a pretty nice move to make for an orphaned kid, but I had a hard time standing as a hand that could squish my skull with ease wrapped around it. ¡°I¡¯m a good listener!¡±


    ¡°Ha-ha, that¡¯s good. You and I will work together well, then.¡± It was hard acting like an eager kid. Smiling so much was wearing on my nerves, but the Champion Unit seemed like he was taking a liking to me. I chalked the cost up as worth it for that alone. ¡°Get your things and follow me.¡±


    He turned around to leave, and I moved to follow.


    Then, the Quartermaster spoke.


    ¡°Take these with you, kid. If you¡¯re following him around, you¡¯re going to need everything you can get.¡±


    For a second, I didn¡¯t realize what the guy meant, until my blood ran cold.


    The mission system wasn¡¯t disabled, and its shitty random events were going to play out!


    FUCK.


    Can¡¯t I get a break!?


    ¡­


    The mission system was downloadable content that most people with two braincells turned off, unless they were playing around. It was developed by a third-party, on a shoe-string budget, and basically ruined games. Sure, the missions had good lore, but I could read a codex for that stuff, just go on the wiki, or throw up a video on the second monitor. It had good lore, but the fact remained that the DLC basically made NOT MOVING the most optimal strategy for a turn-based strategy game.


    Because, the game mechanic it added was that if a Champion Unit didn¡¯t encounter an enemy, it would receive a random quest based on the region that it was occupying.


    People would literally just sit their Champion Units on a space on the overworld, then they¡¯ll press Turn End, refuse the bad quests, and find the good ones for prime Equipment, extra Perks, and even new Champion Units.


    It was a bullshit system, and I was glad that it wasn¡¯t allowed in Ranked.


    Anyone who asked for it to be included in Ranked, even in third party Ranked, needs to be escorted to the nearest nursing home.


    With a brain like that, they need someone to wipe their asses for them, let alone function as a human being.


    Of course, since it was vaguely realistic, it functioned in this world and was probably throwing shit out of whack.


    I needed to get off this continent more quickly than I thought, because most of the rewards for the mission system was broken as hell.


    What?


    How do I know that?


    I played with it on for shits and giggles when I wanted to relax, of course. Afterall, since I bought all the DLCs, I was going to use all the DLCs.


    But back to the problem at hand.


    Riegert had his own section of the camp. It was cleaner and sequestered from the rest, as expected of a commander¡¯s position, but there was more to it than that. There were servants present that worked out of large wagons that carried prime supplies for the officers. Fresh meat, fruit, and mistresses were present, instead of salted supplies and whores.


    They had cooks working in an open-air kitchen with a brick stove and firepit, with barrels of wine and bear readily accessed, and everyone present looked like they were out on a glamourous, renaissance festival trip, rather than a warband.


    Riegert walked past it all and walked into the commander¡¯s tent with me in tow.


    There were a bunch of older individuals in the tent, working beneath glowing orbs of light that were magical and beyond my ability to ever have, but only one didn¡¯t bow in his presence.


    ¡°Ghor, I¡¯ve located a survivor of the cavalry charge. It¡¯s a child. One of the scrappers that recently freed himself after a few years of servitude.¡±


    Jeez, he really played down the fact that I worked the moment I could walk.


    ¡°H-hello! That¡¯s me. I¡¯ll tell you everything I know!¡± I did my best to smile, even as I glanced over the entire tent. There were a lot of tables with maps and some messengers on standby just waiting to run and deliver things. However, all the older officers were gathered around the massive map on a table at the center of the tent. The massive parchment map was the size of queen mattress and the figures, landmarks, and roads on it¡­ were all simplified but recognizable


    It was the overworld when in the ¡°Stylized¡± mode.


    All ink blots, names, and vague descriptions, but it made online play less like a laggy dumpster fire so everyone played with it on.


    My throat constricted and I couldn¡¯t help but stare at it.


    Ghor noticed.


    ¡°Scrapper, you say. Well, it does seem that the child has a knack for spotting treasure. One look at the map and he¡¯s keen on keeping it for himself.¡± Ghor laughed and so did many of the other officers present. He was missing an eye and covered it with a patch, while his skin was tanned and leatherlike. Despite his age though, he filled out his uniform with wiry muscle rather than fat. ¡°I think this child has a lot to say, but its best if you keep your pockets out of his reach.¡±


    Another round of chuckles filled the room, as Riegert took a slight step to the side.


    Ghor nodded at the sight and I instinctively stepped forward across the large map from him.


    ¡°Do you know how to read maps, boy?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I wanted to travel far away and see everything I could, so I did my best.¡± I gave my prepared and rehearsed speech on the subject. Not that they¡¯d believe me if I told them the truth. Of course, I can read this magical map. I spent thousands of hours looking at it and navigating with the arrow keys. Wait, why are you bringing out the pitchforks? ¡°Ummm, this map is looking east of us right now. We¡¯re a bit to the left!¡±


    ¡°Correct. Good eye. I daresay that you might just do as you¡¯ve dreamed boy. The gods know we have need of more cartographers.¡± Ghor nodded and so did much of his staff. The retinue hadn¡¯t paid me much attention, but being able to read the map managed to get a lot of eyes on me. Hopefully, it was good attention and not the kind that I¡¯ll find myself on the run for murder for. If any one here tries to fuck me, I¡¯m killing them and running with the consequences. ¡°Here we are and here is where your former warband was destroyed.¡±


    A few waves of the hand over the map switched it over to us.


    The Talon Hills was one of the starting areas of the game. It had fifteen sites for encampments and towns, as well as three random spots for spawning a citadel. Usually, there were five encampments and towns at the start, which could be conquered while you pass through for taxes and increased unit cap. The encampments could be upgraded to fortresses with training camps designed contribute to specific technology trees, while the towns could be upgraded to cities for increased supplies and revenue. The citadel was the region¡¯s strongest point and you were only allowed to siege it after weakening it. You did that by taking over most of the encampments and towns in the region.


    In the endgame, a region with maxed out fortresses and cities surrounding a fully-upgraded citadel was practically unassailable.


    In the early game, just as I expected, the Talon Hills region was barely developed.


    Three towns, two encampments, and the citadel wasn¡¯t in effect since it wasn¡¯t conquered by faction¡¯s Champion Unit yet.


    All of that was known to me in glance, thanks to thousands and thousands of hours of play, but I didn¡¯t expect those hours to be the answer to Ghor¡¯s question.


    ¡°We found this on the Warband leader¡¯s corpse.¡± My heart stilled at what was in the old man¡¯s tanned hand. ¡°It is the key to an ancient, keystone castle hidden somewhere in this land. Whoever finds it will be able to take this frontier as their own¡­ and if you aid us in this project, child, you will have more than you¡¯ve ever dreamed of your entire life.¡±


    On one hand, Talon Hills was a great starting area and giving it to a faction that had Riegert as a Champion Units was consigning it to death in the far future.


    On the other hand, I didn¡¯t need to be here in the future and I needed money.


    So, I gave a nod and pointed at the map in three places, starting with the closest and ending with the farthest.


    ¡°The maps of the warband pointed to here, here, and here. That¡¯s where we were going for something special.¡± I lied about knowing anything about the warband¡¯s plans. I didn¡¯t know jack-shit about that, but that didn¡¯t matter. A frenzy of whispers and talks arose around the table instantly. I was set to be drowned out, but I did my best to yell. ¡°Mister Ghor, sir, if you find something¡­ can my prize be a wagon and supplies?¡±


    For a second, as Ghor¡¯s stare bore on me, I thought that I¡¯d asked for too much and that they¡¯d kill a kid that they didn¡¯t need to pay in the first place.


    Then, my heart dropped into my stomach.


    ¡°Boy, I am Ghor of the House Karnow and no lie leaves mine lips; should any of these places contain the ancient fortress we seek, I will make you a retainer of my own house and you shall want for nothing!¡±


    My knees shook and before I could regather my strength, I almost fell back.


    I couldn¡¯t refuse the offer.


    It was really beyond my wildest dreams to be elevated to retainer of nobility. Not only was it a massive advantage to have, but refusing it would be a slap to the face of a giant I couldn¡¯t hope to piss off.


    But, still, I couldn¡¯t help but almost fall on my ass.


    I was entwined in the worst starting spot, with the worst Champion unit, and with the worst Faction.


    If I don¡¯t put together an exit strategy, forget ten years, I¡¯m not going to make it five.


    These guys have twenty seasons/turns at best before they get rolled over and conquered!


    A/N:


    Hello, I''m Sage Of Eyes. This is one of my first original works and the first to be posted here on Royal Road.


    I''ll be posting a chapter everyday here on RoyalRoad, until all chapters from all four currently published volumes are present.

 Chapter 2:

    Chapter 2:


    ?


    For a normal, orphan scavenger, the change in environment I experienced would''ve been earth shattering.


    I went from being a nobody that could be killed without a thought to a retainer of a warband''s leader.


    Ghor of House Khanrow was swift to reward me for the vital information that I provided.


    Instead of the wagon and supplies I''d asked for, I found myself included in the general environment of the command structure. That meant a tent erected by the servants in the well-to-do area of the warband. I received my own cot, new clothes, and a chest to put my belongings in. With a word, the matter of me being reintroduced to servitude was dropped, and the things I stole were taken and turned to coin.


    I took a bath, had a meal with cuts of meat that wasn''t offal, and got dressed in clothes that weren''t made of burlap and scraps of leather.


    Then, I had a night of sleep, and got woken up to be placed with all my belongings in a wagon instead of having to trudge on foot.


    I''m sure that a real orphan of this world, in my place, would''ve done everything for Ghor of House Khanrow after one night.


    Meanwhile, I would''ve tucked tail and ran in the middle of the night with all that I could, if Riegert hadn''t been on the same cart as me.


    All this wealth was a trap.


    I''d rather live harshly for long time than for a good, short time.


    "Morning, kid. Hardly recognized you all cleaned up!" The scarlet haired and bearded man gave my head a quick tussle. Most of his armor was off, leaving his arms only covered by a green tunic, but he still had hardy boots, a chest plate, and a sword at his side. My small chest full of my belongings was beside his own luggage¡­ and another''s. "You should''ve seen him last night, Ilych. He was like you after a tumble or two in the mud!"


    "I see." Ilych didn''t really speak. Her words were more like confirmation. A direct statement of what she did. Like Riegert, she had green eyes and pale skin, but her hair was closer to black. Much like her father, she was lightly armored with a chest plate, hardy boots, and a sword. For a second, I was ready to just disregard her existence as an Elite unit. Then, I felt a cold chill go down my spine and I froze in my seat. "You said he is a scavenger, but he can sense danger."


    She just imagined killing me.


    I didn''t know how I knew, but I just knew!


    My heart was racing in my chest, every muscle I had felt ready to send me running away, and it took everything I had not to leap out of the carriage and run.


    Thankfully, despite being a waste to invest XP into, Riegert put his hand between me and his teenage daughter''s gaze.


    "Ilych, I swear you never learn. You scared the kid to death." Riegert didn''t admonish his kid. He just chastised her. I didn''t expect him to stand up to his child for me, yelling right in her face, but it was still less than I expected. That was, until Ilych''s brow scrunched and she nodded. She looked outright apologetic with just those words alone. "Good. Now, I want you to apologize. I want the two of you to get along. Ghor wants to keep Jack around, and we''re his retainers, so Jack''s under our protection. I''ll be busy when we get to where we''re going, so I want you to look after him."


    "I understand." Ilych spoke and I felt something in my gut tell me that there was something off with the girl. Riegert didn''t talk to her like a teenager around fifteen or sixteen. He addressed her like an equal, like someone as old as him, and she responded with the same maturity. I shifted away when she looked at me, but she didn''t stop staring at me until I met her gaze again. She bowed her head a second later and spoke with the same dullness. "I apologize. Allow me to guard you without issue, please."


    Usually, this is the part where I pretend to be a nice little kid who didn''t know any better, but a voice in the back of my head told me that I should lie.


    "I don''t want you to."


    "I will do as my father told me."


    Riegert stared at me for a moment, the temptation to plead with me appearing for a moment on his face, before he let loose a sigh.


    "Stick with one another for now, Jack. All the clues we''ve been following have told us where we''re going will make heavy fighting necessary." That was an overstatement. Securing Citadels could be done with single Champions. Sure, in Extreme mode, you''d need one of the better ones and not the waste of XP that I was looking at. But, from my cursory look over this warband, it was at least twice as large as the one I''d previously in and they had Pegasus Knights at their disposal. They had enough magic damage in their alpha strikes to smash through any neutral armies that spawned at the start of the game. "Fighting in castles is hard enough, but underground ancient ruins are far harder to secure."


    Wait, what the fuck?


    They''re planning on fighting the goblins and other shitty, fantasy mobs on their home turf!?


    I needed that to not happen.


    I needed that to not happen right the fuck now!


    "Uhhm, ah¡­ you don''t need to attack them head on, sir!" My sudden energy caught Riegert''s attention as planned. Unfortunately, it also attracted his daughter''s gaze, which was looking decidedly less dull with combat at play. Some pieces were falling into place about my suspicions regarding her, but I put them aside for now. One massive problem and threat to my life at a time. "Lord Ghor found the amulet, right?"


    "He did. Why is that important?" A raised brow told me that Riegert was suspicious about my sudden realization, but I disregarded it. "Did you forget something until now, kid?"


    "Y-yes, I''m very sorry! I heard this when we were in a last town. Lots of the bosses were talking about hiring more people to help in the fight, but the biggest boss told them that they don''t need any help, because of the amulet!"


    "Oh, why is that?"


    "Because, um, he said that you just need to put a drop of your blood on the amulet, then it''ll be yours! It''ll get rid of everything else!"


    "Ah, the defenses will deal with the intruders inside, while it rises."


    "Yes, sir!"


    That was the lore-reason as to why the beasties inside the Citadels got out to meet armies in open battle. Naturally, the neutral warbands would like to entrench themselves and fight in fortified positions. However, that wasn''t an option with the Citadel being claimed. So, they had the option of fighting for their home and taking the amulet, or running and getting run down for free XP.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    The XP will be going to Riegert, which will be a waste, but it was better than pressing this warband into a meat grinder¡ª


    Suddenly, I had a pair of emerald eyes blazing with interest in front of me.


    "You know more than you should." The statement was final and I half-expected it to be accompanied by a knife to the gut. However, instead of that, I received something more terrifying. The undiluted interest of a creature that was the bane of every half-decent''s player''s existence: the worst Event Unit. A unit tied to a specific series of events linked with by a Champion Unit activating it. The voice line that followed sealed the deal, since I''d grown to hate it with a passion. "Do you hear it? The whispers of the winds?"


    I wasn''t just dealing with the worst Champion Unit, I was also dealing with the dev''s idea of a sick joke on April Fools, right after they added the option to disable all events.


    The le random, le meme Champion unit with completely random features, random class, random growth stats, randomized skill trees, and random traits that everybody treated like their pet dog.


    The Chosen One.


    An insane Champion Unit whose voicelines all implied that they heard the player as "wind" and would do anything the wind/player said. Examples ranged from attacking its own allies and army with a click, launch area-of-effect spells on their own armies regardless of friendly fire, and siege their own and allied cities without question and regardless of consequence.


    The creature that could be the most terrifying, the absolute weakest, or an average Champion all dependent on RNG.


    Either immediately thrown away, or kept as a the cornerstone of an entire campaign to the very end.


    The Chosen One loomed over me, asked me if I was crazy as her, so I uttered the only answer I could.


    "N-no! I just overheard, and I remembered, because I wanted to sell rumors!" I want out. I do not want this event. Let me out of this living meme''s immediate vicinity. I scrambled back and even considered going over the back of the wagon, until I suddenly found myself caught by the shoulders and dragged forward. Ilych sat me right next to her, putting Riegert between me and escape. She smelled like honed metal, varnished leather, and cleaned linen, as she kept me close. "Uhm, please let me go!"


    "No. The winds favor you. Your words caused it to shift, and now I know I must protect you." Ilych spoke with a zealousness that frightened me. I looked to Riegert, but the mountain of a man just looked at the situation with interest. No. He looked at his daughter with interest. He barely cared about me. Why would he? I was just a scavenger that they picked up yesterday. Ilych was the one being strange. "The winds of fate shall guide me well."


    Augh, generic NPC lines sounded even worse when my life was on the line!


    I looked to Riegert for help, not finding any words that would get me out of the situation without dying, but the red-haired man merely shook his head.


    "Well, I''m glad that these winds have told you to do what I told you to. As for you, kid, just bear with it. Ilych is a fantastic warrior." Of course, she is! She''s a Champion Unit! Even with the worst stats, she''ll be able to smash through a few hundred Tier 1 soldiers without issue and there''s nothing around at this time that can stop her! That''s awesome, but she''s still batshit crazy! "Hm, we''re almost there."


    Riegert tugged on the canvas cover of the wagon and it came off, while the wagon turned into a corner.


    In the distance, I saw it as it shuddered, shook, and rose from the ground.


    "Looks like you were right, kid." Riegert tapped his ear. I barely took notice of the little stud that somehow used magic to let him communicate with his lord. "One drop of blood was all that it took."


    A white tower arose from the ground. The road beneath us rumbled and the horses strained at their straps, but the driver held them fast. Still, the entire caravan slowed and beheld the rise of the Citadel.


    I''d seen it hundreds of times through a screen, but the importance of the structure, and how it gave its owner the right to claim being a king, became more apparent as I saw it for real.


    It was enormous for the age. At least thirty stories tall, the main building was a perfect, bone-white building that arose from the ground and stretched into the sky. Like a tree unfolding from the earth, it reached into the sky, easily visible for miles and miles, even while surrounded by trees and hills. Just as it stopped its growth, the ground shook even more fiercely, and around it arose lesser towers, a tall wall, and a shimmer of palpable power that sent electric waves over my limbs even from at least ten miles away.


    A castle out of legend rising unblemished from the Earth like a sword.


    Or, in my view, like a middle finger to my dreams of a peaceful life.


    "Let all the world know of our majesty and might, indeed. The ancients never fail to impress." Riegert intoned, while the shimmer around the tower solidified and flowed into it. Soon enough a deluge of creatures flowed out of its walls into the surrounding forest. Giant spiders, goblins, and other fantasy standard mobs left it like a tide and found no means to enter once its gates closed. "Now, let''s see if we can take for ourselves and end this ceaseless war."


    Ilych nodded at her father''s words, and I noticed a few men on horseback and on foot begin to pray or cheer at the sight.


    Meanwhile, I felt like heated lead had just been forced down my throat.


    It was majestic, and it was amazing, but now things were truly in motion.


    This Citadel rising up will galvanize all the other factions to do the same, everyone will gather power, and everyone with Citadels will fight and fight until every single one was theirs¡­ and then the invasion will begin, and it''ll roll over the whole continent.


    Knowing that I had to get out of here was one thing.


    Looking straight at it was another.

 Chapter 3

    Chapter 3:


    ¡­


    The Citadel''s importance can''t be understated.


    The nerds who made the lore went into intricate detail about why it was important, and they never failed to cram it down our throats.


    Each Citadel was an ancient logistical hub, which provided blessings and enchantments to the region it was locked it. It was a wholesale boon to any civilization that lived in the region. Fields grew twice as fast, weeds didn''t grow, and pests were driven away. The soil didn''t grow follow, fruit groves grew fruit more quickly, and animals were more easily raised.


    Then, through a network of lesser towers around the region where Settlements and Forts would be erected, the lord could communicate instantly with his governors and commanders. Finally, the people of the Lord that owned the citadel easily healed from anything short of mortal wounds, resisted most diseases, and had better stamina.


    It was all to explain the game mechanics.


    Why do my troops heal more quickly and fight harder in my territory?


    The Citadel.


    How is my population booming, not absurdly sick, and ballooning into the millions from a hundred thousand in just twenty years?


    The Citadel.


    How are they making enough food, building so fast, and how are they raising monstrous beasts for mounts?


    The Citadel.


    Why do my troops move more quickly in my lands, and how do they know where to go despite being half a continent away once I take a town?


    The Citadel.


    Ghor being willing to elevate a scrapper into near-nobility with just a piece of info about the Citadel made more sense with that in mind. The Citadel wasn''t just a massive, defensive location that was nearly indestructible. It was the cornerstone and the remains of an ancient, magical civilization that ruled over the planet and intended to do so forever. Whoever had a fraction of their infrastructure under their control had a chance at conquering the world, not just the continent, and that was the entire premise of the game.


    You have the chance to seize the whole world.


    Take the chance or have that chance be taken by someone else.


    It was a basic as hell and boring premise, but it let me fight with Demonic Giants with scantily-clad Dark Elves, so I gave it a 7.5/10.


    Oh, jeez.


    Dark Elves existed and all the other nerd fetishes did too.


    Not going to think about that for a long time.


    Anyway, back to the situation at hand.


    The battle to take the Citadel.


    The tutorial battle.


    On the most extreme difficulty level.


    Yeah, this could end with this army dying, though Riegert might end up the last man standing.


    Unfortunately, I happened to be with the rest of the army and not with the command staff.


    ?


    "Well, the boys up high have done all that they could. Smashed down trees, funneled the enemy in, and gave us a nice, clean fight." Riegert looked through a long telescope at the battlelines ahead. We were situated on a small, elevated location overlooking the battlefield. It was less a hill and more like a slight uphill climb, but the whole caravan fortified and rallied around it. Small trenches were dug, barricades were set up, and patrol lines set. The basic-bitch command tent you got at the start of the game was around me. I hated it. Any single battalion/unit gets to us, and we''re considered dead. "What do you think, Ilych?"


    The black-haired warrior that hadn''t stopped hovering near me since leaving the wagon spoke.


    "Standard tactics. Draw them into ranged fire. Hold the center. Flank when possible. Use their mass against them." Wow, that really was standard. It''ll get you killed the standard way, too. Wait, why are you looking at me? "The winds tell me to ask Jack for his thoughts."


    "Oh, why?"


    "The winds will it."


    On one hand, I didn''t want to accommodate Ilych''s mental illness, since she could murder her way through at least a hundred well-armed people.


    On the other hand, I didn''t want to test the defenses of a Tier 0 Command Post that gets auto-killed if you let an enemy unit touch it.


    Alright, time to accelerate psychoses for my survival!


    "Um, I don''t know much, but it looks like there''s a lot of bugs there and goblins too. They have lots of poison, so no one likes to fight them close. Even horses have trouble." I did my best to base my knowledge from what an urchin from a warband would know. Thankfully, anyone who tell them I was lying was dead. "Goblins and bugs run away when lots of fire is used, so maybe use those and hunt them down later?"


    "Now¡­ that''s a great idea, kid!" Riegert didn''t hide his surprise and tussled my hair. One of the officers under him looked at me with relief, despite staying stoic at the start of the conversation. You know that you should speak up, right? This isn''t modern times. Silence can still be considered consent here! Hell, some people who just fight back are considered feisty by the worst of the bunch! "Call on the mages and get all the lantern oil we can spare. Get me all the archers you can!"


    "Aye, sir!"


    The lieutenant left and I was content with that.


    That was enough of an advantage in this fight. Even if they just went on the standard course of action after, against whatever part of the swarm didn''t break and flee, only half of this army should end up dying.


    Wait, Riegert was asking for the archers?


    He''d only do that if he could apply flame enhancement to their attacks!


    Did¡­ did that mean he was already on the third tier of his skill tree!?


    I might not be able to recall anyone''s birthday, but yes, I did perfectly know the entire skill tree of a bunch of pixels! In fact, I knew every single Special Unit''s skill tree by heart!


    No, I didn''t have a social life!


    Anyway, back to the situation.


    There was a flurry of activity all throughout the camp by Riegert''s order. Barrels were rolled up to the front line and torches were passed out amongst the frontline. However, most of my attention was on the three units worth of Archers that assembled. Lightly armored with leather vests and kettle helms, they were tough looking guys with strong backs and arms from constant training with their bows.


    They were the best early units that you could get in the human factions.


    Suck it, Elves. Your archers are tier three and better, but that just means they''re fodder for all the high-speed flanking units and spells, instead of useful in the early game, ha-ha!


    Wait, those sniping monsters were real in this world! Shit!


    "Good, it''s been a while, but my days at the academy haven''t been a waste." Riegert gestured at the assembled men with one hand, while holding open a tome that he had chained to his hip. A glow appeared on his hand and letters arose from the tome''s pages. This was magic¡ªwait, did he just say Academy!? The midgame upgrade area is working right now!? Hold-the-fuck-up! "How did it go again? Hm. I think it was: Oh, spirit of the flames, grant the arms of these men with your wrath!"


    Blah, blah, blah, three hundred men''s weapons were imbued with the ability to inflict fire damage atop physical damage.


    It was an impressive feat that defied the laws of physics, because energy could be manipulated through technique and visualization.


    I didn''t care because I came to a realization.


    The Academy was attacked when the fighting began to prevent it from falling into anyone''s hands. It was threatened with destruction, so they cut off contact with the entire continent and sealed themselves away. Mid-game started when everyone had armies in the size of tens of thousands and their populations were ballooning, and the Academy couldn''t hope to hold anyone off, so they became a neutral location that offered training to everyone until they got rolled over the endgame threat! After that, you needed to make a Wonder in one of your towns to do the training at double the price per unlock!


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    If that was still working right now, and things were just kicking off, and then¡­ there was a chance I could go there and learn something that''ll keep me alive!


    But the only way a peasant like me was getting there was through a patron and by having the merits necessary to do so!


    The former was already in my grasp, but the latter¡­ I needed to get my ass into gear yesterday!


    I reached over and tugged on Riegert''s side, while running through my head everything we could do in the early game to get every advantage we could and getting all the credit for it myself.


    "Sir, look over there!" I pointed at the rough place where the boss of this shitty, trash group of mobs should be. I knew where it was, because I fought through is battle hundreds of times for the loot that I''d miss, if I skipped it. I could barely see a thing, even with my vision being better in this life than the last. I didn''t need glasses, woop-de-doo! "There''s a really big goblin!"


    "Oh?" Riegert was quick to get his telescope and point where I was gesturing at. I hoped that he''d find the first enemy special unit. "There is. You''ve got sharp-eyes kid. It looks like one of those rare, magic-slinging types had a child with a troll."


    I did my best to not imagine which was the mother and which was the father in that scenario, and just relayed the information that I knew was important.


    "The warband''s old leader said something about needing to kill that one. It was something important." Killing an enemy Special Unit with one of your own Units in set battles always gave a reward. In the tutorial, it was a bonus against all neutral, non-human monsters and a ten-turn initial boost to your region. Higher production, more food, and more gold. Then, there was the equipment drop. "A staff, I think."


    "Huh, you''re right. It''s carrying something. Something ancient. By the gods, I think it''s an artifact, kid!" Riegert went from slightly impressed to terrifyingly enthused. A wide grin split his lips, he glanced at me, and settled both his massive hands on my shoulder. "If it''s what I think it is, this''ll change your life!"


    Oh, fuck no.


    I''m not taking something like that for myself!


    "I-I don''t want to take something so important. If I could just get some gold, I''ll be fine, sir!" Artifacts are what in-game equipment are called. You find them by scouring ruins with your Champion Units in ranked matches and they were always the same for every game. In unranked matches, they were a dizzying mix chosen from over a hundred with unbalanced stat-lines and random effects, and they came from both ruins and events. However, that didn''t matter to me. I just wanted the credit for spotting it. Not having it. That would make me a target. "I just think you might want it!"


    "Hah, of course I want it! Who wouldn''t!? Get me my horse! Everyone mount up!" Riegert moved forward and some people on standby came forward with pieces of armor in hand. He held out his arms and soon enough he was strapped up in full plate. Ilych was soon fully armored too, and stools were taken out while warhorses were set out. I thought they were alone, but a lot of the group in our little command section started getting armor put on them too. Before I caught onto what was happening, a massive hand picked me up and placed me in front of Ilych on her saddle. I''m not a half-ling, I''m an actual child, y''know!? "We''re setting up a charge after we shatter their front!"


    Wait a damn second, I didn''t agree to this!


    "I don¡ªmmgrph!?"


    "The winds say to guard you with my life. Put this helmet on."


    NO! That''s the opposite of guarding my life! People with face-covering helmets get killed in RTS games! Take this shit off me! Take it off me noooowwww!


    I didn''t manage to get it off, while Ilych and everyone else began to move, and soon enough everything was moving too fast for me to have any hope of jumping off the horse and surviving.


    Goodbye, safe command post.


    Hello, battlefield.


    I''m going to die, aren''t I?


    ?


    The din of hooves crashing against dirt.


    The screaming of giant insects and goblins.


    The scent of blood and the sensation of it flying upon you.


    Turbulent wind filled with viscera and blood.


    Noise from the rumbling of hooves, panting of horses, the sound of metal against flesh, and the breaking of bone amidst a cacophony of screen.


    Incessant motion, the sensation of being a part of a charge, and the parting of a force that could do nothing against you.


    I could barely see in front of me, the horse''s rising and falling armored head and neck blocked my vision. To my right, Ilych''s hand flashed holding her cavalry sword in one hand. Each swipe she made cut through an enemy that did not fall from the weight of the cavalry charge enhanced by magic into a formation already broken by flaming missile fire, and encroaching infantry bristling with pikes.


    Her hand rose and fell with perfect motions, each time killing a goblin or giant spider with utmost ease, and never wavering with each foe.


    In game, it was amusing to see a Special Unit on an armored mount carving straight through a crowd of starting, neutral units. People would share kill counts in the upper hundreds in a single battle.


    In reality, I couldn''t bare to look at the right side of the charge''s tip, as every time I looked something died with ease that beleaguered belief.


    But the daughter couldn''t compare with her father.


    I knew Riegert was a monster the moment I met him, but it was something else entirely on the battlefield. I knew that he could solo this entire army, with everyone else staying back and doing nothing but protect their lord. He''d survive with ten percent of his health remaining, sparing everyone else the damage and keeping them strong, while gaining experience in the process for a meme rush in the early game that had to be scouted to be stopped.


    This wasn''t a game, though, and I gave him every advantage possible to make this easier for him.


    And, apparently, he was far stronger than he should''ve been at the start of a game.


    So, of course, at the tip of the spear of a column of heavy cavalry¡­ Riegert made the sea of monsters part before him with every swing of his glaive.


    Five monsters died with every swing, bifurcated and turned into warped carcasses spewing entrails, and three to their immediate right and left were blown away with broken bones cutting them apart from within. In game, it was hilarious to see lesser monsters fly around and get swept up by an overpowered, late-game unit with Cleave and Charge.


    Now, it was nothing short of terrifying.


    Riegert swung as easily as he breathed, he killed at least a dozen monsters with each swing of his glaive, and it was on pure reflex.


    In minutes, we reached the goblin lord that the tutorial made out to be the first boss the player faced.


    It was supposed to introduce the duel mechanic, teach the player that armies should fight armies and heroes should fight heroes.


    Riegert stopped for a second and cut the goblin lord in half from top to bottom, instead of horizontally, and cratered the ground beneath the creature with the end of his glaive''s swing.


    A moment later the creature''s artifact flew to him¡­ and he threw it towards me with a smile, disregarding my demand to not have it be mine.


    I couldn''t refuse.


    The man was an absolute monster¡­ and all his contemporaries were probably the same.


    Some would think that this would be better.


    That this place had a better chance of surviving the endgame crisis.


    But I knew better.


    This was horrible.


    All these people were going to go at each other with endgame Champions and Spells, while their armies were masses of Tier Ones.


    Tier Ones that couldn''t be replaced by throwing some gold at a building, no matter how amazing Citadels were.


    This whole continent was going to drown in blood and choke on corpses even before the endgame crisis arrived.

 Chapter 4:

    Chapter 4:


    ¡­


    Ghor of House Khanrow was quick to take control of the Citadel.


    And, within days after taking it, the area was in the beginning stages turning the Citadel into a capital city of the region. Everyone was seizing on the benefits that it offered. Whole villages showed up with their livestock to become citizens, and the less fortunate ones sent their leaders to offer fealty, so that they crops would grow faster and their people would be healthier.


    I say citizens, but the rule of law wasn''t really at play here.


    Rights weren''t guaranteed, and Ghor was essentially a tyrant with the strongest military force in the land, and he had people beside him that he could happily reward to keep him in power.


    Back in my previous life, it''d be called the establishment of a military dictatorship.


    Here, it was an upgrade from centuries of chaos, bloodshed, and turmoil.


    "This place is one step away from breaking into a festival." Riegert was given a room in the main spire of the Citadel. The sky-scraping structure was a lavish palace on the inside. The center was mostly hollow, but the walls were thick and held multiple rooms and facilities. Scholars and mages on retainer were poring over the place and bringing it up online. Since it was supposed to instantly give the player starting income in the turn it was taken, I was sure they''ll have everything figured out in four months. "When was the last time we went to on Ilych?"


    "I do not recall." Ilych, thankfully, calmed down when the winds stopped talking to her. I suppose she used up all her actions for this turn. Now that I thought about it, regeneration wasn''t a terrible trait anymore, if you could heal from 1HP to full in one turn without paying any money. "One will begin soon. Lord Khanrow is planning it. They will use the food produced by the Citadel."


    I shuddered a little at those words, while studying the local literature to make reading second nature to me again.


    Riegert made a face while looking down at the masses below from the balcony.


    "Can''t say I trust the scholars on those vats of flesh. The ancients knew more than we did, but some lines shouldn''t be crossed." Yeah, one of the writers of this game was all about using magic in place of science. If healing magic can regenerate flesh and even help resurrect, why wouldn''t it be used to grow beef? The result was quite a few rooms of the logistics hub having vats of living meat that you cut hunks off of endlessly. It didn''t have any nerves or a brain, so it couldn''t possibly feel pain, but it still¡­ moved and twitched when you stabbed into it. "I''ll take the bread made from the wheat grown in here, and the fruits too, though. Those are perfect."


    On that, I agreed fully.


    I could see why this place provided a morale boost for armies and a happiness boost to your citizenry.


    Running water, a set amount of food that can be harvested freely everyday, and easily-defended chokepoints and unpickable doors.


    The food was the best part, though.


    After years of subsisting on gruel and small game I''d caught myself, I had fresh whole-wheat sourdough and sweet fruit every day. Not only that, but I could force myself to eat the meat from the vats just fine once a day, which secured my future growth.


    Or, so I hoped.


    I didn''t want to end up stuck as a prepubescent, like a certain salaryman did in his second life.


    "Anyway, if you told me that you were a scavenger, I wouldn''t have believed you." Riegert addressed me with a big smile. I sat on one of the chairs that just grew out of the ground after it thought about wanting a place to read. It had no cushion, but the material for my back and rear was elastic and it formed a stand for my book. I wouldn''t have believed anyone sitting literally magical furniture would be a scavenger either. All of the furnishings in the Citadel was like this. You thought it and it rose out of the ground for the purpose you wanted. "You clean up well, kid."


    I slapped a smile on my face and beamed Riegert''s way.


    "Thank you, sir!" Looks are important. I learned that in my last life the hard way, after feeling just how differently everyone treated me after I lost weight and thinking about how I looked. It was a wholesale upgrade and less of a hassle to talk to people and get them to do what I wanted. So, I wasn''t wasting my knowledge of diet and hygiene while growing up in this world. I got myself a haircut to just above the ears, cleaned myself properly with the best soap I could get my hands on, and dressed myself simply, but with fine materials. "A-about this artifact, sir¡ª"


    "Jeez, I told you, it''s yours. Stop trying to foist it on me." Riegert rolled his eyes, before chuckling. The goblin king''s staff was pure white and it changed size to fit my hands, after leaving the monster''s. It was a sleek wand now, that I hid in my sleeve to stay out of sight. "Lord Khanrow told you to keep it, as well. He''s got plans for you, and those plans will go better with an artifact on your hands."


    I nodded and smiled on the outside, but seethed on the inside.


    Get this shit off me! You''re going to get me killed! You know how easily a kid disappears and never comes back in this world!?


    I know! At least a dozen used to just disappear every year in my last warband, because they got lucky and a soldier wanted what they had!


    They got killed for a sword or a piece of armor, while I''m running around with an artifact that''s meant for tactical advantages on battlefields where thousands clash on the low end.


    Yeah, that''s right.


    I''m eight years old and I have a wand that cleanses poison off of groups of a hundred men every minute.


    In-game, it''s called the Staff of Cleanse. It''s how the goblins lived along the giant spiders and tamed them in the lore, but didn''t matter as much. In the early game, debuffs like disease during combat were a pain. Then, there were the Events where your army gets a disease outbreak on the march and loses ten percent of its overall health. The Staff of Cleanse nullifies poison and gives a perfect solution to that damaging event.


    Obviously, it''s an incredibly valuable piece of equipment. I can cast its effect five times before getting tired, and I''m a child. In an experienced mage''s hands, they could cure whole outbreaks of disease and plague in a day with a wave of their staff. In battle, they could practically make sure poison meant nothing to their side of the equation. Well, T0 and T1 Poison and Disease. Midgame needed the Cure Staff, and late game needed the Panacea¡­ and this was the baseline for both of those necessary pieces of midgame and lategame equipment!


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    So, why the hell was everyone telling me to keep it!?


    They should be slapping it on their support-oriented Champion the moment they''re purchased or acquired and forgetting about it until it could be upgraded.


    But no.


    It''s with the eight-year-old child they met a week ago.


    What the hell is up with these people!?


    Why couldn''t I convince them to take it without breaking out knowledge from my previous life!?


    Unless¡­ unless there was a reason why it was with me?


    No sooner did the thought occur to me that something washed over me, forcing me to get out of my chair, and look for the nearest exit.


    Riegert''s hand took hold of my shoulder, pulled me back, and placed me next to Ilych while I searched.


    "It looks like the time has come. Kid, stay close to me. Ilych, don''t hold back." Riegert offered no explanation. Instead, he took something in his pocket, then broke it. Dust spread over him¡­ touching the full plate he was wearing and revealing it. Fragments touched Ilych and revealed that she was also covered in full plate. "Let''s get to Ghor and deal with the traitors."


    Earlier, I mentioned Ghor having complete loyalty over his people, which was the mechanic that allowed him to have five or so turns without any moral issues or forces attempting to perform a coup against him in the early game.


    I was wrong.


    That loyalty was gained from absolutely murdering everyone who was after his position with the Champion Units he had at his disposal.


    ¡­


    The Citadel was a hard place to take. You needed to have at least five units of infantry at eighty percent health to take it in one turn, or a Champion Unit that had siege proficiency maxed out. That''s after finishing off the enemy army guarding their capital. Every turn you didn''t take it, you''ll be withering away in enemy territory, unable to reinforce your army, and risking losing your Champions while trying to take the city.


    That''s somewhat because the defenders of the Citadel had food, supplies, and all the weapons and armor that they needed. Not only that, but the structure itself was built kill intruders. Hallways moved to favor the defenders and trap intruders. Stairs grew smooth, while levitating platforms refused to work, or gave the defenders an advantage by tilting very high up.


    That''s the in-game lore reason for the difficulty it takes to take a Citadel no matter the difficulty level.


    Lots of players had issues with it, but most agreed that it ensured that people couldn''t die before fifty turns and had a chance against the all-in that they faced.


    People back home generally liked having their command center being hard to take.


    It was horrible to witness.


    Soldiers that were part of the coup attempt died horrifically. The halls outside the rooms showcased the hollow interior of the spire. Soldiers of the coup attempt were regularly tripped by the structure with outgrowths from the ground, and the railing disappeared as they fell. Stairs didn''t just go flat, the base became covered in spikes that pierced those who fell and slid onto them, and the levitating platforms didn''t just tilt¡­ they sped straight up or down to kill the enemies of the one that owned the structure.


    Meanwhile, the troops protecting it had mobile cover, weapons and shields and armor formed from the tower for them to use. Shortcuts formed for them, and the ground even moved forward with their steps to speed them forward like mobile walkways. The levitating platforms picked up their wounded and brought them to the infirmaries, where they were healed, and those already healed were returned to the fight.


    If anything, only needing five hundred professional soldiers to take the Citadel seemed too little.


    Then again, the Citadel usually wasn''t garrisoned in-game.


    Here, Ghor''s loyal soldiers and officers turned the floors into killing fields, threw the bodies of the enemies over the railings, and they were supported by Ilych and Riegert. On horseback, Riegert was more terrifying that Ilych, but it was the opposite when it came to fighting on foot. Riegert could use his glaive in close quarters well enough. Even a bash from the shaft of the weapon broke limbs and torsos with a single strike, and the bladed end easily cleaved through two or three men at once. When he thrusted it forward, he could clear away halls by knocking armored soldiers down with sheer pressure.


    Ilych, though, couldn''t be stopped.


    Not by sword.


    Not by shield.


    Not by spar.


    Not even by familiar faces.


    Everything in her path turned into bifurcated corpses clad in armor.


    Helms were cleaved in half with the slightest twitch of her wrist. A lengthwise strike with her blade would cut through sword and spine in an instant. A screaming berserker wielding a heavy axe trampling towards her fell forward after losing his legs to a sweeping slice conducted during a crouch, and he fell face first into her sword, only for her to pull it out through the upper half of his skull and brain both.


    Riegert protected me, while Ilych turned everything in front of us into corpses.


    As we traveled, we gathered loyal soldiers and officers, and I barely managed to pay attention as I waded through hall after hall of death. I recognized the faces. Mages, archers, and pikemen. I did my best to remember them as units in a game, but they all had different faces, birthmarks, and personalized armor. None of them were alike. Some of them were on the front, when I saw real magic for the first time, and they smiled with their friends when their bows were granted the ability to project fire.


    They were dead.


    Dead like all those I stole from in so many battlefields to earn my freedom.


    I barely noticed as we gathered a host close to two hundred and reached the top floor.


    We found Ghor in the study of the Citadel, a room that was all too familiar to me from a screen, and the aged man was wiping blood from his blade and nodded at Riegert, Ilych, and his loyal officers¡­ who all returned his nod.


    Then, he laid his eyes on me.


    My heart sank to my stomach, as I realized what they were going to do.


    I held the only other artifact in this entire army.


    They were going to make me their puppet-king to protect their true lord, by painting me out as some rags-to-riches peasant that tried to save the man who saved him by rallying his loyalists during a coup. A peasant who failed, but still managed to gain the respect of his former lord in his dying moments, and inherited a treasure that controlled the Citadel.


    I was being turned into a hoax to protect Ghor of House Khanrow from dangerous coups like this in the future.


    And, there was nothing I could do to stop them.

 Chapter 5

    Chapter 5:


    ¡­


    Ghor


    ¡­


    Verdant forests filled with life.


    Fields lush with wheat and corn.


    Boats filled with harvests from the sea.


    Herds of cattle, sheep, and horses tended to by farmhands.


    All these things were a faraway past that my grandfather shared with me long ago.


    And ,now, I stood on the precipice of a renewed dream after years of sacrifice, pain, and violence.


    But I could not yet rest.


    There was a knock on my door, and I willed the tower to grant entry to the Riegert on the other side. I dwelled in the base of the tower, many lengths beneath the soil, and where my key bid me to stay and ensure my safety.


    In the underground castle within a castle, I was safe and secure, but I could not rule from here.


    So, I made use of the scrapper that we stumbled across and who led us here in good fortune.


    I entrusted him to Riegert to be molded as a figurehead after I feigned my death a month ago.


    As always, Riegert entered my sanctum proud and with his head held high, though his eyes wandered to the ancient golems, sleek and deadly constructs composed of the same material as the tower, that watched him as he entered.


    "Lord Ghor, I''m here to make my report." The times when we met changed. Most of the time, we spoke through the Citadel''s secret methods to ensure secrecy. However, whenever we could ensure that no schedule could be discerned from his movements, we met face-to-face. We owed that much to one another. "Everything is going as expected on my end. Well, except for the boy, naturally."


    "I see. Your intuition about him is proving to be a far greater boon. He''s so perfect for his role that it worries me." I mused. The scrapper, Jack, fell into my hands be chance. Since then, he led to my discovery of the Citadel, and then turned himself into a perfect figurehead with his keen gaze. "Has he begun trying to escape?"


    "I have my daughter watching him, so he can''t run far, but I have a few men keeping an eye on him too. He doesn''t trust anyone enough to, and he knows that you''ve weeded out all the traitors, so he''s getting keen on the new recruits." Riegert drifted toward me and crossed his arms, as he looked at the masterpiece constructed by the ancients at the center of the room. In the white, living stone of the Citadel, the whole region was outlined in differing shades of white. Like a deity, I looked upon all my lands from above. With a thought, I brought Jack forth, and the materials became his room at the top of the tower he stayed. He was, once again, poring over the texts and books that he was provided. "The kid''s bright, and all he wants is to be safe, and we can work with that."


    "Indeed, we can, unless the winds your daughter listens to bid her to do as he commands."


    "If it comes to that, I can bring her down without killing her, and maybe convince her to stop. Maybe. It''ll be a problem in a few more years, though. She has talent and strength in spades, and she''ll grow into it quick." Riegert shared his thoughts with me without hesitation. His gaze traced over the boy we decided to compose a legend around, so that I could stay safe and coordinate from the shadows. "We could let the leash loose a little, grant him some power and influence, and maybe a promise to retire¡­ but he might take what we offer and run. He''s clever, but he might be wise enough to know that he should stick around to take advantage of us, even while he''s at risk."


    "Then, it''s about instinct and handling people. I''ll leave it to you, Riegert." I knew where my skills lay. It was in command, in bribery, and in blackmail. I curled my iron fist around many and forced them to march with me. They tried to take my Citadel in the end, but I thankfully knew when to be humble, when to bow my head, and trust when I needed to trust. More importantly, I knew that I couldn''t achieve my dream alone, and found people who believed in the same. "Raise him well. See that he can survive what comes against us. I will stay in the shadows, fight the battles on this front, and force those who come to swear service to him to kneel and know their place."


    "Hah, so it''ll be just like always." Riegert bowed his head at my words and gave a small laugh. He turned to leave for a moment, before turning over to me. "The message should''ve arrived by now. What should I tell her?"


    A faint ache resonated in my heart, but I knew better than to let my emotions get the better of me.


    "She''s better suited for a life on the isle." When my wife perished, I secreted my daughter away and gave her a life off the continent. A coastal town where she ruled as the wife of a lesser lord. She had grandchildren now and they lived peacefully, away from all the violence. Perhaps, my grandchildren will come to this land when it is peaceful and kind, but not my daughter. There is too much work to be done. "Tell her that I died, send her the inheritance, and tell her that a stipend will come. I will arrange for it and tell her that in my dying breath I appointed you to help Jack rule over this land and bring my dream to reality."


    I am a poor father.


    I abandoned my child the moment my wife died and pursued a dream of forcing peace across Celsia as both repentance and vengeance.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Perhaps, if I abandoned my path, I could live my last years peacefully¡­ but I couldn''t stray from my path.


    Not after all the blood I spilled.


    Blood from both good men and bad.


    Riegert stopped at my words, before turning, facing me, and bowing deeply from his waist and rising again.


    "Your will shall be done, Lord Ghor of House Khanrow."


    I bid him farewell with a nod and he left.


    Then, I turned to the boy studying beneath magical lights.


    Smart, cunning, clever, and unwilling to be distracted by luxury¡­ preferring a life of peace over fame and fortune both.


    Perhaps, if he lived, Riegert''s overt dramatics could be waylaid, and I would not be the last of House Khanrow.


    But that was a thought for another day.


    For now, I had to continue to rebuild my network, after so thoroughly using my last to secure my position.


    ?


    Riegert


    ¡­


    ?


    I''ve met many geniuses in my lifetime.


    Most perished after riding out to meet me in combat, or rode out with me, even those who attended the Academy.


    Those blessed with the bloodline of the ancients are more than most expect. In fact, with enough training and experience, most can awaken some fraction of a fraction of the ancient blood in their veins. Longevity, greater strength, speed, and reflexes, were within the grasp of most.


    If they survived battle after battle.


    If they trained themselves hard every day.


    If they subjected themselves to rigors in mind, body, and spirit.


    Then, a mere mortal man can be shaped into what he should''ve been, if the Ancients did not fall and we were all born into a time of plenty and power.


    Survival, above all else, matters the most. It gives the body time to change, to adapt, and to awaken what vestigial power and ability they received from the forebearers. Those who ride out into battle without an army at their back, without covering themselves in armor, and anticipating every move of the enemy were fools, no matter how much they were lauded.


    True strength came from carefully raising those under your command into a mighty army from within and without.


    Many of my fellows say that my path has led me astray, that we should devote ourselves to finding more ancient ruins and returning to the Academy, so that all their magics can be widespread again.


    Yet, most of them were now dead, and those who survived followed in my footsteps, and I was sure that they would soon lead their own lords to their own Citadels.


    But, while they do that, I will continue on my path.


    I will raise up the people who have entrusted me with their lives into what they''re supposed to be.


    This land, the suffusion of magic, told me that I no longer needed to be content with shadows.


    I can grow stronger, and so can my soldiers, and we will become what we should''ve been.


    A people that made the world entire their own and ruled over it for millennia,


    A people that could leash the monsters of the world and fight against the terrors it held.


    But that was all in the future.


    For now, I had a young man to raise.


    "Jack." I entered the topmost room of the tower and the boy did his utmost to smile at me and feign ignorance. However, I already saw the scratches on the wall, the odd wrinkles on the sheets on his bed, and the wrinkles in his clothes. He was a bright and capable kid, but more than that, he knew to do his best to hide it. "It''s time for you to train. Come with me."


    "Y-yes, Sir Riegert!" That hesitation and fear in his voice was real, but he used both to try and conceal the truth. He embraced both, so that he wouldn''t show his frustration and spite towards me and the whole affair. I''m sure that he''ll have the guards fooled within a few weeks. It''s good that I had the foresight to set them all on rotation. "Lead the way!"


    "Heh, I see that you''ve finally warmed up to the idea. Good." I played along, hiding my own intent, and pretending to lack perception. My height, size, and strength led most to believe that I was just an ox that barely left the Academy with my head held high. It was a useful belief for others to have of me. "Come on then. Ilych is waiting."


    For a brief moment, Jack couldn''t hide his fear of Ilych, and for a moment I felt a flash of anger at him.


    The first other being that my daughter cared for, in her own way, and he feared her completely and utterly.


    Thankfully, I was able to ignore it and set my emotions aside.


    "A-ah, okay. I''ll do my best today, too!" Jack feigned his cheer with years of practice and experience. I was almost fooled. He looked good for a scrapper, lacking in any of the scars and wounds and even had pearly-white teeth. Lord Khanrow chose a good face. In a few years, he''ll have a chance at binding somebody significant to our ranks. "Lead on, Sir Riegert."


    "Hah! Good, come along, kid!"


    I smiled at him and he smiled back, both of us lying to one another, so that we could achieve our own ends.


    Lord Khanrow chose well.


    This young man will go far on his own, and we could use that potential to our advantage.

 Chapter 6

    Chapter 5:


    ?


    After six months, I''ve managed to make a dozen close confidants, gained blackmail on three officers, and weapons for myself without Khanrow noticing.


    Hah.


    Yeah. Fucking. Right.


    "Excellent work, Jack. You''re a prodigy!" I haven''t even had a chance to shit without telling someone I needed to use the bathroom. Gaining any ground towards escaping was practically impossible. The third turn of the game was starting, Khanrow was getting stronger and building up, and I was basically trapped in learning hell. I turned nine to little fanfare, while tutors were thrown at me without ceasing. "Impeccable work with arithmetic as always!"


    "T-thank you very much!" I gave my widest, most practiced smile and made my tutor smile in return. I got a hair tussle, but a cough from one of my minders made the elderly scholar step back quickly. He wiped a bead of sweat from his head. Yep. I''m not allowed to form parental fingers. If I wasn''t already mentally traumatized, I sure as hell would''ve been now. "What''s next, sir?"


    "A-ah, well. That''s the end of my lessons for today. I''ll call your next tutor, prince." Prince. Human shield was more appropriate. While the bastard, Khanrow, was skulking about in safety in the Citadel''s innards, I was out getting all the heat. The guards talked about killing assassins regularly when they thought I wasn''t paying attention, and I noticed that a few of them never came back one shift or another. Constant assassination attempts on my life that are being stopped, but only need to succeed once. Fun. "I will see you in a five days time. Farewell."


    "Okay, I''ll see you then!" I was getting worried about how easy it was to turn my brain off and act just like a bright, cheerful kid. When I had a second of privacy, I tried making a face that actually reflected how I felt: absolutely pissed. I almost failed. The grimace was almost a smile. Psychotic was a good word for it. Nothing reached my eyes, either. Yep, I''m breaking under the stress. Six more months, until I try to summon a Demon and get myself killed."Next tutor, please! Thank you, guards!"


    Another day, another set of tutors, and another mountain of books to try and read while the back of my brain was screaming at me to run away.


    Ah, almost like being back home and going to high school and university in America.


    A few moments of swallowing my fear of death later, my magic tutor arrived.


    That''s right.


    I had magic.


    Most people did, and those that didn''t tended to die young in this hellpit of a world.


    "Greetings, prince. I see that you''re concentrating and expanding your energies as I instructed. Very good." I didn''t bother with names. These guys came and went. If someone better came, they were replaced, and set to teach everyone else. Khanrow and Riegert were both focused on training me up to be the best, or look the best. "If only I had the discipline you did when I was a child, perhaps I could have attended the Academy."


    "Don''t say that! You''re a great teacher, sir!" I made sure to smile, schmooze, and do my best to be the amicable kid. That was my best and only defense. Smile and wave. Attract attention. Do your job. Try not to die. "I can feel myself getting stronger every day!"


    "That''s good. Many neglect to train as children. However, even with normal reserves such as ours, with enough training and time we can reach the strength of those blessed from birth!" That was wrong. We''re lacking understanding, reagents, and facilities that can awaken our bodies. In the end game, super soldiers are the norm for every faction as the Citadels sped up research and understanding of our own bodies. We''re all just working with bodies that are stuck in the first gear. All we can do is work out and train with what we''ve got. "Now, how much progress have you made since we last met?"


    I gave my report to him, while categorizing myself in my head.


    It would be useful to have a stat screen, but pop-ups were disabled and everything was in immersive mode, so I just had to deal with it.


    To preface: I''m not weak, but I''m sure as hell not strong.


    After six months of physical training, all the food I could eat, the best tutors, and constant training, I''m definitely better physically than I was in my previous life at nine years old. Muscle was building, endurance was getting better, and there''s barely any fat forming on my body. I''ll either be a musclebound tank when I get older, or have enough tone to make a gymnast blush, depending on whether I can hit hard or fast in combat.


    As for magic, in this world it was all about visualization, willpower, and repetition. Chanting, movements, and reciting from tomes were all meant to guide the energy within through cultivated channels and practiced imagery to affect the world. Long-lived races obviously had an advantage in magic, because their mages could be older, but experience won over everything and nearly all mages had the same upper limit.


    Champions were the exception to the rule.


    And, by all means, I was looking to be one of the replacement, generic Champions you could buy to bolster your forces or attempt to fix your fuckup. The additional army leader that you give a meta build and form a doomstack around. Some non-special, special unit that you assign to an army to make it win auto-resolves better through raw stats and certain skills. The absolute lowest tier of the Champion tier, that''ll never get special equipment, because it''s better on the real heroes.


    I hoped that was the case.


    Khanrow, Riegert, and Ilych can fuck around and find out all they want, while I stay and lead a death stack.


    Anyway, I finished telling my latest teacher what was going on, then we moved forward with the lesson.


    The days were melding together and flowing quickly.


    It was just going to be a matter of time.


    Two more turns, until the fifth turn.


    Six more months, until the first enemy appears on the map, introduces themselves, and engages us in diplomacy... and the race to pillage the continent begins.


    I had to make sure Riegert and Khanrow, even if they were forcing me to be a meatshield, get everything that they needed.


    Until I could escape, my life was in their hands as a shield, and I seriously preferred less attacks coming my way to block for their sakes.


    God, if you''re listening, please let my shitty plan to do this work.


    And, if you''re not, fuck off.


    ?


    Reigert and Khanrow were naturally busy. While the Citadel propped everything up nicely, it didn''t build the rest of the city. Much like the game, forest tiles needed to be cleared out, sections paved, and the initial districts built needed to be chosen carefully. If you didn''t choose the right ones for your playstyle, your early game is fucked, which means your mid-game is fucked, and so you''re going to lose before hitting late-game, let alone endgame.


    Man, game doesn''t even sound real anymore in my head.


    But, because those two were busy, I had little to worry about on the infrastructure front.


    The first two free district zones were being used to make a Residential District and an Industrial District. The former was going to alleviate citizen unhappiness for living in slums, which will put happiness into positive, and increase population growth. The industrial district will increase gold income, lower the turns required to produce units, and unlock the research district.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    They were already planning on making the research district after these two, and talking about building a commercial district after that, which was the best opening for a human faction.


    The problem lay in their military affairs.


    They were only securing the region.


    Now, on paper, that was a great idea.


    Clear out or subjugate the native people of the land you''re conquering was a basic, safe move. Historically speaking, and in-game, it worked out for a lot people. It got you population, access to your region''s units, and increased happiness and regional defense. The plan was good for establishing a second town quickly and really pushing towards a powerhouse economy.


    But it wasn''t the best competitive move.


    And, things were definitely going to get competitive.


    The first thing you should be doing in the first five turns and separating your army, putting your skills to the test, and absolutely grabbing the Ancient Ruins that spawn in your neighboring areas. You''ll have to contend against warbands, because they won''t be put down until all the Citadels are taken, and the neutral armies guarding the enemy. However, with your starting Champions, those problems should be easy enough to surmount. They can kill their way through those mobs and creeps with ease, roll the dice, and whether the Artifact is good or not... it''s an Artifact the enemy''s not going to get.


    However, the best part was that I had a great alibi for it.


    The places where my former Warband intended to go after all of this, and where they went before, were perfect for my plan.


    ?


    Riegert looked over the map I''d made, while I fretted behind my desk.


    "Your cartography has improved. You say that these are the places your warband went to, before you were freed? And, the places they were going to go?"


    "Yes, sir!" I beamed at him. A part of me was worried that he wouldn''t connect the dots, so I let the mask loose a little bit. Just a little. Conspiratorially, I whispered to him. "I think these are places where artifacts are. We always looked for things like that."


    "A reasonable guess. Your leader had to acquire the key to the Citadel somehow¡­ these are places that merit investigation." Riegert didn''t ask. He took the map I''d been working on. It was a power play, but I didn''t mind. He acknowledged that he took something from me. He was a bastard who set me up to be a meatshield, but he wasn''t a complete asshole. "I''ll take a look at these things. If we find anything, you''ll get your fair share, Jack."


    Jack.


    Not prince.


    I was almost enthused by the acknowledgement that I was getting fucked over.


    Not.


    I swallowed by anticipation and fear, so that I could make use of the little bargaining power that I had.


    "W-wait, I don''t want those things! Ummm¡­ I want to go outside, just a little! I don''t want to stay here forever!" I hoped that my little lie nine months ago weighed on Riegert''s mind. I''d told them I wanted to travel. Right now, I hoped he knew that he was crushing my dreams. I pinched my thigh hard and let the waterworks build up. Crocodile tears were beyond me. Tearing up? That was within my ability, though. "At least, let me see what the town is like!"


    "Nice try, kid. That''s not happening, especially with the locals getting more restless. I know that you can tell that we''re stopping a lot of assassination attempts on you. You''ll lose your life the moment you step out of this place." Fuck. It didn''t work. This guy didn''t have any problem not caring about what I thought. Still, though, he was addressing me and acknowledging me as a person, which I could use. "How about this: if I find anything that can keep you from getting murdered by walking outside, we''ll see about arranging some trips for you."


    "That''s¡­ that''s¡­ fine." I let out a breath, while Riegert gave a nod and left me to my massive office. The guards at the door gave him salutes, before scanning the area and beginning their routes again. No stone unturned. No shadow avoided. No privacy. Even in the bath or in my room, there was a guard ready at the door. I couldn''t even curse. "Okay."


    Thankfully, I''ve been infuriated more times that I cared to count in this life and the last.


    After a moment, I took a look at the bright side of things.


    Riegert and everyone else was going to strengthen themselves up, keep guarding my life, and gimp the early-game of our neighboring regions. Sure, I made the prison holding me as a meatshield a bit stronger, but if the prison went down, I''d die too. It cost me, but it was a better move than doing nothing, and letting priceless, powerful Artifacts get equipped by freaks of nature that head entire armies.


    It was a decent result, which was all that I could ask for.


    ?


    The fourth turn ended, winter began to wane, and spring began.


    Ghor Khanrow walked out of the wall of the Citadel in a casual display of his mastery of the place, while I looked into the town below.


    "Tell me all the sites you recall." As I thought, Riegert found artifacts in each and every location I set on the map. The game devs didn''t have much of a budget, so they had to make the same competitive and campaign map. It wasn''t until the third expansion that you can randomize landmasses and switch up artifact contention areas. "Now."


    "O-okay." I reached for my cartography lessons, but Ghor gestured at my table and the surface came alive to become a three-dimensional map of the whole region. "This is¡ª


    "You''re keeping the ones in this region secret, because you want them as leverage." Ghor stated. No, I omitted that information to make sure you took the ones from potential enemies first. But, I wasn''t going to correct him. "Tell me where they are and you will be rewarded."


    Bargaining crossed my mind, but the fleshy guards of my room leaving and being replaced by pure-white, thin-limbed puppets that I recognized as Citadel Guardians, I knew I couldn''t.


    Those were the anti-rush, T3, undeployable guard units for the Citadels.


    I''ll be dead before I could do a thing against them or Ghor.


    There was only one option for me.


    As always.


    "Here, here, here, and here." I touched the specific areas with knowledge I could only have from thousands of hours of using the same map. I did my best to look frustrated at losing a bargaining chip as I did. "A-and, maybe here and here. I don''t know anywhere else."


    "Hm. Fine. It''s good enough." Khanrow eyed me down, but soon nodded, and moved to leave the room. The spindly, freaky units that were his guards didn''t complain in the slightest as they moved to leave just moments after arriving. "You asked for the right to enter the town, correct? Your request is granted. I''ll get it done, even if I have to kill all the threats to your life."


    With the promise of genocide hanging in the air, Khanrow left as quickly as he arrived.


    And, so, the fifth turn of the game began.


    Another Citadel will rise soon and everything was going to change.

 Chapter 7

    Chapter 7


    ¡­


    Freedom tasted like shit-tinged air.


    "My lord, please don''t stray too far from us."


    I strode in the streets of a "Slum" district. It was the last one around the Citadel, since the "Resident" district was built. According to the wiki, the Slum tile was effective at holding large amounts of population, but decreased happiness, increased crime, and made it easier for foreign powers to infiltrate your town or city. Since the espionage debuff was lost around the Citadel, in early game rush strategies, slums were simply a fact of the matter.


    So, if any of the other factions with Citadels had slums, I''ll be sure to sick Khanrow on them.


    "Okay, I''ll stay close everyone!" I nodded. After another turn/3 months of practice, I was getting scarily good at acting like a kid. Nine more months and I''ll be ten. When I was ten in my last life, I was doing chores and couldn''t act childish anymore, but here it was just treated as a matter of fact. Even thought most kids were already working one way or another. "Keep me safe, okay?"


    "Yes, my liege." The head of my guards gave a nod, resisting the urge to bow, and followed me further into the slum tile. We walked through a few haphazard blocks of rickety housing, on muddy and shitty roads, until he spoke again. "May I ask what we''re looking for?"


    "Oh, I just had a strange feeling about this place. That''s all." My choice of words had him glance over his shoulder towards the disguised guards following us in plain clothes. While the two of us were cloaked and covered in mud, they wore ragged tunics and had bandages on their limbs, and limped slowly behind us. Some stayed in the shadows, or waited on the rooftops. Khanrow''s was scrupulous in his creation of guard details. "Don''t worry. I have a good feeling about this place. "


    That made the man relax a little.


    Ever since the successful artifact hunts, a rumor started that I had some sort of ability. Some people called it a form of prescience and others called it luck. Whatever the rumor was, I capitalized on it and started talking about my knowledge of events more thoroughly. It was a meagre amount of control over the whole faction, but it was all I had, so I leveraged it and nurtured it with care.


    Which led back to the slums.


    In the early game, there was an event that could occur if you let slums last for more than five turns.


    By my count, by the time Khanrow took control of the Citadel, it was now the sixth.


    If it was happening, it was happening now.


    We travelled into the slums, towards its center, where a haphazard village center was built for the sake of merchants, small feeding areas, and public events. It was tidier than the rest of the slums, because it was a public space everyone actually gave a shit about. However, it was still in the slums, and I was used to the Citadel after more than a year living in it.


    Thankfully, a year in luxury didn''t eradicate eight years digging through battlefields for scraps.


    Some of the guards struggled and gagged, but I went through the place barely blinking.


    Anyway, I cast my gaze around the square and spotted the event.


    Or, rather, the beginnings of it.


    "Look, performers!" I pointed at a bunch of brightly dressed folk with a smile, even though I was screaming on the inside. On the surface, this event was fun and jolly. A bunch of masked performers arrived at a slum and increased happiness for four turns or so. That was a good event for players who rushed, but it was also a wake-up call to not keep your people despondent in slums. These harlequins arrived three times. The first three times they just performed and raised the happiness in a slum district. If they arrived for a third time, then you better have an army and hero stationed at your Citadel that''s ready to fight against five Assassin Champions. "Let''s go see them!"


    "Followers of the Smiling Tyrant? How did they slip through our borders?" The guards were quick to assemble around me and put themselves between me and the performers. That attracted the attention of the cadre instantly and they looked towards us with ominous synchronicity. A horror movie string wouldn''t have been out of place with their sudden move. "Stay behind us, and begin moving away slowly. These people are beyond our ability to defeat."


    Yeah, one of the developers were too into overpriced minis with ridiculous, depressing lore.


    And, who didn''t understand fair-use.


    But that wasn''t the point of the situation.


    "Aww, but I want to see them play! Look, everyone''s coming to see!" There were three options in the event. Generic intimidate, persuade, and neutral options. The intimidate and persuasive options didn''t matter. These guys couldn''t care less what you said to them. The only one that opened dialogue and got you a special district was the neutral option. And, I wanted that special district, because it was fantastic all throughout the game. "Come on, everyone! Start setting up seats and buying food for everyone!"


    My guard captain was about to refuse, but I was quick to make his opinion invalid, but taking off my hood.


    Whispers and gasps were quick to fill the public square in the slums.


    It was easy to notice why.


    Most of the denizens of this place were dirty peasants. Most of them were scarred, not only from wounds, but illness. Chipped and yellow teeth were the norm. Skin tanned into leather was also common. Not only that, but most people reeked to high heavens and had hair closer to wire than what I considered to be normal.


    Meanwhile, I''ve gone out of my way to cultivate everything that I had to use for my ends.


    Daily workouts, careful meal planning, and hygiene maintenance. I pulled out all the stops. I made sure to eat primarily fruit and vegetables, with lean meat and some fat to ensure that I wasn''t malnourished. For workouts, I devoted myself to every PE exercise I could remember and did my best to recall all the workout videos I''d put on, but never used. I sourced oil just to aerate it into a lotion and conditioner, found a soapmaker to make something that wouldn''t ruin my skin, and generally devoted myself into looking good inside and out.


    Needless to say, just taking off my hood and revealing my face in the slum was like unveiling a shining pearl in the midst of muck.


    Beauty is a weapon.


    I need weapons.


    "Hello, there! My name is Jack!" I beamed at the troupe with a pure white smile and a completely unblemished face. What scars I had faded, then I applied the healing artifact on myself until even those blemishes went away. My hair was neat, but unlike most, it flowed with the breeze instead of matting against my skull. Then, finally, removing my coat revealed a lithe and strong form in well-fitted clothes. I exuded cuteness for now, but I fully intended to leverage being attractive later in life. It was one of the few assets that Khanrow and Ghor couldn''t take from me. "Can I see your act today, please?"


    C''mon.


    Take my offer.


    I want an entertainment district that unlocks evasion-based assassin troupes, especially ones that have the only skill in the game that lets them avoid unit collision!


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    These guys are practically essential for murdering enemy Champions and generals without paying out the nose!


    ?


    Illych peered down at me, while the crowd dispersed from the after party without a word. The entertainers, which had been here moments ago, vanished with them. Meanwhile, my guards were all kneeling with heads bowed at my back.


    "The winds are displeased with you." Illych''s words were dull and blunt, but they made the men shiver. Both my guards and her personal retinue. Clad in black plate from head to toe, holding an eagle-winged helm in one arm, and her hand on her blade, she loomed over me. Much like Riegert and the other Champions, she''s at the pinnacle of her race. Longer lived, taller, and mightier in every respect¡­ and she''s also a cut above her own father. "You placed yourself in danger, Jack."


    "I just wanted to see a show, Illy!" I whined like a child. It took a lot of practice to do without cringing, but I managed without vomiting. The trick is to fake-swallow while giving the cutest smile. Augh, sometimes I just want to die. "Did you see some of it? It was amazing!"


    I already knew the answer, but I prodded Illych to speak.


    "I do not care." Blunt and without a hint of empathy, Illych picked me up by the scruff of my tunic. Before I knew it, I was swaddled in my own coat, wrapped up tight, and held in one hand. I met her when she was 13, so now she''s about to be 16. She''s closer to seven feet than six, and had two more years of growth. Seven feet in a world with the average at 5. Yeah, she had the Giant''s Blood. Riegert was a freak. I didn''t know whether to shake his hand, or stay the hell away from him. "I am taking you back to the Citadel."


    "Awww!" I pouted and acted cute, crossing my arms while held against finely-forged armor. It was painted a metallic color, but it was actually made from the Citadel''s materials. Light and nearly indestructible, the person wearing it was more likely to turn to pulp than it breaking, even if it was just a few millimeters thin. It was only a slight advantage for most people, letting them be more mobile. For Illych, if she had the traits I suspected, she had enough armor value to facetank Tier 2.5s, maybe Tier 3s. "Don''t be mean, Illy!"


    "I am not mean." She responded in her usual, dull timbre, but there was a spark in her eyes. Something beyond being a golem dedicated to following the voices in her head. It was a long shot, but when my chances were low in everything I could do, then I had to take every shot that I was provided. Hopefully, I could make her hesitate for a second if she went to murder me, and I hoped that I could make that second count. "We are returning now."


    "Okay, but first¡­ I want to invite them back for more shows! Everyone loved them here, but everyone will love them more in the nicer places!" There was no pop-up menu to tell me I succeed, let alone an achievement bell coming up to tell me I completed the event. All I could do was try and force the good ending of the event to happen. "Captain Lukas, take the rest of my allowance and give them payment. Tell them to come back, so that they can keep everyone happy!"


    I tossed the young man my purse, which was heavy golden coins.


    Twenty or so.


    Enough to commission a whole division of basic spearmen.


    Training, equipment, and pay for a whole military section that cost only 2 to upkeep per turn.


    In other words, an absolute, fucking fortune.


    Since I was being plucked out of this situation before I could finish it, then I needed to try and throw money at the problem until it wasn''t.


    Truly, I''m a genius.


    Not.


    But it was all I could do.


    "Y-yes, my liege!"


    I waited for Illych to reach out for the pouch and take it back, but the budding half-giant just turned around to take me away.


    I let loose a sigh, while leaving fate to settle the issue.


    Surprisingly, although I expected to be spirited away without a word, Illych spoke to me after gesturing her retinue to take a step back.


    "Father has sent a message. He found a new artifact. One that links with your staff."


    "Oh, I can give it back, if he wants!"


    "No. You will be receiving the new one and learning how to use them together."


    "Okay."


    My feigned disappointment was ignored, but it was important to do anyway. Acting differently around lllych was just asking for trouble. I couldn''t trust her, given her mental issues.


    Anyway, after having those orders relayed to me, I expected the be sped towards the Citadel in silence.


    Only for Illych to suddenly turn around and take a knee, while keeping me protected with her armored frame.


    The plinks of arrows against armor resounded against her back, and just as noises of surprise came forth from the would-be assassins, the noise of knife ends between gauntleted fingers reached me.


    There was another moment of movement on Illych''s part, while she kept me hidden behind her black-armored frame with her helm applied in the brief moments between.


    Four pairs of knives streaked towards the roofline of the slums, beneath the red-tinged dusky sky, and a moment later six bodies fell onto the ground. The throwing knives, made for Illych''s size and strength, didn''t just pierce. They punched holes through the mortal assassins. The entrance and exit wounds were large enough for a child''s arm to go through with effort.


    "Two are strong. Run to the guards." Illych grunted through her helm, before reaching for her sword. Two shadows rose slipped through the cracks between slum buildings. They flowed like water on the muddy streets. A flame enshrouded Illych''s swords. I knew for a fact that she could win this battle. These guys were Tier 1¡­ but I wasn''t going to take any chances with my life. I nodded. "Good."


    I planned to run with all my might, but the situation changed once more.


    Laughter resounded through the streets, and from the rooftops came forth the troupe clad in incandescent colors with rictus masks of porcelain contorted into smiles and frowns.


    In a moment, they came upon the assassins, and with flashing blades that reminded me more of light than metal, pierced and killed the shadows.


    A thought occurred to me, as they killed the assassins with ease.


    The guards were so far away.


    Illych couldn''t kill these Jesters, and they should have the skill to disengage from battles without incurring any losses.


    This was a fine chance to escape, and all I had to do was call out to them.


    But, as Illych began to lower her blade and the troupe approached, I came to a sudden realization.


    Not about the luxuries that I had now, but the safety that I had compared to what these wandering minstrels of the Smiling Tyrant.


    They could kill assassins¡­ but they couldn''t field armies or ravage hundreds to protect me.


    So, with a heavy heart, I swallowed my cry for help.


    No, I couldn''t ask them to help me run.


    But¡­ I could certainly do my best to get them on my side.

 Chapter 8

    Chapter 8:


    ¡­


    The Elves.


    Why did it have to be the fucking Elves.


    "Aggressive today, my lord?"


    "S-sorry!"


    "Don''t be. It''s better."


    "Thank you!"


    I struck at my training dummy with more force at those words. Although I wasn''t expected to be on the frontline, everyone wanted me to at least be capable of a little self-defense. They didn''t want me to become a martyr with a dagger in my back. They wanted it right on my heart, so it could be more dramatic.


    But I couldn''t deny the fact that it might help me save my life in the future, so I trained.


    And, with the lack of podcasts, streams, or music to distract me, I focused on the problem at hand.


    As usual, the first enemy faction spawned on fifth turn, which was two turns ago. With how long it took to travel across the world, half a year passed before I got a hold of the information that I needed. Riegert returned and dropped off my new Artifact, gave the rest to Khanrow, and went off again. Illych was sent off to gather the ones close, and the Residential Districts were finished and the production-type Districts were set to be constructed.


    After the District for the Smiling Tyrant was finished.


    Increased defense against all threats, including espionage.


    Increased happiness from secured luxuries.


    Access to Assassin units with sufficient reputation with the minor faction and the relevant tech.


    Perfect early game advantage.


    "At the very least, I have some overpowered bullshit on my own side." I muttered to myself, when I noticed my trainer not paying attention. Unfortunately, the developers subscribed to the exageratted standard of Elves. They were, in essence, immortal supersoldiers that were perfect in every way. If I recalled the lore correctly, these guys didn''t even die when they were killed. They just ascended and went to their version of heaven. The bigger problem, though, is that they used their immortal lifespans to master every skill they wanted, among other things. "Ain''t that a silver lining?"


    Even if my trainer overheard, I was practicing English and pretending it was my tribal dialect as a child.


    Was another language at my disposal going to be useful?


    I had no clue, but it didn''t hurt to have.


    Anyway, back to the Elves.


    They were the steamroller faction, and anyone who said their early game is weak is an apologist. The best way to deal with one such individual is to cut their home power cable and compromise their modem. Is it terrible to suggest that someone should be cut off from the internet? Absolutely not. The less mouth-breathing sycophants who say things regardless of the truth on the internet the better, especially if they''re working for Elves.


    Elves, in short, are a quality-over-quantity faction, but with enough micro and good enough strategies, they make up for their quantity deficiency really quickly. Even in the early game, where they''ll struggle to field full-strength armies, a good enough player can kite them well enough for survival rates to go through the roof.


    They had the best Tier 1 ranged infantry, Elvish Longbows, and professional players and no-life streamers can easily use a stack of them to devastate AI on the hardest difficulty. In professional games, two or three competing players will gang up on the Elvish player, just to keep them off balance or take them out of the game.


    Because, while everyone else''s units could gain three ranks of veterancy over the course of a game, Elvish Units could get five and their upgrade costs to higher tiers of units were lowered. Veterancy increased health, armor, damage, firing speed, and probably even dick size, because the Elves were specially designed to fuck over everyone else if they weren''t dealt with first.


    And, they wanted to do it.


    Elvish AI is geared towards domination, faith, and cultural victories. They weren''t good at diplomacy, because they were stuck up pricks who didn''t think any other species was worth their time. They got the basic bitch diplomacy tree, because it''s all they can manage, while everything they could use to bludgeon everyone else into submission was enhanced. They ally opportunistically, only to face greater threats, and backstab moments after that threat is dealt with.


    In short, this world was looking pretty fucked.


    We needed a solid coalition of well-built civilizations to overcome the final challenge this world was going to throw at us, as well as ones that didn''t waste their time researching tech trees that they''ll never use.


    We were down one civilization capable of contributing to stopping the end of the world already.


    Needless to say, the rest of my physical training for the day went pretty well.


    I had a lot of frustration to vent.


    ?


    Study, train, smile for portraits, and recount my sad, life story.


    That was my usual day, and there was no difference for my tenth birthday.


    Or, so I thought.


    I waited for my first lesson of the day to start when Khanrow arrived at my room after securing it with his super-loyal, artificial guards.


    "A feast will be prepared for your upcoming birthday. A dignitary from the Children of the Elm will be honored guests. You will astound them and convince them we can be allies."


    A year ago I would''ve nodded and smiled.


    But, I wasn''t stupid enough to think that Khanrow still believed in my act.


    "That''s impossible! The Children of the Elm only trust themselves!" Potato, poh-tay-toe, pah-tay-toe. No matter what they were called here, Elves were Elves. Forest-loving racial supremacists that nerds wanted to fuck. Hippies that were rich, didn''t smell, and would dominate them. Man, I wish nerds had less fetishes. This world would be a lot easier to handle. At least, with their standards, most of them will die out without spreading their ideas to the next generation. "I-I have a few tricks up my sleeve, and I''m pretty smart, but that''s not enough."


    "Then, try your utmost to not appear weak and ineffectual. The dignitary they are sending is ten times your age twice over. A graduate from the Academy." Oh, for fuck''s sake. I had to entertain the equivalent of a superhuman amongst superhumans. "Here are records of her previous interactions with rising politics. None had Citadels."


    "But, is that enough for them to not plot to kill us all in a century or two?" That was how Elvish interactions and diplomacy with other civilizations went. They set things up a few decades down the line. They''re more than happy to just wait for great people to die and harvest the plunder from a weakened kingdom after the loss of their leader. Hell, they might even wait until the third generation to fuck over the enemy. That wasn''t in play at this point, of course. I''d be lucky to hit fifty on a deserted island somewhere with the current timetable. "Sir, please, being their allies is just impossible."


    Khanrow glared at me, surprising me, but I stood by my word.


    It was a test, since he nodded after a moment.


    "That''s true. They''re not to be trusted. They''re clever, cunning, and have time on their side. Nearly insurmountable advantages when combined, however, we can make use of that." Khanrow''s eye glinted and I felt like a lead ball dropped into my stomach. "If we cannot be allies, then they must perceive us as complete fools that they can use to their delight."


    For fuck''s sake, now I had to act like an idiot while being a body-double!?


    "That¡­ that can work." I had to admit that it was a good idea. From my memories of the game, simping for the Elves was a good way to delay their inevitable betrayal, at least against the AI. Empires that invested enough in their diplomacy tree, which was always a good idea, could delay the inevitable until they had a large enough military to murder the Elves. Backstab before being backstabbed, while having a few more friends at your back than they did. The best way to win, in my humble opinion. Yeah, doing a Julius Caesar on the Elves sounded pretty good. "But what do you mean exactly, my lord?"


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Khanrow nodded.


    "You''ll be acting as though you''ve fallen for the diplomat at first sight. The fact that so many believe you''re a boy king without any true worth will be to our advantage." Amazing, Khanrow was insulting me with every breath, while ordering me to do something at the same time. The workplace toxicity going on here was off the charts. Also, I have no clue what human ethnicity I''m in now. Certainly not what I used to be¡­ if I recall correctly. Whatever. I''ll deal with the identity crisis and possible cultural appropriation allegations when I''m not going to die. "You''ve much experience in playing the thoughtless fool. Continue to do so when the Elves arrive and curry favor with them. I will prepare a means to combat them, if they do not act as patiently as we expect."


    If they don''t put a plan forward that''ll take decades, was what Khanrow meant.


    And, as much as I hated the idea¡­ I couldn''t come up with one better.


    Was it going to be harrowing to act like a lovestruck fool to a species that saw me as a lesser race fit only to be ruled over?


    Absolutely.


    Did I have any better ideas to set up a backstab before being backstabbed?


    No.


    So, I just had to commit to the bit.


    ?


    Big, blonde tiddy Elf waifu that''s miraculously a virgin for 1000 years waiting for the perfect man, but willing to drop panties the moment you ask.


    Vs.


    Literal demon-worshipping enslavers that deserved to be wiped off the planet with extreme prejudice.


    Those are about the two ends of the spectrum for Elves.


    The Children of the Elm (without mods), as I said before, are mostly ripped from Tolkien (without mods), so they hit the middle of the spectrum (without mods).


    By the way, my mental friend, can you guess what spectrum the mods usually take the Elves?


    Anyway, Khanrow didn''t hold back when it came to preparing to receive the Elves.


    Everyone had been worried that another Citadel getting conquered and control would return everything to open warfare with pools of civilization here and there. It was the classic naysaying and doom-and-gloom that humanity liked to partake in whenever anything got difficult. Khanrow had a tight ship, though, and there wasn''t any private corporations with platforms that could have millions hear the same thing in existence.


    With a bit of good, old-fashioned censorship, the rumors were quashed for the most part, and before that wore off he declared our intentions to ally and work together with the Elves.


    Everyone who wasn''t aware that the Elves were duplicitous backstabbers who were just patient beyond belief sighed in relief.


    Mostly everyone, since illiteracy was about 90% in this world, and Elves had the lifespans necessary to get rid of all the books they wanted.


    But back to the festival.


    It was a huge, lumbering affair that encompassed the whole city. The plebeians enjoyed a week on bread and circuses. The new entertainment/assassin district was more than happy to take money and arrange plays all over the city, while food was sourced from farmers at premium prices, making them quite happy too. The better-off, if they had even a modicum of influence, were allowed into the inner walls that separated the districts from the Citadel proper, and they enjoyed massive tents filled with entertainment, free gifts, and more food than they could eat.


    Naturally, only the most powerful and influential were allowed into the lobby of the Citadel itself.


    So, me, surrounded by all Khanrow''s various patsies and loyal servants, while we waited for the Elvish delegation.


    A delegation that matched the festival in grandeur.


    I didn''t see it for myself, but it was a parade that blazed through the city that looked to rival the celebration that we sent. The increased cultural influence of the Elves made more sense when their escort riders were said to do impromptu horse races and rallies for the common folk, while some archers started doing contests out of the blue. The wagons they brought gave out delicacies chefs with hundreds of years of experience made, while their delegate charmed whole crowds with a mere smile.


    We were being outplayed in our concert with home field advantage, because every single Elf had enough time to learn every trick and trade in the world.


    If I were the leader of this place, I''d be seething with all my preparations coming undone.


    But that was Khanrow''s problem.


    My only problem was selling falling in love at first sight like a ten-year old.


    I mean, sure, I was a nerd in my past life, so I had some experience in swooning over women like an idiot¡­ but ten years of ignoring women to grind out stats still affects a man.


    Also, no puberty yet, so brain still thinks girls are icky.


    Well, whatever.


    The delegate''s arrival was announced, the grand doors to the Citadel opened at my (seeming) command, and the Elves entered the Citadel.


    Led by my archnemesis.


    The Champion that ruined hundreds of ironman, hard playthroughs for me.


    The absolute monster that I had assassinated like clockwork thousands of times after learning my lesson again and again.


    The Bow Bitch herself.


    Fucking +40m Range to archers is a cheap-ass, broken skill that needs to be removed¡­ not have three more ranks that give archers +100m total range when maxed!


    She can upgrade attack speed too, which is just bullshit!


    Might as well give the Elves machine guns with perfect accuracy!


    Tari of House Rylor, the Chosen of the Elm, and bane of my damn existence in my last life and this one too.


    "Greetings, Lord Regent Jack of the White Tower. The Children of the Elm greet you and are honored to be the guests of your fine city, an oasis of peace in these war-torn lands." Snow-white, straight hair that reached the small of her back. Red eyes. Unblemished skin. Wrapped up in green-dyed leather and tall brown boots, along with a cape and hood. Fetish bait. Barely needs to be modded. Hell, most modders have separate files for whether you want her altered or not. Some people banded together to bribe her VA to do ASMR, so they could replace her voice lines. In other words, she was dozens of fetishes wrapped up into one. "My name is Tari of House Rylor, I greet you and hope that our peoples may lead these lands together into peace and harmony."


    All of your victories involve all the other races subjugated and becoming lower castes.


    Your pure domination victory with your special project results in everyone else being slowly sterilized and fucking phased out.


    Fuck it.


    I''m rebelling and playing the absolute wrong card against these supremacists.


    Is this a totally bad idea?


    Yeah.


    But even if they''re pretty and talented, they''re still this world''s fashion-forward fascists with a fetish for genocide.


    "Hello, my name''s Jack! You''re¡­ you''re all pretty pretty, but not as much as everyone said!"


    Let''s.


    Fucking.


    Go.


    Time to force Khanrow to kill these guys in the early game by acting like a moron!


    And, if I die, at least I''m not dying a slave twice over¡­ and I''ll be killing a lot of Elves while a I do!

 Chapter 9:

    Chapter 9


    Interlude: Tari


    ?


    "How goes your mission?"


    "Very well, my lord. I''ve taken the measure of this land." Having yet to recapture our past glory, my lord and I conversed with one another through an intermediary. He spoke to me through a raven raised as his familiar. He saw and heard through it and spoke through its tongue. "The boy king of these lands is as malleable as you foresaw."


    "Good. That he was not enthralled by our beauty is meaningless then. We will lure them to a swift death and take the second spire as our own." My lord''s words usually filled me with relief. Oddly, today it gave me a different sensation entirely: concern. "Speak, my champion. Your eyes betray your thoughts. What do you fear?"


    I took a deep breath.


    "It seems too perfect, like prey has appeared before us that we can easily bring low. Bait." From the moment they neared the city, all had seemed well. The lesser beings tried to compete with us and failed. Their boy-king was a fool who was undeserving of control over the Citadel. The true power lay with the officers of the former commander and they opposed each other, aiming to take control of the unworthy heir. "Forgive my impertinence, but perhaps we can continue with our primary plan?"


    "Hm. You are capable of bearing the insult of your beauty not being unparalleled for your nation¡­ but as your lord, I cannot stand for such words." My lord spoke to me. I could see his fist clenching and teeth gritting, despite being so far away. My heart sang at his concern for me, even though nothing could ever arise from between him and I. "I cannot have you act kindly to the fool. We shall do as we planned. With their Academy graduate away, and his fearsome daughter scavenging what is rightfully ours, we shall retake the gifts of our ancestors."


    "Then, my lord, your will shall be done."


    "Go forth and retake what is ours, my loyal subject."


    I bowed my head and magic fled the raven''s form. It was exhausted and almost fell from its perch. Tenders immediately approached it to tend and care for it. If it perished, then we would have no way to speak with our lord, for we did not yet regain the secrets of our people.


    Once we could speak to one another from across the world entire, but that ability is lost to us.


    But soon, especially with the retaking of this second spire, we shall return the world to our rightful rule.


    I left the tent and my friends and comrades were ready to hear the words of our liege.


    The people of this land believed that we were diplomats, but in truth, we were more than that.


    All of us gathered here were warriors and veterans of more conflicts than the creatures here had years to live.


    This land will be taken by us.


    Even if the boy-king knew how to use the venerable golems within the Citadel, as long as one of us stood and took the ring from him after, then it shall be our victory.


    And, the world in its entirety will soon be ours once again.


    ?


    When the glow of the moon was dimmest, we began our strike.


    Through the deepest shadows, we sent ourselves through the lands of our lessers.


    They knew nothing of melding with nature. They hewed stone and wood into boxes, let filth flow beneath their streets, and clad themselves in metal.


    With no living things to warn them of our approach, we made our way to the inner walls guarding the spire.


    We were ready to surmount it, kill the guards, and attack the spire while its temporary master slept and was unable to mount a defense.


    Instead a scream echoed from our backline, and we halted in sight of the white walls of our ancestors.


    "Hold and come together!" I ordered my troops. We came together as groups of five, and cast our gazes around ourselves, and each other. Soon enough, I caught sight of the farthest group in the back coming towards the group closest to them. They were four in number. "Go forth and return with news!"


    My runner went as I bid him to, but as he split¡­ the walls around us came undone.


    Brittle, dead wood broke and unveiled armored soldiers of our base kin.


    "Ambush! Forward, now!" I gave the only call I could as both our flanks surged with foes. Their armor deflected swift arrow shots bereft of concentration. Our bodies were not meant for the rigors of beasts. Close combat favored the invaders of our sacred soil. We needed distance. "Scale the walls!"


    My group rushed forward at my command. I drew my bow and slew all I could, but I focused on clearing a path.


    My skill, my talent, and my years of training allowed me to pierce through the foes rushing towards me with ease. I sent a bolt forward into a visor, and as it claimed its victim, I already slew another. I took my arrows and plunged them into my foes like short spears. All my years of battle allowed me to break through¡­ but my heart fell with every scream that came behind me.


    With axes and swords, the base creatures butchered my people. Their blood ran across uncaring stone, never returning to the soil, and their beauty was undone as their bodies broken apart. Unlike those who hunted us for our beauty and power, these people hacked us apart, and made it clear that they were warriors and soldiers true.


    But¡­ from where did these fearsome soldiers come from!?


    How were we so unaware of them¡ª


    "Tari. Good to see you again." I reached the end of the long street only to feel my heart cease. Riegert stood at the end. His massive frame almost blotted out the torchlight held by other blackguards at the end of the street. The halberd he used on horseback was nowhere to be found. Instead, on his shoulder, was a massive double-headed axe. He knew that he had to make use of greatest weapon here. "I don''t suppose that you''d care to surrender?"


    The footsteps behind me ceased.


    I looked behind me assured me that my fears were well founded.


    Three lines of warriors, ten wide, remained of my forces of nearly a hundred.


    The trap had claimed our victory in an instant.


    Now, it threatened to give us dishonorable deaths.


    "Riegert, you know better than anyone that we do not surrender."


    "Mhmm, well, it was worth a shot." Riegert wielded the massive axe with one hand and took his tome out with the other. With but a passing moment, the darkened street came alight with weapons covered in flame¡­ and I took note of another creature behind us nearly Riegert''s height. "Oh, right. Meet my daughter. Illych. I''ve taught her most of what I know."


    Riegert came forth and unshouldered his axe. The flames that suffused it licked stone and melted it with ease.


    I called upon the winds to guide my arrows and protect me, but cold lead settled in my stomach.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    This battle was beyond us.


    All we could do now was run¡ª


    A scream interrupted my thoughts, and I turned towards it.


    Illych, Riegert''s daughter, had crashed into my backline and tore through it in an instant. The sword that she used cleaved through my warriors with ease, and the weapons aimed at her were turned away by her armor. They used the materials of the spire to craft even stronger armor for their people.


    My warriors died, incapable of even fighting back, when Riegert spoke again while stepping towards me ready for battle.


    Shame filled me¡­ as I realized what I had to do, so that I could somehow exact retribution in the far future.


    I could only entrust my people''s future to my Lord now, while biding my time for vengeance.


    So, I cast down my bow and raised my hands in surrender towards Riegert.


    Time and patience will have to do what cunning could not¡ª


    A heartbeat passed and I realized that my actions did nothing.


    Another heartbeat, before I could speak, and I realized that Riegert had raised his axe high.


    He knew that I wouldn''t surrender, placed the idea in my mind, just for this singular strike.


    It fell towards me without a word coming from his lips.


    Nor a glimmer of shame or apology in his eyes.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert.


    ?


    "Well¡­ this has gone well."


    The scent of blood filled the air, while I quickly did my duty.


    Tira''s body was light as a feather, and I interred her into the Artifact my men prepared at my back.


    The Shroud of Undeath, a legend lost to time, which we found mere weeks ago¡­ was now set to be used by us.


    We had no Necromancers, let alone Liches, who could use it to its greatest effect, but I knew enough of necromancy''s basic principles to make use of the Artifact.


    Tira will be no more. Her talent, skill, and memories will be lost, but her potential, possibility, and strong connection to the glory of the ancients will remain.


    She will become a mighty officer on our side, capable of leading armies like Illych and myself, mere months after reviving.


    Still, this was all but a declaration of war against the Children of the Elm.


    "Father, I am finished here." Ilych interrupted my thoughts. Her strength and power was without doubt now. Over the last few years, her strong ties to the ancients became more apparent. Once my research bears fruit, my daughter will have all the strength and power she was meant to have from birth. When that day comes, I will never have to worry for her after a battle anymore. "The winds say to send the signal."


    "Ah, right. Thanks." I gave Ilych a nod, before firing a bolt of flame high into the air. I waited a moment and a loud, single gong resounded from the Citadel. Khanrow understood that we were successful. Only time will tell if his agents managed to kill the rest of the caravan. What few of them that stayed back weren''t warriors, but our faraway cousins were quick on their feet. "So, how does fighting against the Children of the Elm feel?"


    "Fast. Vitals need to be guarded. Overwhelming force and narrow environment limited their movement. Far more difficult to fight on an open field." Barring her strange assertion that she could speak to the winds, Illych''s mind was sharp. Sharper than mine. Only the kid''s head seemed to rival Illych, but he was a rarity. "In open battle, the cavalry will fare the best. Land-based."


    "Sounds about right. Aerial charges will just be a waste of riders and mounts. Best to bury them beneath armored warhorses and plate, maybe some faster auxiliaries right behind." I instructed her and she listened with her usual, dull gaze. After so many years, I was able to see some things others didn''t. The slight twitch of the lips. The lightest wrinkling of a brow. For Ilych, that was the same as a chuckle at her success, before focusing on important information. "Don''t worry. That bit''s advanced tactics. I''ll tell you more about it later, since we''re going to be fighting these guys."


    Ilych nodded, but paused a moment later.


    I knew the look.


    She was listening to the "Wind."


    I waited for her to speak, and ready to face her if needed.


    "The winds tell of a great battle against the Children of the Elm. We must prepare for it, or we will perish and be destroyed."


    I sighed in relief, until I realized my daughter was not yet finished.


    "We must strike now, fight now, and destroy them while they are weak. All four of us must strike at the Citadel together and strike down its lord with five seasons." Ilych spoke with authority and knowledge without source, yet her words carried weight nonetheless. The insistence in her gaze made me wonder if the Ancients left something invisible behind that we never found. A form of knowledge that could only be heard by those with the strongest bloodlines. A spirit of sorts. "We must march now. Tell this to Lord Khanrow. He must stay and defend, while we march."


    Khanrow remaining here surprised me.


    "I thought Jack needed to stay here?" My daughter''s interest in Jack was something I encouraged. She rarely cared for other people, especially those close to her age. While I wanted her to live as long as the ancients did, I did not want her to be alone in all those years. She needed equals and comrades to help her achieve what she set out to achieve. "Shouldn''t he stay while Lord Kharnow comes with us?"


    Ilych shook her head.


    "The winds spoke and I shall listen." Ilych''s intent was clear and demanding. "Father, please."


    "I''ll tell him. I''m sure that he''s thinking the same thing. They tried to take our land the moment they got in reach. We have to do the same, if we don''t want to make ourselves a target¡­ and we''ll need to win, if we want everyone else to back off." Khanrow told me that there was a race for other Citadels now. Everyone wanted a piece of the pie, especially after they saw all that we accomplished. If they did nothing, they''ll be swept up in the tide, while we took everything for ourselves. The strength the Citadel provided, the allure it had to the people tired of war, was greater than anyone could''ve imagined. "Well, the kid made all this happen, and he''ll hate risking his neck¡­ so I''m sure Khanrow will be more than happy to send the kid off to battle."


    Ilych nodded, making me worry if she didn''t see the kid as anyone worth protecting anymore, until she spoke again.


    "He will have nothing to fear. I will keep him safe." Ilych intoned and cast her gaze to the Citadel. I was sure that she was looking towards the kid''s gilded cage. "The winds will it."


    "I see. That''s good."


    I nodded and refocused.


    We had a lot to do, and our opponents were far from us, but Ilych''s "wind" had a point.


    We had four people blessed with magic, granted powerful artifacts, and troops ready to march and defend the lands their families found peace upon. Not only that, but our foe was weakened, and all other factions who would attack us are busy securing their own Citadel.


    This was an opportunity that we couldn''t ignore.


    A chance to secure two Citadels under our banner at once.

 Chapter 10

    Chapter 10


    ?


    On one hand, the game''s leading (trash) waifu was dead, which was cause for celebration.


    On the other hand, the big tiddy goth gf fandom was winning, which harkened an apocalypse in the future.


    The big tiddy goth gf fandom being happy, ever, is just a prelude to a terrible event.


    Goth and punk are in?


    2008, the Great recession.


    Goth revival arc?


    Twitter exists while it happens, which ruins everything.


    Goth takes off amongst actually talented artists and starts turning into a meme?


    I die before seeing it take off in the relevant research sites.


    What I''m saying is that I can never have nice things without something terrible happening to me.


    And, as I fucking expected, that was totally the case.


    ?


    Rolling hills.


    Deep valleys.


    Lush rivers.


    Gorgeous mountains.


    Dirt.


    Insects.


    Hundreds of smelly soldiers and animals around me, and hundreds more behind and beyond.


    A few years being cooped up in the Citadel were too fucking short. Eight years of being a toddler scrambling for scraps in a warband were bad enough, but after experiencing the comforts of the Citadel, returning to the norm was horrible. Sure, before, it was miserable because I had memories of a comfortable life, but now it was miserable because I had those memories and a life of comfort.


    The worst part, however, was the fact that I had to smile and wave the entire time.


    "I hate this, so much." I said the words through gritted teeth, while Riegert rode beside me. We were at the center of the formation. We were on a fast march towards the other side of the continent, a trip that was at least two turns long, which was eight months. If I recalled correctly, it took at least three turns to siege down a Citadel. Five turns, after the 1st? enemy faction revealed themselves. I wasn''t getting back to the Citadel for another two. That''s a total 10 turns before I get home, which is two and a half years. I''m going to be hitting puberty on the march. "Can I go back to the carriage?"


    Actually going through timeskips sucked.


    "Not yet, you''re doing too well of a job, kid." Riegert laughed and glanced at me. I glowered at him, which made him laugh more. He knew that I didn''t like the current situation in the slightest. "Do you trust us with dealing any villages in our way?"


    "No."


    "Hah!"


    Not encountering any enemies during travel generally gave an event for the army, as long as they were with a Champion. It was different from the game, where a Champion had to stay in place and not use any actions, but that was just how "reality" operated. Things happened, whether you wanted them to or not.


    I tried to leave things to these guys the first couple times.


    Their default was the typical medieval army response to things they barely understood and was weaker than them.


    Intimidate, steal, and take advantage of.


    If they couldn''t intimidate, then that method was changed to "kill."


    Neutral things in this world are free resources, free XP, or an Artifact, after all.


    Yeah, so, I had to do my best and try to spec into the Diplomacy tree, even though I couldn''t just easily invest skill points by clicking on the screen. It felt a little scummy. Diplomacy is banned in competitive play, due to the chance of Heroes somehow being able to sweet talk Tier 3 Dragons into their army with enough luck, but this wasn''t competitive.


    But that''s beside the point.


    "You see, kid? Just think of this as a way to learn more and get better. Maybe, in a way that doesn''t get allies to try and kill you." Riegert''s smile told me that he somehow knew that I''d gone off the rails. Hell, the massive musclehead was practically reminding me that this was Khanrow''s way of fucking me over, after I "failed" to ally with the Elves. There was no allying with the Elves, but they didn''t know that. "Hoh? Look. Something''s happened."


    Riegert turned his gaze to the sky.


    A scout in leather armor, cap, and goggles came flying in towards us. Each scout had three flags and were given an order to wave them upon approach, to make sure that they were one of us, along with a mirror to flash a set number of times. The guards and scouts coordinated every day to change up signals. It benefitted everyone. We could secure more information around us, while the scouts were able to get back to us without dying or landing on the outskirts to walk themselves in.


    The whole process was something inherent to this world, which made sense in context, but wasn''t even described in the lore.


    A big, fat middle finger to what little sense of safety I had with my knowledge of this world.


    I only knew what I knew.


    "Strider, nice to see you again. What do you have for us?" Riegert greeted the rider with a wide smile and by his name. It had the young man almost forget I was present, as he took off his helmet, goggles, and mask, which was covered in all manner of dead bugs and more than a few leaves. "A village filled with lovely ladies, I hope?"


    That got everything to chuckle, which made me very aware of how little power I had, but I laughed a little too.


    Yep, I''m one of you guys.


    Not someone who''s here because he''s a figurehead and carrying all the utility Artifacts.


    Definitely someone important!


    Not just an HM Slave, dammit!


    I''m Jack, not an AATTVV!


    "U-unfortunately not, sir. It seems to be a band of savages from the faraway south¡­ but a large one! And, they seem to just be a vanguard!" Southern savages. Ah, the Orcs of this setting. They were pretty original here. Nomadic warrior tribes that range across the world. Still, a horde, but more a combination of Steppe and Arabian tribes than just flat-out numberless armies that are the enemies of the ''Good Guys ?''. "In their great numbers, this might be a migration for which they intend to claim land!"


    Which meant only one thing¡­


    "Hm, seems that the desert dwellers have found their own Citadel¡­ and they''re not the type to leave something like that unguarded." Riegert turned his gaze towards me. I wanted to be pedantic and remind him that the orcs in this setting had mountainous and desert terrain advantages, not just dessert advantage, but that was beside the point. "What do you think we should do, my Lord?"


    I glowered at him for a moment, before anyone else could catch on, before speaking.


    "Send a small group forward with a diplomat. No. Me and Riegert. We will pass through their caravan without causing harm to each other."


    The scout''s eyes widened.


    "But they might be moving to claim¡ª


    "I understand, but we cannot defeat two foes with our army. Even now, we struggle to move quick enough to destroy the foes that we have." Quickly knocking out an opponent from the board was a great tactic. Great enough that you''d think to do it twice. However, there''s a problem with that. Having two Citadels in the early game makes you a target, but it also makes you strong in the eyes of others. Having three means that you''ll have everyone else working together to kill you. Five Citadels against three has only one solution. "If we are victorious and return, then we can see what we can do."


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Riegert nodded at my words, satisfied with my answer, and so did many of the others around us.


    Even the scout was placated and bowed his head.


    "Then, my Lord, I will begin preparations to meet with the savages for passage! I will be sure to get the finest for your personage!"


    With that, the scout flew away, and so did his name from my head.


    Generic Flying Cavalry unit man, I hope that you''re taken out of this sick game soon, because you''re too damn nice.


    ?


    Muscle.


    Biceps.


    Quads.


    Pecs.


    Muscle in every direction no matter where I looked.


    And, a voice like rolling thunder.


    "Hm. It seems you''re more than just cuttable meat, Boy King." The orcs of the setting lived and breathed intimidation. However, as many players on the forums pointed out, if you looked past the intimidation in their dialogue, they were perfectly reasonable people. Terrifying, absolute slabs of green skin and strapping muscle, but reasonable. "The food and wine you have brought is satisfactory. Speak and I will listen."


    We met the delegate of the orcs between the lead of our force and the center of their own line. It was a pretty dangerous position on our end, because they could envelope us. However, that was only the case if their long train was composed of soldiers. No, that wasn''t the case. The wagons hastening past us were their civilians. Their rush was more than apparent¡­ and the fact that we were an army while they weren''t were.


    Still, it didn''t hurt to show some respect and appeal to their sense of honor.


    "Greetings, fellow travelers of this land. My name is Jack and I seek passage past your people. There is a place we need to be quite quickly." Atop a horse, I had to crane my neck up a bit to meet the beady eyes between slabs of muscle. The orcs either had manes of black hair or completely bald head. They wore furs and leathers. Idiots would think they''re savages, but it was apparent that they had good hygiene and grooming standards. A developer or three are definitely in the closet. The gym closet. "My apologies, but you are not known to me."


    That was a lie.


    I knew the mountain right in front of me.


    "I am known as Crusher, Boy King." Default orc hero. Heavy infantry. Solo-type. No frills. Nothing fancy. Upgrade and equip to smash armies and kill enemy heroes. Fantastic, balanced hero unit with his strengths and weaknesses. Fan favorite for brain-dead gameplay with orcs. "And, my people move as they wish. Why should they head yours? Because you have meat covered in metal at your back?"


    Diplomacy with orcs is the best part of the game.


    The only right answer is use "Intimidate" back.


    "Yes. Enough to turn all of you into meat with ease." Ah, the best and most simple game mechanics can be the most fun. My words had a few of my guards caught off guard, but Riegert and Ilych just came forward on their horses with hands on their weapons. "It would slow us down, so we''d rather not."


    The orc was quiet long enough for me to wonder if I received some brain damage and misremembered something I was completely sure about.


    But, I let loose a sigh of relief, as a single chuckle left the orc''s lips.


    "Hah! This one understands how to speak! All of you¡­ have the oncoming line halt!"


    There was a roar of assent from Crusher''s pack of orcs. Barely twenty in number, but they ran off and turned up dust like they were a howl cavalry charge. Well, they were. They didn''t have cavalry units or flying units until the late game, where they could get their hands on animals big enough to mount. Their infantry just had a lesser version of the charge ability that every other race''s cavalry derivative had.


    Ergo, every single orc could be considered a mounted unit, and their actual mounted units trample cavalry and act as siege units.


    Ah, I''m getting fond memories of literally rolling over enemy armies.


    "I submit myself as hostage, until your host passes. That is the custom of your people correct, Boy King?" Crusher spoke and I nodded, while he sat down. The floor shook a bit, while he reached for the small offering of gifts we opened the conversion with. The bottle of wine in his hand was miniscule in comparison, like he was drinking from a sample bottle. The basket of food was opened with one hand and he readied to eat from the thing like a bowl. He ate everything with a few bites and three swallows max. "Hm. Good food, but you have none to trade on this warhost, do you?"


    It was a chance for everyone else to speak, but the sudden change in direction of the situation must''ve caught everyone off guard.


    So, I engaged with small-talk with the sitting mountain of muscle.


    "So, you''ve found a Citadel. Planning on conquering the whole continent?"


    "A stupid question. Of course. There is no greater path. Even meat knows this."


    "True, true. Catch any Wyverns to use as aerial cavalry yet, or do plan on just dying on the battlefield?"


    "Nonesuch foolishness exists within our clans. We are searching for nests already and our archers are mighty."


    "Not many of them though."


    "Still your tongue, whelp. We have enough."


    "Do you really?"


    "Hah!"


    I made small talk with Crusher and the orc reciprocated.


    Man, I wouldn''t mind living in this world, if I was an orc. A life without disease, perfect physique, and a stomach that can eat practically anything. Not only that, but their women weren''t lame cop-outs either. They were just as musclebound as their males. A lot of people would say the muscles and height are turn offs, but real men don''t say no to climbing mountains.


    Damn, puberty''s getting close.


    Sadly, Crusher soon stood up and it was apparent that a wide gap formed in the line of the orcs, and both sides were settling down to stop their march for the day as to not be separated.


    "Boy King Jack, you will regret being merciful today. I will not forget the shame on my honor as to be declared not worth fighting." Crusher swore and raised his arm towards me as a fist. "We will meet in battle and to the victor shall go all the spoils."


    The words rankled my guards again, but my response was already ready, and gave me a brief moment of fulfillment.


    I always wanted to say the line myself.


    "You may try, Conquerers of All Lands. You may try."


    I pulled the reigns and turned my horse around, while the rest of my guard filtered away.


    Crusher remained at our meeting place through the entire day, guarded by his people, until we completely passed through.


    If only all the other races could be as cool and decent as the bloodthirsty raider faction, then I''d have a lot less qualms about dealing with this world.


    But, no.


    That wasn''t the case.


    I had to deal with shitty people like Elves.

 Chapter 11

    Chapter 11


    ?


    Time passed.


    We travelled.


    I handled any event as diplomatically as I could, while unleashing Riegert, Ilych, and the recently resurrected Tari when necessary.


    Which was a lot of the time, since I didn''t want any shitty questlines ruining the march.


    Now, there were a lot of good ones, don''t get me wrong, but there were just as many bad ones and I committed those to memory.


    Passing a village filled with festivities, that invited my men into orgies?


    Refuse, move on, and burn it down when the cannibals reveal their true nature.


    Avoid losing men to cannibals and prevent crotch rot from plaguing the populace.


    Sick village filled with people asking and begging for food? Click the perfect, blue option thanks to my equipment on hand. Heal the village, which have great physicians due to having been fighting the disease for generations, and give them a place back home.


    Increased happiness, lower cost healer units, and increased population.


    Rumors about a sword of a god being nearby?


    Ignore and move on, because that shit was a Demon God''s sword, and it was a massive headache.


    Rumors about a witch hunted by a local lord?


    Stop the whole army, get every hero on the case, and eradicate the hidden demon. The witch is just a normal mage, but the hidden demon always drops a great artifact and is weak to being killed. Search mansion, get access to the obvious B*rs*rk reference sword, and give it to Ilych and make her scarier. Increased defense, increased defense that ignores with every kill made, and 100% larger cleave! Murder blender time!


    Events were coming out of the woodwork more like Oregon Trail, but I noticed that most of them weren''t that big of a deal.


    They were more normal.


    We encountered warbands that wanted to be hired, or wanted to try their luck, and I just gave those guys ultimatums. Join or die by the sword. If they didn''t join for the wages we offered, then they''d just use their higher speed to attack us and harry us, until we needed them. You always had to deal with those sorts of people with absolute military superiority.


    I could only guess that beating them and getting them with us increased unit experience.


    There were also roving nomads and merchant caravans. People mostly lived as horse herders or migrated with their animals. Those guys we purchased food from, protected, and pointed toward our territory. If we had some people who were lightly injured, we sent a small detachment back, while our supply lines transferred in replacements.


    These guys, I brought in for economic benefits and general population increases.


    The more people that we had the better off that we were, especially since we could mitigate all the disease in the city once I got back, which was one of the few issues of having high population counts.


    Anyway, that''s how a year passed, how I turned eleven, and how we reached the Elven territories.


    ?


    "Burn a path forward."


    "That''ll anger the Children of the Elm quite a bit, kid."


    "They''ll be angry no matter what. We''re here to steal everything from them."


    Riegert mellowed out on his teasing and insinuating that I was in trouble as time passed. It was most likely due to the fact that I was doing my job properly by handling the events that kept popping up. Sure, he had a lot of questions at first, but after the fifth or so time we came out on top, he stopped asking questions.


    Which was a boon, since we could navigate the events that were involved in conquering the Elves.


    These events weren''t usually in play in multiplayer, it was also something that you could disable in campaign, but most people agreed it balanced and lore-friendly enough to keep, even in the hardest of settings.


    Anyway, conquering the Elvish territories came with the issue of having to deal with guerilla fighters that could "see" through the forest.


    Going through the forest, trying to keep its beauty, was a good way of getting ambushed at inopportune moments.


    Thankfully, the we had the manpower and money to get the job down.


    "Set up bonfires next to the trees. Use our lumber and kindling and tell the backline to start buying all that we can from the villages and the merchants we met. Have a lumber camp set up for our prisoners to enjoy." I rattled off instructions in the safety of my tent. I had a lot of eyes on me, while I stood on a stool to look at the massive map drawn by our resident cartographer with the help of our flying scouts. "It''ll take a while, since living wood doesn''t burn quickly, but a good blaze will help us a lot."


    "The Winds say that it will invite reprisal attacks from the Children of the Elm."


    "That''s good, too. Better to fight them on near-open ground, or smoke-filled paths, than in the forests they own." I clarified and saw a few nods from Khanrow''s cronies. I wasn''t fooled about their loyalties, but I appreciated having the clout. Though I didn''t know how to revolutionize industry or agriculture like all the other nerds in other worlds, I certainly knew enough about my favorite game to get the right advantages rolling for the faction I was in. Common sense, poring over this world''s military history, and what I could remember from history class and Wikipedia binging helped too. I really should''ve read the Art of War, instead of just getting everything through memes. "We need to pull back the flying scouts before we do. I don''t want them within bowshot."


    A general assent came from the gathered officers, so I moved on with the real crux of this plan.


    In the game, to progress into this event without issue, you needed to give up half the "health" of a whole Mage Unit, which was the early game artillery unit.


    It was a massive loss, but it was better than having ten percent of all Unit and Champion health lost before every fight.


    "We will speed up the flames, once they are there, with the Mages. Riegert, they can do that, right?"


    "Ah, of course. With the flames there already, it''ll just be a matter of manipulation. With a big enough blaze, we can create a road of ash and smoke right to the Citadel." Riegert grasped the plan instantly, probably because he would be the one suggesting it to the leader character in the dialogue box, if I wasn''t here. Still, he didn''t think of it first in this timeline, so I was helping myself to the fame. Every little advantage counted, and I''m not below outright stealing. Times are hard. "If we do this fast enough, we won''t have to endure the Children of the Elm''s forest fighting!"


    That increased morale quite a bit, and orders started to be given around the tent, until a strong wind hurtled through the tent and made everything silent.


    The resurrected Tari went by the name of Rita now. In the game, the player renamed the resurrected Champion they captured, and Riegert did the same here. Personally, I thought that the shifting of the letters was lazy, but I was a hypocrite. After getting the ultimate form of the Shroud, and going on a kleptomatic binge to get every single Champion I could, I started just giving them numbers for names.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    So, yeah, Rita was a decent name compared to what I would''ve given.


    "The Children of the Elm have sent a message." Ah, this was the prompt when you entered territory to talk things out. It changed depending on how strong the force you had for most factions. Not for the Elves, though. The sticks up their asses were lodged high enough into their skulls that they only had one, basic prompt to anyone entering their territory. "Prepare to die and nurture the soil."


    This was no point in following that prompt, it was just useless meandering about how great Elves are and how we were going to lose, and it wasn''t going to change even if we were sieging them down.


    The actual Territory Conquest Events were going to need my attention, but not this.


    "Well, it''s good that we have a reply ready then. Let''s start penning it up."


    It took Riegert only a second to catch on, but he gave the order quickly, while I kept my gaze on the map.


    I''ve done this hundreds of times before, but I wasn''t going to let my guard down.


    No one was watching to entertain, there were no saves for me to exploit, and every mistake cost actual lives.


    It was my job to do this as properly as possible.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert


    ?


    The kid was something straight out of legend.


    Even if his body was normal, it was obvious that his mind was as keen as the Ancients intended. Khanrow told me that he was exceptional in terms of intellect, and that he consumed literature voraciously, but seeing it for myself made me feel blind.


    From the moment he led our expedition through the continent, something that should''ve been fraught with peril, Jack''s true worth was displayed.


    An uncanny ability to detect danger.


    The ability to command and lead, despite a young age.


    A stunning ability to charm or intimidate all who would lend him their ear.


    The desert tribes, known to respect only strength, folded to his demands the moment he made them clear. Greater warriors and kings who confronted them with larger armies died, and their lands ravaged, while he passed a whole army through one of their caravans with only a few words.


    Villages contending with ancient diseases were cured and became his servants overnight. They all but pledged their eternal loyalty to him, along with their skills as physicians, and he bid them to go to the Citadel and heal the sick. Then, when confronted with pleasure and decadence, his guard was up and he discerned the trap that sought to kill him and many others, and put ancient horrors to the sword and torch without so much as a single lost soul.


    Time and time again, he confronted the challenges of a land torn apart by war, ignorance, and fear, and gathered the righteous under his banner and slew the wicked.


    If I believed in gods, I would''ve thought him heavensent.


    But, I believed in the grandeur of the ancients¡­ and I felt a thrill within my chest as I knew that this was what our ancestors intended for us to be.


    If Ilych had the body of the Ancients, then Jack had the mind, and through them I was sure that we could slowly recover our glory, even without the Citadels.


    But that was a thought for another day.


    For now, I worked to see his latest plan brought to fruition.


    A plan that he created in an instant, but was airtight from end to end, and unfolded like it was meant to be the moment it was put into action.


    The villages, merchants, and peoples he treated fairly on our march were hungry for coin and lumber was plentiful. They worked and worked, bringing ton after ton of wood for our disposal, and many even asked to join us and supplement our few loses. The mercenary bands he subjugated and treated fairly were separated between those hungry for glory and those who wished for money. The former was sent forward as guards against the Children of the Elm, while those who yearned for simple duties had their place in the backline.


    On our whole march, he gathered the tools he could have at his disposal, and did not hesitate to use them all as he required.


    And, now, the Elves were to lose their greatest asset.


    "How are the flames?" I asked Ilych, as she stood beside me. Soon we were going to be shoulder to shoulder. The constant battles did more than any training could. Some of the bulk on her body was refined down into leaner muscle. Her beauty came forth, as her femininity matured, despite her mother not receiving the same gift. Men stared at her now, but she paid them little heed. Though her instinct and ability increased, and the fact that she stayed silent unless necessary, her interest in others remained the same. "Are you ready with your magic?"


    "Yes."


    A single word. Sometimes, it was more than she spoke in a whole day. It felt strange to no longer hear about the winds, but at the same time I increased my guard. What if this was a way for what was influencing her to prepare her against us? I didn''t want to be on guard against my own daughter, but I felt I had little choice.


    Thankfully, she never contested any of Jack''s commands.


    "Then, let''s begin."


    I nodded at the nearest Mage and moved forward with my own power. A ball of flame formed in my hand with barely a thought, it was something I practiced until it came forth with a twitch of my fingers. The small ball of flame that saved my life so many times grew as I fed it, but I didn''t need too much. The air was dry, flames were raging around us, and there was what resistance the Children of the Elm could muster to stifle our magics was mitigated by the blazing forest fire around us.


    The mages lent me their aid, gathering embers and heat, while I used my catalyst and experience to gather and gather more and more flame.


    Soon, I could no longer hold it in one hand, and I was spending more protecting myself from the flame as its focal point than protecting myself.


    But that was all that I needed.


    The flame I gathered was enough to carve a path through the whole forest, and so I unleashed it.


    Magic is a great and terrible thing, and I could only wonder how the Ancients used it, when we could do so much with it as our feeble selves. How much of myth and legend was aggrandized and incorrect? Did storms truly come forth at the beck and call of the Ancients? Did great waves that ate whole countries? Did they truly rouse whole mountains as constructs to do battle?


    All these questions thundered in my mind, while the flame I controlled barreled through the forest before me. The white-hot boulder was the size of whole home, and whatever it touched turned into ash. Trees, animals, and even the ground was scorched into grey dust in its path, until it crashed into the faraway walls of the Children of the Elm''s Citadel.


    The grueling and terrifying battle Khanrow and I prepared for against the Children of the Elm in their forest disappeared along with the flame I conjured.


    We had a path forward, straight into the heart of the enemy''s nation, where over twenty men could stand shoulder to shoulder.


    Our siege, and our victory, were both months early¡­ and with far less dead than we could''ve ever imagined.


    All thanks to a boy we thought a mere prodigy.


    When, in truth, he was the key to truly ending the madness that persisted since the fall of the Ancients.

 Chapter 12

    Chapter 12


    ¡­


    Fight enough battles and they become busy work.


    The whole point of the game is to make meme Deathstacks and show off how much of the map you could paint in your color. Maybe, sometimes, you rename enemy capitals something funny. Not too funny, though, or you''ll get banned.


    Once you reach endgame, if you''re not using auto-resolve to win without any casualties, I''m sorry to say¡­ but you''re a casual.


    I know, it''s a horrible, terminal illness, but you need to understand that you''re better off not affiliated with gamers.


    I''m a gamer by association, because I like games.


    Not a capital-G gamer that thinks lobbies are places to practice hate speech, or who spend their whole lives in basements. For me, games are a hobby, not a lifestyle, and so I''m fairly sure that I''m a casual in a lot of circles too.


    Unless you have jars filled with piss and shit and other fluids around your "battlestation" purchased with NEET-bucks from welfare checks, and haven''t taken a shower in weeks, you''re honestly a casual.


    But, in the end, even casuals can reach certain levels of degeneracy through commitment. If you work hard, burn away enough relationships, and ignore plenty of social activities, I''m sure that you can watch your pixels beat up other pixels without you lifting a finger too.


    What was I talking about again?


    Oh, right.


    Fight enough battles and they become busy work.


    That was my mindset around my last couple of games. I was ready to use every exploit and cheese, so that the last half of the game was just me clicking and winning the rest of the way. Early game was the best for actual tactics and fights, so I didn''t have many problems with them. Late game and midgame were both about who had a better bullshit strategy to use against another bullshit strategy.


    So, I was ready to help with the siege of the Elvish Citadel, lose as little as possible, and get as many people levelled up and experienced as I could.


    The more strength I gathered with every battle, the easier battles were going to get, and then I could just focus on politics while staying out of the military during the endgame. Khanrow would be less likely to kill me off if I didn''t turn into Alexander the Great of this world, with political and military power both at my disposal, after all.


    However, as usual, things didn''t go to plan.


    At the very least, this time, it didn''t go to plan because of an opportunity instead of fate fucking me over.


    ?


    Refugees are apparently a thing.


    Well, logically speaking, I knew they were a thing in the game. It''s just the grand strategy game didn''t care about the lives of people who couldn''t fight or throw magic at one another. Everyone was measured as "population" and that population could be focused on producing units, gold, and all the other resources. The more you had, the more you got of anything you wanted, and you stacked on modifiers until your towns and cities produced as much as your Citadel.


    But I''m getting ahead of myself.


    Population technically didn''t matter on the overworld. It was a statistic. If your attacks, sieges, and choices on events lost population, it''s just a modifier to the production of the city. You replace that population by increasing happiness through buildings, lowering taxes, and building residences. While it was treated as an atrocity to kill a lot of pops, losing pops during a war is just considered a matter of fact, and balances the game.


    You don''t conquer a place and expect it to be in pristine condition after all.


    It makes sure that people don''t snowball in the early game. It''s only in the lategame with heavy investment into the Diplomacy tree that you can conquer cities and leave most of its population alive.


    In the early game, well¡­ usually conquered cities go down to 0.5 population after you conquer it.


    1 population is 100,000 people, by the way.


    So, since the civilizations that start later get bonuses in population to prop them up in exchange for lost turns, and the Elves started with 2.5 pop¡­


    200,000 dead Elvish civilians.


    Personally, I just thought that was a pretty good start, but Riegert actually looked to me to deal with them once the outskirts were cleared out and the siege began.


    The musclebound mountain''s exact words were:


    "Try to keep some of them around, so we can keep this place working."


    So, I found myself with Ilych at my back while a few hundred Elves looked at me, clothed in rags, and forced to stay in the makeshift internment camp, until we took their Citadel.


    The surrounding area was being transformed into a siege camp.


    Honestly, I had half a mind to point at the crowd and tell Ilych to charge in and give me a show while strengthening her new sword¡­ but Riegert spoke for Khanrow and I couldn''t go against Khanrow.


    After plastering a big, wide smile at the racist, genocidal bastards, I addressed them with all the cheer I could muster.


    "Hello, everyone! My name is Jack and I''m the King of this expedition!" I puffed out my chest and cheeks, spoke in the highest tone I could muster, and generally tested their patience with every word. C''mon, you prideful bastards, give me an excuse! "Don''t worry! We''re doing our best to take over this Citadel and get you all back to working in your homes as soon as possible!"


    I saw more than a few fists clench in anger, as well as narrowed eyes.


    Yes.


    Implying that they were going to become slaves worked! Despite being slavers themselves, enslaving Elves pissed them off! I''m sure that there''s social commentary to be had there, but I majored in business like everyone else who wanted to breeze through college, so I didn''t know jack shit. I''ll leave that sort of thing to people who use social media to figure out.


    Anyway¡­


    "As you can see to your left, we''re setting up dugouts and shelters for you all."


    With the trees that you guys were all tending to and intended to raise for hundreds of years.


    "We also have plenty of food for you to eat."


    Barely any fruits and berries, mostly preserved meat, and it''s the offcuts that the rest of the army doesn''t want.


    "And, we''re soon going to get you all real clothes."


    We are looting your houses as we speak for anything worth anything, and grabbing your clothes to give you as an afterthought.


    I waited for a while for the inevitable screaming, yelling, crying, and shitting my way¡­ but the Elves just stayed stone cold and stared me down.


    I knew exactly what they were thinking though.


    They were all planning to kill me when I''m old and weak, while they remained young and strong.


    That''s how they always thought.


    But¡­ I did have Ilych on hand, so I looked her way with a big smile.


    "Hey, Ilych, would you mind making sure that we only have the people that would work with us? It''ll be terrible if we work so hard, only for everyone here to rebel, right?"


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    There was no hesitation on Ilych''s part, as she rose up and cast a shadow upon me, and nearly the entire stage.


    "The winds hear your commands and they agree. It shall be as you will." Eighty percent of the time, Ilych scared me shitless, but I had to admit¡­ sometimes it''s useful to have a psychopath that follows the voices in their head on your side. Anyway, she came forward and took her sword from her back. I half-expected her to leap off the stage and just start killing, but instead she took a stand before the thousands of Elves. How else was she going to break the will and spirit of a conniving, crazed race of genocidal maniacs that were more than willing to wait hundreds of years to get what they want¡ª "Swear fealty to me now, with all your heart and soul, or die and have your corpses be remade into more willing beings."


    Oh.


    Telling them to swear upon themselves to be loyal, or be killed and have their cherished bodies turned into subservient Undead worked.


    It worked quite well, actually, since Rita had been on the frontline helping us all this time.


    Never had that option in the game though, which was just another warning sign of how seriously out of my depth that I was.


    I needed to look into ideas like that and implement them, before all my options ran out.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    "Well, the gambit paid off."


    "Indeed."


    I looked over the construct made from our Citadel. It stood in my presence and I could feel it inquiring for orders within my mind. It was here, ready for battle, despite having been plucked from where it should be.


    "Keeping it frozen in magic is essential. It''s as you said, the Guardians collapse and fall apart when not in the presence of Citadels." I gave Riegert his dues for his thorough research. Some may say that his proclivities bordered on mania, but with results such as these, I did not care. "I will be returning with all that I can muster, so that we do not waste our soldiery against the Children of the Elm''s own Guardians."


    "Got it. Anything else you need?" In case someone was listening, or breaking through our protections, Riegert did not address me as Khanrow, or his Lord. In every respect, that was Jack''s duty. A duty that he did well. "Do you think Jack missed anything?"


    "Hmph. No, he didn''t. That child is more dangerous than he lets on. All the better for it, I believe." Riegert informed me of Jack as I followed in the supply train. He didn''t have to. I witnessed most of Jack''s accomplishments myself. When armies marched, they typically laid waste to whatever they encountered, and were laid to waste in turn. Not this time. We marched and left at our backs lands that were secure, and few of our number were injured or harmed. The force that arrived was stronger and almost double the expected amount. "He will make a fine leader in the upcoming age."


    "He''ll know how shit this one is, and do everything to get rid of it. Sounds about right. Well, let''s both hope that he''ll let us go if we surrender and let ourselves be exiled."


    "He would never."


    "Hah, that''s true, we''ll both get our heads lopped off if we let him have his way."


    I shared a chuckle with my friend, allowing myself to let go of my responsibilities for the moment, and simply bask at our success.


    The siege had just begun, the Children of the Elm were entrenched behind the Citadel''s walls and needed no food, but I already felt victory in the air.


    It was because of Jack, his achievements, and his sheer ability.


    Riegert declared him a prodigy and genius in matters of campaigning, and with what I saw and what I knew of his ability to govern and go through scholar after scholar, I had to agree.


    We stumbled onto a miracle, and we had to bear its weight until it flew faster and higher than anything else could hope to catch.


    "I think, we''d best leave after he graduates from the Academy. I''ll leave the ring right on his desk." I mused and Riegert nodded with a smirk. I instructed the Guardian to return to the insulated box that I''d fashioned in secret for it. It trundled inside, the water within filling up to cover it completely, and then Riegert cast the magic necessary to freeze it solid. The mages keeping fresh food from rotting away would keep it cold along with the supplies and they will be none the wiser. "Do you think he''ll still run, if he has no one to force him upon the throne?"


    Riegert gave a low chuckle at the question.


    "The kid acts like a bubbly idiot, and inside he''s a mix of spite and wit, but in truth¡­ he''s got more mercy in his heart than either of us combined. He''ll take the ring because he has to, or because he can''t trust anyone else to do the job."


    "So, the best of both of us." I summarized simply. "With weaknesses all his own."


    "Can''t expect him to hold his own in a fight, or stick a dagger in someone''s back without being noticed, but he can get other people for that. Hell, I''d say he already has two people who can." Riegert mentioned Ilych and the reborn Elf, who was now Rita. I had to agree with the assessment. Both of those two were reaching to meet me and Riegert in terms of skill. In half-a-decade, they''ll outstrip us completely. "But he makes hard decisions look easy, and he knows what he needs to do, or ask questions when he doesn''t. He acts on gut instinct, knowledge, and somehow¡­ experience all at the same time."


    I felt myself nodding again in agreement.


    Riegert and I hardly agreed on anything this much.


    "The many dead Children of the Elm we''d captured is enough evidence of that." I had Riegert place Jack in a position that would''ve made any other man salivate. Thousands of beautiful creatures, skilled artisans, and slaves at his disposal. Some would never think of spoiling a single one just for the sake of selling them, while others would''ve fallen into depravity. Instead, Jack followed the path he set for himself, knowing that nearly none of them would follow him willingly. Then, there was how he interacted with the Conquerors. "To all who raise a sword against him: destruction. To all who show him courtesy: courtesy in turn."


    "Hah, you''re still shit at poetry."


    "Haven''t had the chance to practice."


    "Fair. Maybe in a few years."


    "Maybe."


    I agreed and met my ally, my friend, and my partner through so many hellish campaigns and battles.


    Riegert returned the nod I gave him and extended his hand to me, and I gripped his forearm as he did mine.


    Despite his strength and power, I recalled a day when he was stronger.


    He probably felt the same for me.


    "You better not die before we see these kids leading the charge. We both need to grow old into fat, rich grandparents, Ghor."


    "The same to you, Riegert."


    With those words, we parted ways for the time being once more.


    Sometimes, it felt foolish to hope.


    But this time, after all that I''ve seen Jack accomplish and knowing who he had at his side, I seized onto the ember burning in my chest and let myself feed it ever-so-slightly.


    Truly, finally, it felt like this age of darkness and terror was going to end.

 Chapter 13

    Chapter 13


    ¡­


    Besieging a city in this game was a complex process, primarily intended to increase the cost of rush tactics. That''s right, the game devs didn''t make the cheese impossible, they tweaked it while keeping balance in mind. If anyone asks for a reason to buy the game and all its expansions, even the cosmetics, that was what I pointed at.


    Besides, you can just mod your game into the earlier versions, but I''m getting ahead of myself.


    Sieges require an army making contact with the tile of a city. When that occurred, the army gets to choose an adjacent tile in the city to set up their siege camp. The siege camp will then expand around the city, then you assign units in the army to take part in the siege. You rotate them out turn after turn to recover in the camp, because being on siege duty depleted their health.


    Specialized siege units, like magical artillery, took up those siege slots, took far less attrition, and they whittled down the city''s defenses more effectively than basic-bitch, regular infantry. Siege towers and rams were upgrades in the tech tree that improved heavy infantry for their role in bringing down cities. Some factions had special siege technologies which gave them the edge in the mid and late game, but by the end game everyone researched one tech or another that made sieging cities a breeze.


    Orcs, for example, received a special trait for their wyvern units that let them practically paradrop heavy infantry into cities. Orcish heavy infantry, at that, which translated in game as "ignores fifty percent of city defense."


    If a mountain of green muscle just dropped from the sky carrying an axe twice my height in one hand, and a cannon in the other, I''d definitely think hard about fighting against any siege any longer.


    Anyway, since I was in the early game, the siege was set to take a long time.


    We mainly had infantry, early-game fliers, and a smattering of mages. All of whom were at Tier 1. The infantry didn''t have the armor value to stay very long, so they got rotated out after gaining enough experience, and new ones were slapped into the role. The Pegasus Knights weren''t Wyverns and we didn''t have enough research to have them start pulling cargo in magical, floating boxes yet, so they weren''t much help. The mages getting sent to the front was just asking for them to get arrows in their faces, so they were put to work as sentries that guarded the flanks of the camp.


    Overall, even with three Champions present, I was sure that we were going to sit around for at least a year to get the defenses down, then we''ll go through with the battle to end the threat that the Elves posed.


    Half a year passed, we wore down the defenses steadily while I guided the army through any events that popped up, and Khanrow played his hand.


    I never saw it coming, primarily because it was something that never took place in the game.


    Or, rather, it would definitely be called cheating or hacking.


    Someone tell the Devs that Khanrow is being a cheating piece of shit, please.


    After we win the current session, of course.


    The devs need in-depth, start-to-finish information on the bug, after all!


    ?


    Just a mile away from the siege camp, the assault on the Citadel''s surrounding wall was taking place, and it was as horrible as I thought it''d be.


    Thousands of soldiers were assailing ten-story-tall walls. We didn''t have our specialized artillery units yet, so they were making do with things like catapults and ballistae that shot at the defenders. Mobile palisades provided cover, while archers, crossbowmen, and mages mixed in with the infantry shot at the defenders.


    It was furious exchange. Men and material were being exchanged on both sides to keep each other locked in combat. We had the advantage in numbers and logistics, because of our secure supply line, and the fact we already killed their army. The Elves were good marksmen and their bows were strong, but they had population issues at the start of the game, and that was alleviated through research and social policies that they hadn''t had the time to research and apply.


    I would say we outnumbered them five to one in terms of Tier 1 units. One full army being reinforced and maintained, against the civil militia spawned as a final defense. Civil militia units were always green, couldn''t get veterancy, and were usually the cheapest unit your faction could have. Still, they had home field advantage, so they could fight just fine against one or two army units that were making cheeky attacks on the capital, until they could spawn real units to fight on the field.


    However, this wasn''t the game, so they weren''t spawning units in their base while they were under siege. Not only that, but they were already down a Champion while we had all of ours present. They had to fight, otherwise we''d be able to cast all the magic and make all the preparations we wanted, and the walls would go down. The only way to break the siege was get another Champion, spawn two or three units for a slapdash army, and break the siege.


    But, again, unlike the game, Champions and military units didn''t spawn out of nowhere.


    We captured most of their fleeing populace, executed those who wouldn''t surrender and swear themselves to us, and sent away those that wanted to live. Only those that managed to flee into the Citadel remained, and even if one took five of ours to kill, then we''ll still win.


    Units healed in the siege camp because they were replaced by new people, and healing increased in-game when you had a Champion that Heal, Cure, Raise Dead, and all those other fine spells. With my artifact getting rid of disease and rot, most soldiers were surviving, and the first batch of wounded were already coming back after a few months of healthy eating, rest, and recuperation.


    I looked forward to the day when we researched the healers and upgraded them properly.


    Anyway, the Elves had the Citadel and all its amenities, but it wasn''t the same as a constant supply line with reinforcements coming unabated.


    This victory was ours, but Khanrow didn''t have the patience for another six more months of it, and unveiled his plan.


    Using Citadel Guardians as an offensive weapons.


    By throwing them onto the walls where the gates were.


    "After testing, we''ve discerned that our Guardians can work as shock troops until we can field our own." Khanrow probably had the Subterfuge trait line, that allowed all sorts of nasty tricks to be at his disposal. I couldn''t see him using Seduce on Champions of the opposite sex, and I really hoped I''d never know if he did. "We''ll launch them inside to wreak havoc, open the gates, and lead the charge into the Citadel proper."


    "It''ll still be hell to fight to the top, but numbers should make everything easier, and if we can get rid of their own Guardians with ours." Riegert pipped up. I didn''t see him that often nowadays. I''m focused on keeping the siege camp running and giving orders to the backline. An administrative role, but it was always important to have someone with Support Artifacts doing the events, since most events had better outcomes with them. Combat Artifacts, naturally, were built solely for battlefield use. If they did both, then no one would use Support Artifacts. "The defenses will kill at least half our army, if we can''t find a way to get their leader to surrender."


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    "If they haven''t surrendered after all the losses they''ve taken now, they never will." It was just the three of us present, so I said my piece on the matter. Khanrow frowned, but he soon nodded, while Riegert had to sigh. He really cared about his men, and they cared about him. Which was good, because that meant that the infantry wouldn''t break while scaling the skyscraper death-trap filled with killing machines, moving floors, and ever-changing halls. "Unless whatever you''re plan on using to drop the Guardians in can get them all the way to the top."


    "No, the launchers can''t do that¡­ but there''s still an old practice in play that we can put to our advantage."


    Khanrow looked at me and I already knew what he was getting at.


    "Trial of combat between two leaders? I''ll lose."


    "You can call forth a champion, and so can the Children of the Elm''s leader. Whoever they send will have to contend against Riegert or Ilych."


    Riegert wasn''t going to do jack shit to an actual hero-killer, and Ilych was geared up for turning the battlefield into a slaughterhouse.


    "If we''re doing that, we should use Rita." I put my two cents forward. That drew raised brows from both of them. However, unlike those two, I knew what her stat sheet was like the back of my hand. There was a reason why I had her killed the first change I got, whenever she spawned in the game. "We have a few Artifacts that''ll make her almost untouchable."


    "And what might those be? The ones we have here are almost worthless." There were differing levels to Artifacts. The classic grays, greens, blues, purples, and orange since time immemorial. Or, you know, when certain companies didn''t let their employees steal breast milk. But, once again, I''m getting off track. We had a lot greens at our disposal, because the blues and purples were taken already. My anti-disease staff, upgraded, was technically somewhere between blue and purple now. Anyway, we had uncommon Artifacts aplenty. In fact, they were in the same room as us. "Nothing looks particularly special."


    "For us, but not for Undead." I walked over to the Artifacts and sifted through the dozen present, until I got a load out together. Riegert loomed over me, while I presented my picks. I started with the first. "Ring of Speed. Weakens normal people to the point where they can barely swing a sword, but she''s got Undead strength."


    "She''ll be weakened to her original strength, which is fine." Khanrow came over as well and looked over my other shoulder. His face was bare, as to help him disguise himself better with various fake forms of wigs and beards, but the way he spoke was unmistakable. I hadn''t noticed he''d come behind me, and that sent a chill down my spine. I could''ve died then and there. "What about the rest?"


    "Fleeting Boots, another increase in speed, but only four times a day at the cost of power." In-game, it was thrice per battle, and it depleted half of your Champion''s reserves. It was cost-effective in early game, but in the late game it was garbage, since it was a percentage-based cost¡­ well, some people still swore by it for the memes of having a speedster, but I didn''t subscribe to save-scum, meme tactics. At least, in this life. "And, the third, will be the Amulet of Protection."


    "More speed and increased resistance against magic." Riegert frowned and looked upon the artifacts. He was comparing it to his own assortment, and he was coming to a quick realization of what I meant earlier. "You''re turning Rita into a slayer of mages."


    I nodded.


    When facing off against a magic-based Champion, the key to victory was speed and staying power. It was the classic triangle of Mage, Warrior, and Rogue. Mages mulch through the health of warriors before they can reach them, Warriors survive the alpha strike of Rogues and AOE the area so they can''t evade, and Rogues can evade Mages and destroy their tiny HP bars. Ilych was hyper-lethal as a meme Champion because she could potentially become a hybrid of any of the three and essentially counter any other Champion.


    But that was a few dozen levels and traits in the future.


    "That''s right. That''s what their leader''s specialized in, right?" Riegert nodded at my words. He''d been gripping about the Children of the Elm''s lord whenever the guy popped up. He came down to plug possible holes in the defense, lashing out with magics that an entire division of non-Champions would need, and slunk away before a force could be mounted to kill him. It was classic guerilla warfare and it was a pain to a conventional force, as per usual. "These should work well enough to get her close enough, too."


    The final two pieces of the puzzle were sub-optimal picks. Just a health-boosting bracer that gave a little bit of regeneration, and a circlet that would increase critical chance. Still, this early in the game, a buff of a point or two was massive, since stats weren''t inflated to the point where percentage-based modifiers were the only ones applicable. In fact, arguably, the green weapons were better for the early game than the higher levels.


    Not the grays though, they were just dog-shit.


    "Validate his findings, test Rita, and then we''ll announce the challenge after breaking the walls and killing the defenders upon them." Khanrow made the decision with a nod, and Riegert was quick to take the Artifacts and leave to get the former Elf. That left me alone in the room with Khanrow, and he glanced at the remaining artifacts on the table, then looked at me. "What use do these have?"


    "I haven''t thought about those. I mostly researched the last ones to get the job done, just in case." I lied. I knew every Artifact that wasn''t a gray like the back of my hand. Reading through tooltips thousands of times does that to you. Khanrow''s eyes narrowed at my words, but what was going to imply? That I somehow knew every single existing artifact in this world? "These are the ones in the books I requested. Descriptions of them, anyway."


    Khanrow glared at me for a while, but backed down when I met his gaze and didn''t budge.


    He knew better than to try that intimidation tactic after I''ve achieved so much in this campaign.


    Even if I was a figurehead and put in my place to die instead of him, I was getting results that couldn''t be ignored, and I''ve linked my life to the morale of the common soldiery with all my successes.


    Sure, Riegert held their loyalty, but their morale will take a massive blow if the person they looked to guide them through this died.


    "Hmph, I see. Well, then, I will see you when the gate is taken, Jack. Be ready to declare a duel then."


    "Yes, my lord."


    I gave him a nod and a little bow, but luxuriated as he left.


    Finally.


    I had some real, concrete leverage.

 Chapter 14

    Chapter 14


    ?


    There are multiple kinds of Undead.


    Some say it''s a sign of creativity on the devs part, so that they could get real, cool-looking units on the field.


    I say that there are multiple kinds, because there''s some cultured gentlemen in their ranks really into goth chicks.


    Cultured gentlemen whose hands I want to shake.


    Rita is a knock-off of a certain MMORPG, but unlike the character, never got sanitized for the larger audience, never had a character that could be ruined, and isn''t the center of the world. However, all the aspects why that certain character was loved was transferred over.


    Some would even say improved.


    Armor mostly on the arms and legs. High-waisted leotard/corset combo with everything below just shown off. Tight fishnets that went up all the way into that very high-cut leotard in order to make you wonder. Amazing legs and rear no matter the angle you look, with a constant expression of looking at everything and anyone with cold-dead eyes.


    Mods? Who needs mods?


    The devs did all the work themselves.


    God bless those degenerate bastards.


    Man, puberty is going to be hellish in this world, because it''s easy to ignore how everyone is attractive while you don''t care.


    When I actually start getting hit by hormones, I''m going to need to somehow neuter myself, so I don''t get killed by an assassin.


    Hm?


    The duel for the Citadel and destruction of the Elves'' ambitions to exterminate all other races and turn the world into a dead-end garden?


    Right, that was happening.


    ?


    Meat rots quickly, especially when covered in shit and other bodily fluids.


    The Guardians sliced through the enemy defenses after they were sent in. They tore through the guards at the front door and held the line, until we managed to break down the entrance and get ladders up. By the time the Elves sent their own Guardians in, ours were being supported by our troops, and we made quick work of the detached force, while also filtering into the Citadel''s courtyard proper.


    I''m sure that Khanrow will have the tactic be lauded for generations and generations, but for most people wading through a field of massacred corpses was pretty tough.


    Not for me though, I spent the early years of my life inundated with the scent of corpses.


    "Breathe low through your mouths if you have trouble. Don''t vomit. You''ll make everyone else vomit too!" I instructed everyone listening as my guards stayed close to me. I followed behind after Riegert, Ilych, and Rita. They weren''t on horseback, but I was, just in case we need a quick retreat. I was also surrounded by several mages who had Tier 0 versions of the deflect arrow spell up. Usually, I thought that the cost of the spell was too high, because the enemy could just stop shooting arrows until you turn it off, but I appreciated the protection now. "Keep your eyes on the bodies and make sure to give the ones suffering a peaceful death!"


    Anyway, I was playing my part as a king leading his army into the fray. Khanrow was watching from somewhere, while we approached the towering spire created by the ancients.


    Being a king was a lot less about having a throne in this age, and more about being surrounded by incredible amounts of firepower while walking over the corpses of your enemies.


    I have to admit that I''m pretty fucked in the head, so I felt pretty good about it, though the corpses in our armor and with our colors made me feel bad.


    Still had some sort of conscience, I suppose.


    Or, maybe, inherent tribalism was actually doing its job, instead of getting me riled up about words and comments on the screen.


    We made our way through the slaughterhouse, boots breaking bone and flesh underfoot, until we reached the entrance of the Citadel. If it was fully activated through the relevant techs, or the right events, we''d get slaughtered by ancient defenses. However, that wasn''t the case, and so we were before the doors and ready to break it down.


    That''s when we played our hand.


    A few dozen prisoners were set before us, bloodied, wounded and beaten down with clubs and staffs. Male and female Elves in half-armor, their weapons in a pile being sequestered away for study and use later, looked at Rita with horror and at me with rage.


    I gave them a big, wide smile atop the warhorse I rode, while surrounded by hundreds of armed men and three people who could murder hundreds with ease.


    "Hello, there! You''re all being released to tell your leader to come forward to fight me in a formal duel, so that the Citadel isn''t damaged. Go ahead and get up!" Sometimes, I thought that being a cheery little brat was a bad move. When the anger of the Elves turned into confusion, then frustration, and then horror as I gazed down at them without flinching on a warhorse with bloodied hooves, I found that decision validated. Yes, if you''re wondering, I do know how to get this beast to step on your skull and crush it. I''ve been practicing how to ride horses for a while now. "If you do not, then I''m afraid we''ll have to force you to do it. We all know that one of you will, so lets save everyone the trouble, okay?"


    I pleaded with them earnestly, putting my hands together, and smiling as I begged them to choose the easy way out.


    Not because I cared about the genocidal narcissists, but because I wanted my part of this operation to be over as quickly as possible.


    But, as always, when I wanted something to happen¡­ it tended not to.


    One after another, each Elf looked away, and stayed kneeling.


    Hm, on one hand, killing them one by one was terrible for what remained of my sensibilities in my former life. However, I also know how interrogations work out in this world. They''re cruel, brutal, and inflict pain until people are driven mad. Those with strong wills just die after suffering immensely. People who break die from their wounds. With these numbers, and the women involved, some could also be secreted away after they''re broken and end up having even worse fates.


    I didn''t want to walk in the streets and come across Half-Elves doing what they needed to in order to survive.


    So, in the end, having them killed one-by-one until one decided to send my message was the moral option in this fucked up world.


    "Alright, then! The moment one of you decides to go send my offer to duel, the rest will be treated fairly as prisoners! However, until then, one of you dies every five minutes!" That was milliseconds in the lifespan of an Elf with relativity being concerned. It should get their blood pumping and get one of them to act out of ''reflex.'' "You can go ahead and start, Ilych."


    Ilych came forward without a word and loomed over the Elves in pitch black, segmented armor and a flowing mane of hair. The snarling helmet that she wore was tucked under one arm, while she looked at them with dispassion. She held her massive sword, capable of killing whole groups of men with a single cut, like it was a toy.


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    Without a word, she brought it down on the Elf closest to her. Sheer mass and speed alone turned the Elf into nothing more than paste, practically vaporizing him, and enrobing all those close to him in blood and viscera.


    Five minutes kept passing, while we all watched and waited, until one finally spoke up and volunteered covered by the blood of six others.


    Half an hour, six lives, and the remaining few dozen get to live instead of getting tortured to death or tortured for centuries and centuries.


    As good of a deal as any.


    ?


    Interlude: Rita.


    ?


    I awoke bereft of memory and purpose, but since then have known only war.


    Battle after battle.


    Life after life taken.


    Killing to not be killed.


    I didn''t understand why I fought, or why I did as I was bid, but slowly I came to understand.


    All this violence and destruction was to end it all.


    We fought so that those who could speak could find better conclusions.


    We fought so threats in the future would not arise.


    We fought to bring together a world broken by conflict and disparity.


    We fought to protect the people who could make the world a little better with every footstep, with every arrow loosed, and life taken.


    We fought for people who believed in peace and justice, such as Jack, the Boy King.


    Someone who saved far more than he killed.


    "Rita, are you ready?" Ilych loomed over me. Might and magic made manifest. A budding rose and peerless beauty that ravaged armies in her wake. The foolish looked to her and tried to woo her heart. If they tried their luck without her allowance, they were beaten down and nearly crippled. With her hands alone, she could tear me apart like a doll. "The winds bid you to fight."


    "I am." Once, I was another person. Faint memories arose from within. Times spent with others, plotting to kill others, and a hatred for all other life. All were there for me to see and understand, to search for truths and tactics, so that I may be a better killer. "I will be victorious."


    "Good."


    I went forward to face the man who was once loved by the inhabitant of my body.


    He was the mage-king of the Children of the Elm. Clad in emerald robes upon a lean and tall form, he came into battle astride an armored stag. In one hand was a tall tower shield, and the other was a staff, both ancient treasures of the Children of the Elm. Wherever the shield was pointed, arrows would be diverted, and the staff could call upon nature itself to attack the foe, while he channeled his own magics.


    "You DARE?! You mongrels unworthy of life dare to have my own face me!? A thousand lifetimes of death and despair would be a mercy!" Green eyes beneath a golden brow contorted with rage, while I readied my arrows. The equipment given to me molded with my consciousness, telling me each of their potential, and my mind composed a tactic to defeat my foe with them in mind. "I will slaughter you all upon my victory here! It is the only mercy that I shall grant to you!"


    The Mage-King of the Children of the Elm stood with his few remaining soldiers at this back, along with the Citadel towering high into the sky. At my back was Jack and his own army, almost uncountable, and I was comforted with the knowledge that even with my failure¡­ victory was only away by a single tradition cast aside.


    Though, I had no intention of losing my second life.


    "Okay, you can do that! That''s allowed in war, I believe!" Jack shot back and a few chuckles arose from his protective detail and all those who could hear him from our side. This infuriated the Mage-King further and his focus was entirely upon Jack. This was an opening. "Now, how about we start?"


    The Mage-King''s response was to raise his shield up, while his stag lowered its head to charge at me with its horns tipped with sharpened steel. It was a terrifying charge to behold. The stag was gifted with supernatural power, and so it crossed the distance between us in but fractions of a moment. As it charged, the ground rumbled, and vines began to rise from the ground as to hold me in place, while a baleful ball of flame gathered at the end of the staff.


    Immobilization.


    A charge.


    A magic-based attack.


    But it was all meant for battle against groups of soldiers. Professional, but not empowered and given ancient tools and artifacts, while also granted power beyond the grasp of most.


    With the boots activated, I lunged to the left. My senses narrowed and sharpened, like they always did when I focused to use an arrow. However, this time I was the bow and arrow both, shooting towards another location, while the world slowed to a crawl. For the first time, I felt pain and ache in my body as I moved. Even my body, given to me with magic that preserved it against the ravages of time, was being ravaged by the power I called upon to move.


    Mortals would perish using them.


    But not I.


    No normal soldier could slip between the rising roots, dodge the baleful flame, and become beyond the reach of the horns of the steed at the same moment. They would have too many people beside them, guarding the flanks, and their mass with their companions will destroy them. Crushed, burned, and forced into stillness by the roots, normal soldiery would perish in droves until the Mage-King was expended.


    By the time the infernal orb was fired, by the time the tendrils wrapped around a person no longer there, and by the time the stag reached halfway to my position¡­ I was already flanking the Mage King.


    There were shouts of fear and dismay amongst the Children.


    Hidden soldiers rose up and fired upon me, but it was too late and I was already prepared. The speedily-fired bolts aimed at me bit into my skin, but the magics meant to kill Undead were dissipated by my Amulet and did nothing to me. The ones that struck did not harm me.


    While the circlet that I wore guided my hands, influencing my singular shot, as the Mage-King desperately tried to halt his beast and move his massive shield my way.


    I poured my power into my arrow and let it loose. I endured attacks on myself, the bolts and arrows punching into skin, but their weight and force dissipated by my protections. The recoil from the Ring which I wore that allowed me to charge with such great speed, and threatened my shot, but still¡­ the moment I loosed the arrow I knew that it would strike true.


    No more than a six seconds past and the King''s head came apart like fine mist in the path of my arrow.


    A second shot, which I sent right after the first, killed his steed with a single strike to the heart.


    And, then, the battle was over¡­ and the massacre of the remaining soldiers that broke the duel began.


    All I cared for was Jack, who came forward under guard with Ilych and Riegert, towards the dead Mage King.


    Jack gave me a smile of thanks and a nod to my efforts, while all others looked at me with little care, until he gave the order for me to be healed.


    The Citadel was claimed, the Children of the Elm banished from the stage of the world, and all I felt was determination to see the war through.

 Book 1: Epilogue

    Book 1: Epilogue


    In the words of Julius Caesar: I came. I saw. I conquered.


    Or, as mutilated by the internet: I came. I saw. I came again.


    Some sex-addled neckbeard will probably commit to the second phrase, if they managed to conquer a city full of Elves. Hm? Why''d I say "they" for neckbeards?


    Being a neckbeard is a way of life, not a gender. The outsides and the genitals can be different, but thirst and incel-like behaviors can be attributed to anyone. Male neckbeards will go after the pretty female Elves. Female neckbeards will go after the pretty male Elves. Whatever gender neckbeard will go after whatever gender Elves. They''ll all be thirsty mouthbreathers who''ll die to a knife in their sleep, but I''m sure they''ll say getting laid by a 10/10 once will make it worth it¡­ or make it better.


    Moving on.


    The Elves got their Citadel occupied, we succeeded in our early game rush, and now we had two starting bases instead of one against our enemies. Combining that advantage with the fact that we had the troops to seize lots of artifacts, I considered the early game a win and now we could focus on defending, teching up, and improving our economy.


    Once again, if we try to do more than hold our ground and play on the defensive, everyone else was going to dogpile us.


    The risk wasn''t worth it.


    And, I was glad that Riegert and Khanrow thought the same way.


    However, I wasn''t at all glad at their next decision.


    As always, whenever Goths came into fashion, I found myself having to confront a form of calamity.


    ?


    "The Academy? Now?"


    "You are more than qualified"


    "I''m 13!"


    "You will soon be 14. The youngest amongst all your fellows, which will suit your legend well and mitigate the effects of your age in other''s eyes." Khanrow and I were in the super-secret, underground command center of the Citadel. He had both rings on his fingers now, which allowed the two Citadels to link together. "While we consolidate our gains, you will spend the four necessary years in the Academy to learn how to rule and whatever other talents you deem necessary."


    Two Citadels meant that they now shared energy, worked more efficiently with one another, and had power for other systems. So, at the center of the room, we now had real-time imagery of both provinces, and all the outposts activated automatically. We now had the means to effectively use quick-reaction forces, which meant enemyarmies in our region were going to have higher costs, and get lower health if they couldn''t front it.


    "Okay, but have you considered the fact that I''ll be alone in a university with hundreds of people bigger and stronger than me?"


    "The perfect place for a young lord to gain retainers. It''s how I met Riegert."


    "If I wanted to know about your love life, I''d have asked."


    "Hah. You''re better when you''re brave, child."


    "Being a coward got me to where I am now, so I''m not going to complain."


    I glared at Khanrow, but he just kept chuckling. Meanwhile, I looked back at the Artifacts that we appropriated from the Elves.


    "Did they have anything useful?"


    "Plenty, but it''s good they didn''t know what they were. Guess reading literature not written by their people is below them." I grumbled, but returned to my work, barely pretending that I didn''t know what they were by consulting a large book of records of artifacts found throughout history. "The staff their king used is a part of something bigger. There''s two more parts. If they''re found and attached, the caster can create forests in an instant."


    "That will be quite useful on the battlefield."


    "Yeah." There was a lot of bullshit you could pull off with it, especially with a mostly ranged faction. Block cavalry charges, provide cover for your squishy units, and even hide the Elves'' version of siege weapons in it too. There are few things more frustrating that seeing a literal line of forests streaming after you knowing that there''s massive, armored bears running through them. By massive, I mean house-sized. Middle-class. American housing too, which means almost three stories and bordering on excessive. "Best we get rid of it, because only the Children of the Elm can use it, and we can''t trust them¡­ in our lifetimes, at least."


    "On that, I agree. My agents have already determined that there are cells being formed amongst the people we have captured, despite our mercy. I will be conducting crackdowns on their population soon, and taking newborns and those young enough to be raised elsewhere." The warcrime siren rang in my head, but I shrugged it off. Was I still condoning it by not speaking out? Most likely. But, these guys literally looked at their unlooted homes, barely any changes to any laws, and unraised taxes and got to planning a rebellion/insurrection/mass murder campaign right away. The silken glove was slapped away and spit on, so the steel-plated fist was going to come down. "I will have it destroyed. What about the others?"


    "Good ones. This circlet will increase vision range and sight time, while this bracer will allow blows to pass through at least half of the armor." The first was for Rita and the second for Ilych. I didn''t know how Ilych''s level ups were currently going, but adding armor penetration to AoE damage has always been a broken combo. I''m sure I can just tell her to murder a whole cavalry brigade and she''ll get it done. "The last one should be good for anyone. Charm of protection. Keeps you a little safer and not dead by warding off weaker attacks."


    "You take that one then, so that some of your concerns can be mitigated." Gee, thanks. Now I''ll survive a few more seconds than I should. Fuck that. I''m taking the easy way out if someone comes after me. That goes off and I''m dying quick and easy, while hopefully popping up in another world. Dammit, I shouldn''t bank on that being what happens if I die. "The Academy is the best place for you to be now. Go there and you will meet your future foes and allies. Do everything in your power to be victorious¡­ after all, I''d wager that there is no place safer than a Citadel."


    "Yeah, yeah. I get it."


    Khanrow chuckled again, while I poured over my book.


    It was better than how things were a few years ago.


    I was indispensable to the point where I had to be sent away to be trained. Though this was going to be terrible for my reputation in the short term, because reputations needed to be cultivated, it was also an opportunity.


    I had to play the game Khanrow wanted me to play, in that I needed to get retainers like Riegert on my side, while making as many alliances as I could.


    This was a gauntlet being thrown down: lose your reputation and become a pawn again, or increase it immensely and become somebody.


    Still, given Khanrow''s mindset and the fact that me being a pawn would be safer in the long term¡­


    "Ah, yes. Ilych and Rita will be coming along to guard you, so that should assuage your concerns."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    There it fucking is.


    How the hell am I supposed to make friends and influence people if I have a seven-foot tall "human" berserker and an Undead, Elvish rogue hanging out around me!?


    Perhaps most importantly, I''m entering puberty, while having those two around all the time!?


    And, they''re going to be in uniforms instead of combat gear!?


    Do you understand how likely it is that I''ll overstep my authority as a stupid teenager raging with hormones and get myself killed by one of the two!?


    I''m really going to have to get myself neutered, aren''t I?


    ?


    Riegert stayed behind to do what needed to be done, and then scour the region for artifacts, while the rest of us made the trek back.


    Surprisingly, while I was wallowing in the necessity of absolutely crippling my libido somehow, a bright, shining star appeared in the distance.


    An Orc expedition led by Crusher.


    Naturally, I asked to meet with him, and we did.


    This time I pulled out all the stops to impress my favorite Champion.


    Several whole roasted pigs, fresh vegetables from Elven farms, and whole barrels of wine. Enough to feed a hundred men, but barely enough for me, Ilych, Rita, and Crusher with his guards.


    "Hmph, Boy King, your intention is obvious. Know that the Conquerors are not fools who disregard courtesy." The Orc took a whole leg of a pig and took a bite of it like a chicken leg. His guards ate first to check for poison, but they only started truly eating after he did. For a few moments, there was nothing but the noises of living war machines eating along with us, until Crusher spoke again. "I heard of your victory against the Children of the Elm. You laid their Guardians low by bringing your own. It will not work against us."


    "I hope not. I''d hate to have to fight your people and Guardians at the same time. At least, without five men for every one you have."


    "You shame us. You will need at least ten soldiers for every one of ours."


    "For your Citadel, sure. In the open field, without Wyverns, five to one will do."


    "My people will have them soon enough."


    "Sure, sure." Good luck with that quest chain. I''m not looking forward to the quest chain that gives me rifle lines, but I need to get it done too. "So, how''s the Citadel? It make you all soft enough to kill easily, yet?"


    "The comforts enjoyed by the Ancients are indeed too much. Too many hunt too little, and too many have started to use weapons forged from its foundries instead of ones made from good hunts." Crusher levelled a glare at me, but he didn''t deny my words. His guards shifted. They had massive broadswords that were conspicuously bound in tattered rags and worn leather, but in the gaps between I saw the pure-white material of the Ancients. Nice try, guys. "But if it has not made your people weak, it will not weaken us."


    Ooh, compliments are so nice to hear.


    "I look forward to bringing your people under my banner once we''ve got our bearings. It''s unfortunate that attacking you will make us targets for anyone else."


    That earned me a single, bombastic chuckle that resounded through the tent. It made the walls even shift a bit.


    Awesome.


    How can you be this fucking cool?


    Really, only a giant robot or two would make this better.


    "We will use our time well and conquer you instead. Though, first, we will find weaker meat to cut through and grow strong from." Crusher admitted and showed off why I liked the Orcs. They always invested in their Diplomacy tree. A fight avoided is a fight won for these guys. "Then, with the Conquerors at the helm, three or four Citadels shall rid this world of the insanity that has overtaken it. All will be peoples once more, and only animals will be meat."


    "Then, I can rest easy. That sounds just fine to me, if I lose!" I laughed and took a bite of some roasted pork. The perks of being rich allowed me to have access to spices and everything else that was fancy just fine. The Citadels being able to grow most spices and plants helped. So, the roasted pork was spicy, delicious, meaty, and fatty. There was a certain gaminess, since they lived harder lives and ran around more, but I just thought that was a plus. "If you don''t mind, I''d like to be sent to the far southern islands. I''ve always wanted to be surrounded by the sea!"


    I said that like a joke, but I meant it.


    If my people lose, please exile me to the tropics, which''ll get hit last.


    Unfortunately, Crusher shook his head at my request.


    "No. You have proven yourself. Your skill and ability is known to us. We have spoken to the peoples between your lands and the Children''s. Our agents have spoken to your own people. Exile would be a waste." Oh no, the faction that I like the most wants to keep me around as a Champion if they beat me. Damn, it feels so awful to be wanted by the coolest dudes in the setting. Not. Oh, right, they were talking about being great at gathering info. I think this is the Espionage tree''s most basic investment: Ears to the Ground, which just gives you access to Faction Reputation. Apparently, I''m great. "You will be given a dukedom, rule over your lands, and wedded to a woman of our tribe."


    Rule over a Citadel? No thanks.


    Political clout in a massive alliance? I''ll pass.


    Having a tall, bff, and buxom Orc wife? Hngrhf.


    Must resist.


    Damn, puberty, you''re scary!


    "Well, that''s too bad. I''ll exile you if you want, though!"


    "You dare imply that I won''t redeem my honor by fighting for a new peace!?"


    "I said, if you want!"


    I rolled my eyes at the glare sent my way, before noticing Ilych nudging my shoulder with her elbow.


    Yes, my shoulder.


    Not my ribs.


    Hell, she was probably going to end up nudging my skull in the future.


    Anyway, she wanted to hear about the Orcs and their information gathering ability. It would be a diplomatic failure to just ask, so I went with the next best thing.


    "Oh, right. What did you guys hear about me? I''m curious."


    Crusher barely took a moment to nod and swallowed a third of a rump with a single bite.


    "Evil flees in your presence, or are put to the sword. Villages with long years of misfortune are graced by your presence. Nothing but peace and prosperity arise in the path of your armies, unlike others." Crusher spoke and I sat just a little straighter. Man, getting praised by your favorite character in real life sure gives you a heady feeling. I almost feel like I can float. "The Citadel you call home is filled with joy and happiness, and your soldiers will fight to the death at your command. The few Children of the Elm that managed to flee curse your name, but the actions of their Mage King are known to the world, and they will find little aid from any other."


    Crusher took a deep draught from a small barrel of wine before finishing with his gaze locked onto mine.


    It was hard to keep smiling.


    "You are known as the heir of this whole continent, your enemies will know your measure, and all will come for your throne. Prepare yourself, King of Wisdom."


    Fuck.


    I painted a massive target on my back.

 V2: Chapter 1:

    <div>


    <div>


    ¡­


    The Academy sat at the center of the continent, encircled by mountains, and inside a fertile valley. That fertile valley was worked by several walled cities with standing armies, which focused on mercantilism, agriculture, and production of everything from nails and hammers all the way to magical arms and armor. Those cities each held a gate at a mountain pass, and they looked to the lands connected to those gates as their customers for all that they plied¡­ and places to exploit.


    The merchant cities of the Academy represented the "market" of the game, at the start. If you wanted mercenary Champions, access to strategic or luxury resources you didn''t have, or whole divisions of mercenaries, the player had to fight their way there, connect their capital via road, and then have the money and funds to do what they needed.


    It prevented people getting lucky with a random event, selling the strategics or luxuries they stumbled upon for cash, and grabbing some elite units early. A lot of people cried about the "MarketMercRush" dying, but we got over it as a community, and moved on. That is to say, the forums were radioactive for a few weeks, and I only came back when people found something else more palatable to complain over.


    But I''m digressing.


    When I was a player, I questioned why so many leaders looked at the destruction of the Academy and the need to research and rebuild the market system as a good thing.


    As someone who actually lives in the setting now, I knew the truth.


    It wasn''t some barb at higher education being shit, like most of the mouthbreathers thought.


    It was because the Academia were just massive shitters across the board in-universe.


    The Academy and the merchant cities were taking advantage of the crisis at hand. Sure, it would have been a difficult affair, and it would''ve risked the only functional civilization base on the continent, but they could''ve tried to unite everyone under one banner. They had enough food to be the main exporters, they could field armies, and they were sending out spare nobility to lead mercenary companies. They had the means to produce masses of soldiers and they just basically threw spare officers with them into the continent for hire.


    A continent where most people were lucky to reach fifty, where a lot of kids were living as battleground scrappers, where most women considered themselves lucky to get into some warlord''s good graces, and where most men lived and died by the sword. It''s an overgeneralization, and I''m ignoring loads of peoples, but the general gist is that everyone could''ve been living better lives if the people with existing infrastructure, food, and military decided to step in. They weren''t. Instead they were selling bodies, food, and weapons at a massive markup, while purchasing whatever they fancied from the conflict-ravaged regions.


    That''s right.


    The Academy were operating off multiple variations of the European colonialism structures. They weren''t as exploitative as the Belgians, but they did their fair share of resource extraction. They poured in weapons, armor, and luxuries to have warlords kill each other and buy from the winners like the British, but didn''t establish colonies that would end up independent. They took in the upper class and talented like the Spanish, elevating them into a lesser nobility through Champions and officers through the Academy¡­ but didn''t go as far as to send armies to hold territory.


    If I looked closer, I''d definitely find more, but that was the gist of things.


    Basically, they were working off of some sort of demented system where mercantilism and colonialism intertwined.


    They took no risks, stayed on the sidelines, and made massive profits selling and buying anything of value.


    Yeah, these guys deserved what was coming to them.


    ?


    The carriage trundled forward, thankfully with suspension, so I didn''t bite my tongue off while we journeyed towards the Academy. Now, a carriage didn''t sound like much for an up-and-coming King with two Citadels at his command, but that wasn''t all that was involved with my transfer.


    My entourage numbered in the hundreds. Mounted heavy and light cavalry trundled along the sides. Mages on horseback were concealed amongst them, while they kept protections against magical attacks up. We had a vanguard clearing the way and preparing the path a day ahead, and they patrolled the roads between us and them steadfastly, while wagons packed with regular foot soldiers ready to dismount and fight off anyone created a caravan train, especially with the supplies and treasure we had on hand.


    That''s right, there''s no such thing as traveling light as a dignitary in this day and age.


    I didn''t recall his name, but there was an African king back in my world that destabilized whole countries by just being generous with his payments during his travel. Some part of me just laughed at ancient people making mistakes we learned from, but now I understood how that happened. My procession towards my place of learning had a small army as guards, and supporting them were officers, cooks, and other logistical staff.


    The caravan train had a treasurer aboard, and several wagons of treasure to both pay for my education and board, but also to pay the soldiers that were going to be housed in the outer series of villages that surrounded that academy. Many of these soldiers were going to go back and forth from home to the Academy, ferrying treasure and replacements each time, and they were going to be spending their wages along that route, along all the towns we stopped by, and where they were going to be garrisoned.


    This was less of a simple trip and more an outright establishment of a trade-route, but I could see how this could easily change the economy and society of the route we were traveling.


    Because having two Citadels at our disposal meant that we were effectively twice as rich as our nearest rival, and we received more from the Citadels, because we had more of their systems online than others. Our hydroponics could produce mountains of spices, since we had plenty of food. All our soldiers had better arms and armor, which kept their life expectancy up, and got rid of the bandits in our territory. More of our soldiers could be healed from grievous wounds, too. Not only that, but we received a lot of prestige from our victory, leading to more people coming our way, which meant we could produce more, make more money, and gain more prestige.


    It was a snowball effect, but not big enough for everyone else to band together and kill us.


    Money, influence, and power in such amounts that just making sure I was guarded during my education had a chance of destabilizing the local economy where I went.


    "Man, being rich has issues, but it''s better than being poor." A lot better than being poor. Even though there were a lot of costs involved, eye-watering expenses most of all, it was a lot better than ripping leather belts and boots off of corpses. I could still smell those rotten hunks of meat to this day. If anything, it was getting worse, since my new life of luxury made for a terrifying contrast. "And¡­ I''m talking to myself again."


    No one was in my wagon with me. It was a matter of security. I was traveling in a nondescript one from the outside, while all my guards were dressed plainly. The fancy one was up ahead and a decoy. There were two other carriages in the caravan that I regularly moved into, as well. Overall, safety was the highest priority, even in Academy lands, because I happened to be the rising power on the continent.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Or, rather, Khanrow and Riegert were, because the two of them were the ones really pulling the strings.


    At the very least, though, I managed to get some fame and clout in the acquisition of the latest Citadel and now I had a chance to learn more and get more allies at the Academy.


    Hopefully, I won''t have to ever talk to myself again.


    Hopefully, I can get enough clout and useful people that I can do what I want instead of having my life dictated to me.


    And, finally, I hoped that no Academy events will pop up, because they''re all bullshit and dangerous, no matter how good their rewards are.


    Ah, who am I kidding?


    All the events are going to pop and I''m going to have to confront each and every single one of them.


    ?


    There was no great procession heading up a massive set of stairs into a massive castle with far too many health-and-safety violations.


    There was no great hall meant for everyone to eat at and converse in four separate houses.


    Finally, there was no shared dormitory for everyone else.


    The Academy is a place where the absolute cream of the crop of the continent came to learn how to be even better. Those blessed with magic went forth to become more than mages that shot fireballs or put up shields, they went to be able to control the weather to alleviate droughts over whole swathes of land, or shatter armies with thunderstorms. Peerless warriors on the battlefield came to understand how to put their talents to better use, and what to acquire, so that they became tyrants on the battlefield. Heirs to small cities or alliances of small towns came to the Academy to become conquerors of whole regions, or create alliances or federations that dominated those same regions.


    It''s not a place for coming of age stories.


    It''s a damn university, and I''m four years early for it.


    "Greetings, King of Wisdom." My caravan took up the whole of the entrance. The troops rapidly made formations while the wagons were arranged to provide protection from the sides. More than a few of the students of the Academy were peering over wall of the massive gate structure. Most people wouldn''t be able to see from the height they were at, since the wall was almost ten stories tall, but they were able to manage with magic. Anyway, I was talking to a formal envoy of the Academy, who himself was guarded by at least a hundred men in two blocks of fifty. We outnumbered them substantially¡­ and had better equipment, so I was sure whoever was really in charge was sweating bullets. "The tales do your legend no justice. The might of your escort alone has quelled any doubt of the might of your lands."


    It took no effort whatsoever to act my part as a very cheerful, but smart kid.


    "Thank you, I''m happy to hear that, but can we please go in already? My soldiers have worked very hard to get me here quickly." King of Wisdom wasn''t an appropriate name. King of Having-Way-Too-Many-Hours-In-The-Game was more accurate. I got the name from knowing the right actions to commit to during events, and knowing which Artifact was which. Anyway, my whole act was being a fantastic figurehead for my nation and doing my part in getting us the big W over anyone else, while Khanrow and Riegert dealt with the military and espionage parts of the campaign. I was stuck with politics, while they did the fun stuff. The bastards. "Let''s do all the traditional things after my soldiers have gotten some rest, okay?"


    I said it all as nicely as I possibly could.


    Now, good food and constant exercise go a long way, but developing for my initial ten years as a starving, scavenging orphan made my growth less than ideal. I''d like to say that it wasn''t the case, but I definitely wasn''t reaching my old height in my previous life. Well, once we get three Citadels under our control, I was going to get access to some incredible rejuvenation systems and health buffs to all my troops, but that was going to be years from now.


    Anyway, despite hitting puberty, my voice didn''t deepen that much and I wasn''t growing that much either. No sudden jump from five feet to nearly six, which was disappointing, but less body hair was welcome and no sudden appearance of a beard was great too. Some would say that I should go out of my way to look older, but being underestimated helped make whatever I did look more impressive at minimal cost.


    But back to the situation.


    "Then, it shall be done as you say, King of Wisdom." The envoy did his best to not look relieved, but the captain of his guarding force actually relaxed at my words. That was a good enough message for me to realize that I recognized the situation properly and acted in my best interest. The Academy saved face in front of all my firepower, and I would be greeted by an ''overwhelming'' force to ensure compliance with their rules. "Now, I would like to ask you to follow me, so that I can escort you to your abode¡ª


    There was a sudden shift in the air, and in an instant both Ilych and Rita were ready for battle at my side.


    I barely managed to keep smiling as the Rivalry Event triggered via one of the opposing factions landing from atop the massive gate with a great plume of dust erupting from the ground.


    Everyone was covered by the deluge, but I made a small barrier of wind to protect myself.


    Looks are everything.


    In fact, when you boiled everything else away, my looks were all I had, so I made sure to keep myself looking good.


    Besides, it was pretty important for this event.


    A loud booming noise like a thunderclap echoed around us, and the dust was blown aside in every direction. Rita and Ilych were both ready for battle, but they were unprepared for what was to come.


    Most people tended to be.


    "King of Wisdom, I am Celia of House Adil. I declare you my rival." Necromancer faction leader. Straight hair, pure white, and skin the color of bone with stark red eyes. Unnatural beauty born from a combination of magic and what once was. This was a Vampire Heir, one of the best ones for the faction, and it was bad that she and all her stupid stats were what I had to contend with in all the Events. But¡­ this was also an opportunity. "Whomsever reigns supreme in the Academy shall lord over the other! Accept this challenge and you have the chance of bringing my people under your command forevermore without grievance¡ª


    An opportunity, because I could get an alliance with my rival''s faction if I win, and only a minor loss in reputation if I discard my loss as some silly game.


    One Citadel allied to us, if I win.


    A minor hit in reputation if I lose.


    Yeah, I cut her off and agreed with a smile.


    "Oh, that sounds fun! Let''s do that¡­ but my men still need to rest, so let''s talk about it later! Bye!"


    And, with that said, I walked past the Vampire Heir that hero-landed in front of me and brushed the dust off the Academy Envoy to get him to move things along.


    Overall, not a bad start.


    </article>

 V2: Chapter 2:

    V2: Chapter 2:


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    My axe found its way into the beast''s spine and it roared once before relinquishing its hold on life. Its great mass soon floundered and fell onto the ground with a heavy thud, and I leapt from its back a moment later.


    No sooner did my feet touch the ground did I find someone else before me.


    "Captain." I was greeted by Gunther. His face was sour and wrinkled, and his head bereft of a single hair. However, he stood tall and mighty. Only a headless tall as I. If he had the chance to attend the Academy, a mighty warrior from legend would''ve arisen upon the continent. As he was, he made up for his lack of understanding with a keen mind for strategy. He made for a good lieutenant. "You''re slower than usual. Missing your daughter?"


    He''d be better without such a sharp tongue.


    "Yes, I am. Just as I''ve said the past ten times you''ve asked." I grumbled and shook my head, while refocusing on the battle. My personal guard was putting down the lesser kin of the immense spider. Orbs of light filled the ceiling of the dark cave that we fought in, showering the many large webs of the place with light, and allowing us to fight in the depths. "But Ilych is where she''s meant to be."


    We couldn''t hope to give her what she needed with us.


    The Academy was the only place where she could reach her true potential.


    Still¡­


    "I''ll keep asking until you believe it, Captain." Gunther chuckled and shook his head, before gesturing at the end of the massive cavern that we fought in. "I do believe that''s the gate the scouts mentioned. Do you still have the key?"


    "Of course."


    We moved forward. The sound of battle against chittering, many-legged creatures fading as we proceeded to be replaced by the footfall of disciplined boots.


    At the end of the cavern was a gate, like many others, of the Ancients.


    "For those who reclaim what was lost." I breathed out the words written again and again on the doors. Millennia since their downfall, and unmaintained, but the Ancient''s contraptions remained whole and hale. The massive sealing door was the size of a castle gate, impossible to move with strength, and yet with me simply pressing a slip of a metal enchanted by the Ancient''s against it¡­ the letters changed. "Take everything and fight."


    The Ancients hid, they stored away legendary treasures, and died forgotten amongst all the races.


    Why?


    Who was so powerful that the Ancients could do nothing but run and hide and be forgotten forever?


    These questions burned in my mind, as the simple gate our people couldn''t hope to move, let alone construct, lifted itself up to grant us entry.


    What lay beyond was a room of pure marble and gold. Shelves once full lay empty and barren. Stands for full suits of armor deprived of anything to hold. Racks for weapons unknown to us laid against the walls bereft of their ancient wonders. It was looted, everything, and all that was left were things that the Ancients themselves could not bear to ever think lost.


    "It never gets old, does it?" Gunther murmured, as we stepped inside. He spoke of the cleansing magics that drifted over us. Grime, dirt, and even small cuts faded from our bodies and energy returned to us. "If these places weren''t so far, we could make a killing just to walk in."


    "You''d use what little power this place has left within a few years." The Ancients did not leave behind their sources of true power. None of that remained after their destruction. All that was left were things that called upon the ambient energy around the world, just like many of their Artifacts. Places like this one would have its stores easily spent, but take long to replenish. "Then, you''ll wait decades to have it return."


    "Then, I''ll just have to make enough to get rich within those years, no?" Gunther chuckled and I laughed lowly myself. We reached the end of the place, where the vault was. I felt a gaze upon me, settle upon the slip of a key that I held, and it hissed open to release air that the Ancients once breathed. "Damn. No treasure this time?"


    "You''ll get your dues for the danger presented." Gunther grumbled, but he was content. The pay was generous and we had plenty of healers. Our soldiers knew to stay with us. "Give me the cannister?"


    "Huh, really? It doesn''t look that dangerous, Captain."


    "The Ancients rarely make anything look dangerous."


    "And, now I''m afraid to take another step without some lucrative assurances, Captain."


    "Bastard."


    "Heh."


    Still, Gunther handed me the canister and I made my way to the singular treasure left in this "safehold."


    It was a short spear, barely half my height, yet the script upon it was nothing but endless warnings. No other artifact came to mind when I compared it to all that I recalled. By all intents, it seemed to only be a blood-red short spear, which any blacksmith with the proper materials could make. The metal canister we had was developed for centuries by all those who studied ancient technology, and its insides were lined with innumerable protections against magics and attacks.


    Still, my instincts screamed at me to approach it with care¡­ and it saved my life.


    "Captain!"


    "I''m fine."


    I grunted as I pulled the spear back and away from my face. My hand was scored by innumerable barbs that erupted from its surface. This was a weapon composed for the finest elite soldiery of the Ancient''s undead armies: the Guardians of the Moon. It supped upon my blood and lengthened, empowering itself with every drop that it drank, but it was still weak¡­ and the cannister''s protections accounted for its power.


    The excess mass sloughed off it once near the container, and soon enough Gunter was chanting a low spell to fight off any infection, while another of my men called for a healer.


    It was a powerful artifact amongst the Undead and they will pay a hefty price for it¡­ and Ilych just wrote back to me about the Guardian''s future leader declaring a rivalry with Jack.


    Was this an omen of us joining hands with the Guardians and regaining the armies of the Ancients?


    Or, was this a cruel portent that we would have to surrender a treasure to not be turned into vassals?


    I knew not the answer, but there was no need for now.


    All I could do now was work hard and prepare the path forward for the next generation.


    ?


    Fourteen years old and in college sounded kinda like hell, but college in the current day was¡­ honestly a breeze.


    Sure, I was surprised by how advanced some things were. Calculus was a thing, and so was physics, because of their studies and research on magic. I''d go as far as to say their understanding of biology was far more advanced than back home, but back home we had to develop drugs instead of wave a magic stick around after figuring out the disease. However, I had the best tutors since Khanrow could get his hands on them, and I had more years in me than most people thought.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    And, more importantly, there was just nothing else for me to do.


    Not having to work full shifts between classes, and not having distractions beyond books and the odd performance at the theatre, just made learning more¡­ personal?


    Actually interesting, I suppose, would be the best way to put it.


    Like a non-stop wiki binge, I suppose.


    One that had some annoying pop-ups.


    "At the library, again!?" I thought the rivalry event was just a couple of situations. While your Champion was present at the academy, you''ll get one event regarding the rivalry every other turn. Now, I realized those were just the big events and the truth was that having a rival for life was far more constant than I expected. "How much time do you intend¡ªyou''ve brought food this time."


    "Oh, hi! Yeah, I did. They let me since I asked nicely." I also bought upgrades to the chairs and tables, got some cubicles put in, and offered to get a new wing installed. It was all for prestige, and Khanrow approved, so money was no object. Can you really call yourself rich, if you can''t convince the continent''s most prestigious library that you can snack around ancient, irreplaceable tomes? "Do you want some, Lady Adil?"


    "Oh, thank you¡­ wait a moment!" At the very least, this Vampire had a sense of humor about things. It was kinda fun to catch her off-guard with the cute and innocent act. "This isn''t about food. You''re wasting your time as my rival! Do you understand how much of a fool I will look, if you cannot even compare to me!?"


    "I''m sorry, I didn''t think of that¡­ but aren''t my grades better than yours?"


    "Urk." I didn''t hesitate to pull out the better grades card. Technically, it shouldn''t matter much in my hands. I''m literally older than most of my fellow students, and I had a lot less responsibilities and money. Those three advantages pretty much made me undefeatable academically, so I held the number one spot in terms of grades with ease. "T-that is indeed the case, but there is more to the Academy than grades alone. The tournament will soon be taking place and you are unfit for battle¡ª


    "Ilych and Rita will be participating as my champions there. They''re strong enough, right?" I beamed at the Vampire. My words almost made her go completely white, as opposed to the deep pallor she usually had. She had to hold onto the desk to keep herself steady. Naturally, I was understating things. Those two were monsters amongst Academy attendees. Their grades were average in everything else, but the excelled where they were meant to excel, which was more worrying for most people¡­ including my ''rival.'' "I think Ilych will be jousting¡­ on foot! She was complaining that she can''t find a horse big enough, so she''s been practicing the tilt on foot, ah-hah!"


    "What? On foot? Is she an Orc in disguise?" No, just an overpowered, crazy rogue-like character in a world where balance is everything. She''s closer to eight feet than seven at this point, can run fast as hell, and easily do so while covered in as much armor as a horse. So, since armored knights were the main battle tanks of this age¡­ yeah, the Vampire had every reason to be confused and horrified. Even in this world with literal sorcerers and people who could use swords to cut through armor plating with ease, Ilych was a freak. "And that Undead Elf¡­ she used to be a graduate of this place. One who earned set all the records in archery! How is she allowed to compete!?"


    Money.


    Influence.


    Power.


    All three of which I technically had.


    But my answer was simpler.


    "The Academy''s just very nice, I suppose!" I said with a big grin and a smile, even when Celia turned a disbelieving gaze on me. I munched on some grapes, and turned the page on my books, and proceeded to nod at her. "Is there anything else you wanted to ask about, Lady Adil? I''m sure that I''ll be a good rival for you!"


    I''m gonna win every event and harvest every reward, while putting your nose into the damn dirt by cheating my ass off.


    Every point of stat gain.


    Every ounce of renown.


    Every artifact.


    I''m taking it all atop what the Academy offers.


    It''s not like I have anything else to do.


    ?


    I had a small manor for myself, while all the other students only had suites inside the dorms. Some people apparently made a fuss, until they got shown the bill for the Academy''s offering. Suffice to say, the three-story tall, Victorian manor was luxurious to most, but it was quaint at best for me. Frankly, I was glad that it had magical lights in every room, even if the room in question was bathed in varnished wood, burgundy colors, and bronze.


    It was almost gaudy to just exist in the place, but as long as I could read in peace, I thought it was fine¡­ which meant that I rarely could read in peace.


    Because I didn''t have time to waste.


    I barely spent any time in it.


    In fact, I spent of my time outside of it looking over a mob of armored, professional soldiers with Rita and Ilych flanking me.


    "Alright, everything in order!" Ilych nodded at my proclamation and so did Rita. Our retinue of guards and soldiers nodded too. "Let''s go explore the nearby ruins!"


    This was technically a series of events later down the questline. After being judged capable and powerful enough, third-year students were allowed to go into the surrounding, large ruins that the Academy was built over and search it for artifacts. Since this used to be the capital of the Ancients, and they built a lot of their industry underground to keep everything aboveground cleaner, there was plenty below.


    Plenty that I could access with bribes and a show of my capabilities.


    Was it going to piss off my classmates?


    Totally.


    But, if they knew what I knew and had what I had, then they''d do the same.


    My peers can''t shame me, because I know that they wouldn''t hesitate to do what I could if they had the ability.


    "Let''s go!"


    Operation "Steal Everything Worth Stealing" is now in effect.


    As long as I''m stationed here to learn, I''m doing everything I can to get stronger and more powerful.


    Friends and allies?


    Connections with future leaders?


    Pfft.


    With the right gear at the best rarity, alliances are just a matter of saving time.


    Shiny, beautiful, and powerful equipment makes winning a guarantee, therefore: loot > friendship.

 V2: Chapter 3:

    V2: Chapter 3:


    ¡­


    Once the Academy is gone, replaced by the endgame faction and gaining all their arable land and defensive terrain advantages, the whole place basically becomes the final level of the game. The endgame faction fills the whole area up with top-tier defenses, gets all the field statuses that buffs them and debuffs anyone else, and they start bringing Ancient structures back online. It''s all a very convenient way of boosting the endgame faction up to be a threat that can''t just be rolled over, like in the 0.5 days.


    Those were good times.


    Anyway, endgame areas with endgame enemies are naturally filled with endgame loot dungeons. Sure, your Champions had to have high levels and good equipment, and be accompanied by great soldiers, but they could investigate the revamped Ancient ruins for sweet, sweet loot. How sweet? The average drops from the endgame loot dungeons are Purples. Sixty percent super rare drops. Blues, just one rank below, are twenty percent drops. The last twenty percent is all Orange/Mythical/the good shit.


    Also, yes.


    The Devs totally gave the Mythics and Rares the same drop chance so they could laugh at the forum posts. If you don''t get a Legendary, you''re getting a Rare or a Mythic, therefore if you get a Rare you lose twice over.


    Once again, I salute those lazy bastards, even if they can''t be bothered to balance the vanilla champions.


    What was I talking about again?


    Oh, right.


    Looting everything around the Academy before it gets turned into a Fortress of Doom.


    Since I wasn''t limited by game mechanics to sending only one Champion and one Unit into the ruins, I figured I could attempt some endgame stuff while going to school.


    If I didn''t succeed at getting what I wanted, then my troops gain experience.


    If I did succeed, even with some casualties, I got my hands on endgame gear before the mid-game pops off.


    Overall, the risk was low and either prize was fine, so there was no need for me to hesitate.


    What''s that?


    Everyone will see me as a power-hungry megalomaniac with little social skill and my reputation will be ruined the moment I step out of the Academy?


    Who cares?


    I''ll either have supersoldiers and super-buff Champions, or super-OP Artifacts.


    Everyone else can go shit, bitch, and cry themselves to sleep about it all they want.


    I''ll have what I need.


    ¡­


    In beginning regions, Ancient ruins were outlying outposts or safehouses built during their apocalypse. The Citadels were logistical towers and they provided for the surrounding regions as combinations of administration centers, hospitals, and agricultural facilities. Watchtowers in regions linked up with them as part of a security apparatus and media distribution centers. Both sank into the ground after getting sealed away by the Ancients to deny their enemy, while the outposts were utilized until they fell into disrepair and safe houses were constructed to continue to support a guerilla war.


    That''s to say, in the starting locations, we were scavenging the leftovers of the Ancient''s last holdouts and safehouses.


    The White and Green equipment.


    Or, in gamer terms: "the stats are fine, okay!?"


    The spawn rates for good shit, the stuff you''d take even if they weren''t for your faction and wouldn''t even trade to your allies, are around 10% outside the Academy''s central region. That might seem like a high chance of spawning, especially when considering the fact that every starting region had a few dozen spawning sites. However, in context, most campaigns last a hundred turns on average and a good/bad artifact spawn at the start basically decides your whole playstyle.


    So, in short, the Academy region had a 10% higher chance of spawning the very best Artifacts, and it offered only upgrades to what you''d get from the starting areas.


    I would be a moron to not risk conquering one.


    And, so, I was going out of my way to conquer one after the other.


    Thankfully, not being limited by game mechanics, bringing in experts, and having three times the number of Champions helped out more than expected.


    "Golem!"


    "I have it." Ilych sped past me at Rita''s cry. She was an armored titan wielding a massive sword with a ruined tabard and coat hanging off her shoulders. With a swing of her blade, she took off the arm of the five-meter tall creature of stone and magic that had dropped from the ceiling to try and defeat us. Another swing and she cut through its center, breaking its core, and getting rid of the threat. "Returning to the back line to reinforce."


    "You do that!" I grunted out an affirmative after her statement. The brief moment where she left the rear line increased casualties instantly. I was sweating from all the healing that I was doing, but with all my experience and training via tending to battlefield injuries, my fatigue was manageble. It felt like I was on the tail end of a 48-hour gaming binge, my mind feeling fizzy and my eyes threatening to pop, but I held fast. The wonders of having a healthy, well-trained, and young body. It was probably mostly the young part doing the heavy lifting. "Rita, we''re almost at the end! Start using your better arrows!"


    "Yes, my lord!"


    Micromanaging was hard enough, but having to do it while leading an army was hellish. Now, I had an officer or two with me, but they were assigned to squads and dealing with situations themselves. No, the issue was that I had to give those officers commands, while also giving Rita and Ilych commands. An easy feat with key-bindings and some experience with the UI in any RTS game. I''m not a Korean, so my APM wasn''t in the hundreds, but I could micro fine enough for brutal campaigns¡­ but in real life managing a whole team while you had your own work felt like an effort in futility.


    Still, I made it work.


    "Another horde is incoming, sir!"


    "We''re almost at the gate. Fire whatever you have left!"


    "Aye!"


    Mages were quick to stop conserving their power once the order was given. Bolts of concentrated, visible wind flowed towards the Kobolds hounding us. They lived in the depths of the world alongside Goblins and other pests. They spawned quickly, had natural, scaled hides, and had tribal-levels of civilization, which meant they knew how to wage war, how to trade between groups, and had their own culture based off of surviving in the darkness.


    Meaning we were desperately holding together in the depths as a unit against tidal waves of spear-and-shield armed skirmishers.


    Without the advantage of guns and plenty of ammo.


    Augh, the things I''d do for an army of imperialist riflemen.


    My kingdom for ten thousand men who put down ten round rapids downrange and hit ten different targets.


    Anyway, I''ve healed just about everyone present, save for Ilych and Rita, a dozen times over each.


    Great gusts of wind surged through the halls at our pursuers. It was the safest magic to cast in the tunnels, and their effects were devastating. The shockwaves were designed to bring down flying cavalry. Fast enough that it would take exceptionally skilled flying to dodge, and meant to break apart flying creatures that were hundreds of pounds heavy and innately magical. Whenever a mage fired down the tunnel, it threw up dozens of Kobolds. Those at the front just broke apart, their own bones and weapons turning into shrapnel, and many around them were thrown back, flying into the tunnel walls like thrown by gale-force winds, and dying at impact.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Most didn''t die.


    They were merely broken by the attack, and they were crushed beneath the incessant march and pursuit of their fellows.


    Ilych was the only reason we weren''t dead, with her every swing bringing low swathes of the creatures, and even then they sometimes split past her and collided with our rearguard. It was a common enough occurrence that I had to heal each of them time and time again. However, it was increasing in frequency as we went deeper. Once their shields became too heavy with too many stuck projectiles, they discarded them, which eventually led to armor breaking or a lucky hit going through their padded body-covers.


    Rita, meanwhile, was our highest, single-damage DPS, so she was on anti-boss duty¡­ and she did a good job against anything that wasn''t armored.


    Her arrows pierced through giant spiders, leaving terrifying paths through them that dripped green blood. When she brought out her knives, Kobold champions turned into diced meat at her feet. Most automated Ancient defenses received an arrow through their sensors before they could activate.


    Two sets of attackers, a few tanks, and one healer for all of them.


    Naturally, I could only grit my teeth and try to endure as the singular healer and the main commander, but what else was I going to do?


    Give up on sweet, sweet loot?


    With that thought in mind, we kept going, heading towards the unknown, until we reached our destination.


    An Ancient Workshop.


    Broken and in disrepair, until the apocalypse comes along and those behind it fix it up, but that didn''t matter.


    What mattered is that it was going to have something in there that I''d want no matter what.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    "What am I looking at? And why is Jack calling me a ''lucky bastard'' because of it?"


    I raised an eyebrow while Riegert looked over the parcel with awe. He and his men returned to Talon Hills to drop off their latest findings, so I called upon him to explain what Jack found alongside everyone in the depths of the ruins the Academy ruled over.


    "I would call you the same, because this is the most precious of assets that Ancients had for their finest of scouts. It is a cloak of invisibility."


    "It looks quite visible to me."


    "Put it on and you''ll see." Riegert gestured at it and I took it. A warmth flowed from my hand into the large swathe of what was, seemingly, only cloth. In an instant the fabric changed, thinning and growing, until it could cover my whole body and even provided a cowl and fabric mask. My brow furrowed at how silly it looked, but Riegert''s eyes betrayed no jest.


    So, I proceeded and put it all on¡­ and with only the slightest of drain upon my power, the cloak shifted in colors to completely mimic my surroundings.


    "It is in perfect condition. I can''t even hear your heartbeat while straining my ears¡­ and it''s actively interfering with my sight. Even if you''re somehow found through magic, it''ll most likely fight against your foes by dazzling them with dizzying amounts of information." Riegert turned around me, but his usual distance from my person was off. He didn''t know exactly where I was, even though I felt perfectly situated. I used invisibility before. I needed a dozen mages to cast it upon me, and even then I had to be mindful of the sounds I made, and being transparent made moving more difficult. "Wait a moment¡­ draw your weapon, Khanrow?"


    I did, fetching a knife from my sleeve, and in an instant, everything tightened around me. Gloves formed perfectly around my fingers, the hood and mask came together to create a sealed fabric through which I could see perfectly. It felt like wearing perfectly fitted armor above my own clothes¡­ and though it did not feel strong, I felt safer ensconced within it. Then, I noticed it had coated my knife too in a thin sheet of itself¡­ and the moment I thought about striking with it¡­ the edge was unveiled in an instant before disappearing once again.


    I couldn''t help myself.


    "I see. Jack is jealous."


    "Who wouldn''t be!? You''re wearing the armor of ancient heroes! You cannot be perceived through magic, you cannot be heard, and only the finest senses could hope to find you." Riegert effused with giddiness. He fumbled trying to reach for my shoulders, until I turned the cloak off with a thought. "This is perfect for your current missions¡ª


    I shook my head.


    "No. Jack made a mistake. This is better with him, keeping him concealed when needed, than with me." I took it off, while Riegert''s jaw dropped. His mania over Ancient marvels overcame his good sense. I took a moment to explain the matter to him. "I have complete confidence in my ability to stay unseen and unnoticed. This concealment and protection are better served with our best, finest healer and biggest bet on the future."


    Jack.


    I left his name out of the equation, but Riegert soon managed to find his tongue in the sanctum beneath the Citadel where I spent my days.


    "I¡­ I understand, but perhaps you should reconsider? There''s so much you can do again with this power."


    "I have no doubt Artifacts of immense power are of great worth to warriors and mages, but they are tools best used sparingly by people of my craft." I lost more fellows than I cared to recall due to their reliance on magic and Artifacts. It dulled the mind, made answers to simple, when what was most important in the field was the ability to think laterally. To find a point of egress no one expects, to sneak it at the right opportunity and leave a moment later, and finally how to kill after slinking through a whole castle unnoticed. All these things were done through planning, care, skill, luck, and knowing when to leave and accept failure. Artifacts and magic muddled that equation too much. "Besides, my time as an assassin has long passed. This is better spent making sure our investment is safe."


    Riegert was silent for a long time, before speaking.


    "And, how do you expect to keep him around if we give him that? He seems to have erred on efficiency and sent it your way¡­ but if it''s returned..."


    I considered the question my friend sent my way for a long time, before nodding and answering.


    "We''ll return it to him once he''s returned and has no choice but to stay."


    "Smart. And, meanwhile¡­"


    Riegert egged me on and I glowered at the returning grin on his face.


    "Fine. I will make use of it. We have things to do anyway." I grumbled while Riegert gave a singular, loud, and echoing chuckle. I moved out of the way of his attempt to slap my back in congratulations. Instead, I turned my gaze towards the map of the continent provided to me by the Citadel. My gaze was drawn to the third Citadel that arose. The Citadel of the Conquerors. "I believe it''s time we get a look at how our prideful friends truly think, and if Jack is right once more, or if he has erred once again."


    "You''re still counting sending that Artifact your way a mistake?"


    "Be silent."


    Riegert chuckled lowly at my glare sent his way, while I did my utmost to ignore the temptation and advantages provided by the Artifact sent my way.


    Jack was proving more and more formidable as the days passed.


    I looked forward to the day when I could leave my mantle in his hands.

 V2: Chapter 4:

    V2: Chapter 4:


    Guns.


    They exist and the regular, human faction was the one that used the most of them.


    It''s only natural that some people would ask why guns were a thing here, though.


    Mages are aplenty. A third of the population can be trained up to sling fireballs, small tornadoes, and other such things within a few weeks. They needed equipment, training, and facilities dedicated to the task, but Mage units are Tier 1 hybrid artillery/archery units for all factions, which are your prime advantage against neutral armies. Put some spears between them and the masses of spiders, goblins, and other local wildlife, and sit back to watch them rain hell and win.


    Then, once you''ve cleared your territory, you disband all of them, no matter the veterancy, and take the spearmen for use later.


    Because meatshields are always useful, but glass cannons with shit AoE and long cast times aren''t.


    Guns and artillery come into prominence in the late-early game. Mages might not need ammunition, but even the earliest version of field cannons fire twice as fast and had a fifty percent larger AoE. When they received veterancy, which was inevitable due to sheer number of kills, they comparatively became thrice as fast and their accuracy increased significantly.


    Accurate enough to snipe some Champion units who tried to take the mantle of King of the Battlefield from them.


    Sorry, Champion units, but you''re still, technically infantry.


    The Queen of the Battlefield.


    And, we all know how that relationship turns out.


    Anyway, musket-armed units were garbage, but rifling and cartridges were Ancient technology, and men armed with breach loaders and bolt actions could be figured out quickly, as long as the prerequisites were met. Riflemen and spearmen were the bread-and-butter of the human faction up to the end of the mid-game, and some crazy bastards on forums spent their entire game gathering the right artifacts, upgrades, and Champions so that they could meme on the final boss and its army with pike and shot.


    Even crazier bastards beat the highest difficulty without researching cartridges or rifling, too.


    Muskets and spears only.


    I had no intentions of holding back given the circumstances.


    Mages were going to come back as Sorcerer divisions in the late game, which were strategic weapons that destroyed whole grid coordinates. Same cast time as mages, same no need for ammunition, but far, far more damage and a much larger AoE. However, even in the best conditions, with luck on my side with the right events and the right Research Artifacts found, that was half a decade away. Not only that, but their upkeep cost was the highest in the game.


    They''re game-enders once they reached critical mass, but until then it was steel and gunpowder.


    And, I had no intention whatsoever of wasting time with muskets.


    Hell, as stupid as I was, I wanted to go a bit higher in the tech tree than the game permitted.


    I might not be a gun-nut, but I had time, money, and motivation, so I was going to figure out how blowback systems worked and use them to my advantage.


    After all, the only thing better than a lot of guns¡­ was a lot of guns that fired more bullets.


    EagleScreech.mp3.


    AmericanFlag.jpeg.


    ?


    The biggest difference between just fucking around and doing science is writing it down.


    Now, while I''m most certainly unqualified to be called a scholar, let alone a scientist, I was still capable of working, learning about what I did wrong, and fixing mistakes until I came up with something half-decent.


    More importantly, I had the money to get other people to help me.


    However, I hit a big snag in my plans.


    That being the fact that guns were way farther back than I expected.


    They weren''t at muskets yet.


    They were at matchlock.


    "What''re you quibbling about, boy? That''s the finest gun I''ve ever made!" Between classes and delving into the unknown, I took advantage of the fact that the Academy was the most advanced country in the continent. Tradesmen of every craft could be found, because people in these parts had money to spare. "No matter what game you''re hunting, this''ll get the job done!"


    "My apologies, Master Erol, I''d heard so many stories about them, but I''m a bit disappointed." It was very pretty. Deep, dark wood with a light varnish. Carefully engraved reinforcing plates. Even the outside of the barrel was meticulously engraved with intricate patterns. It was a high-end sportscar of matchlock rifles, but¡­ it was still a matchlock rifle. "This''ll be a terrible weapon for soldiers."


    "What!? Of course, it''ll be! A bit of moisture, the wrong amount of powder, and even a bad wadding will muck everything up, even with the fancy grooves you wanted all over the insides and the fancy bullets you''d asked for!" Yeah, I''d asked for rifling to be applied to the barrel, as well as Minie bullet configuration. I''d read enough Civil War history to know how effective both things were. "A soldier will be able to fire ten times at most, before the barrel clogged up with soot, too! The whole battlefield will be covered in smoke, and that''ll be a damn waste of time! Stick to magics, if you wanna kill people from afar!"


    Oh, right.


    Smokeless powder.


    That was a thing I needed to think up to.


    So, this was a high-end sportscar that I planned to power with crude oil, and whose engine I had to ignite with a torch.


    I''m such a fucking moron.


    "I''ll admit, though, this one shoots farther and can hit smaller things. I can see why you thought it''d be a good weapon. Enough of them in hundreds of soldiers'' hands, and you may as well have hundreds of mages." Erol crossed his burly arms. The dark-skinned blacksmith pondered the weapon he designed with a frown. Like every Dwarf in fiction, he was a gruff, bearded, and short person with great skill that didn''t bother mincing words. He had the skill and reputation to say whatever he wanted, even to me. "¡­well, are you just going to stay silent, or are you going to tell me what you want to make this even better, huh!?"


    A true craftsman, after seeing the improvements to his work, and my dissatisfaction with the results, he demanded to be involved in making his creation even better. Hell, the guy had some sort of horizontal drill thing in his shop that hadn''t been there before. I didn''t know what it was, but the metal shavings on the floor beneath it and the dozen other barrels resting and waiting told me that Erol had made it for my order. Then, he proceeded to use it to his advantage.


    At least, I didn''t have to worry about metallurgy and some of the manufacturing.


    "I need to talk to an alchemist first." My knowledge of chemistry was enough to pass general education, then I put it in the back of my mind to forget forever. Atoms? Orbiting proton and neutrons? The periodic table. I could barely recall a damn thing. I couldn''t even recall what TNT stood for, but¡­ niter? Nitre? I knew that chemistry advances led to primers and¡­ and¡­ whatever smokeless powder really was, but beyond that I was hitting a brick wall. "For now, how about you switch the flaming match with flint? Make it strike steel, then the sparks will go inside where the powder is."


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "That''s¡­ that''ll work damn fine, boy! Ha-hah!" Erol was quick to grin and give me a large smack on the back. He seized the gun I''d ordered and looked at the powder well and matchlock system with dissatisfaction. "Come back in a few days! I know what you''re getting at. Oh, and I know a few alchemists myself! I''ll introduce ya!"


    I nodded, even though a headache was starting to form in the back of my head, before I came to a realization.


    Both rifling and smokeless powder were in-game and unlocked after researching Ancient technology more.


    That meant that, somewhere, there were examples that I could get my hands on and speed up things up significantly!


    Now, all I had to do was find it before someone else did, so I''d get rifles before everyone else!


    Fuck.


    Somehow, the situation was even worse now.


    ?


    Interlude: Rita


    ?


    We fought.


    We studied.


    We grew stronger.


    Every passing day we grew stronger.


    I saw it amidst the soldiers. Those sent to accompany us were well-armed and trained, but they were not veterans like those I saw in battle. That changed as we delved deep into the darkness. Their armor was less shiny, their boots worn, and their gazes sharpened. They trained without complaint, indulged themselves with greater care, and fought against the numberless hordes with steel in their hearts and with tireless arms.


    They were supposed to be mere guards, but now the Academy''s own soldiers looked at them with concern.


    And, the Academy feared Ilych and without shame.


    "Ogre."


    "I see it."


    Ilych all but vanished from my side. A titan clad completely in armor that wielded a sword as tall as I. She sped towards a creature as large as a house with skin that my arrows could not pierce and assaulted it without fear. The club it wielded and swung with roars could not reach her, thudding and crashing into the ground while creating crater after crater. It''s strikes could not find her, while her own blade flashed forward with her swing into the creature.


    Its club-holding arm vanished and fell far behind it with her first strike.


    The next strike cut its other arm, with a clenched fist the size of a horse''s head, and that limb vanished as well.


    When it tried to bite at her, with a maw dripping with slobber and many yellowed fangs, it found no purchase on anything¡­ and it roared as it toppled forward without its legs.


    Its guts unfurled at the soles of its feet, while the legs fell backward and the torso collapsed forward.


    The blood of the beast surged towards Ilych and her blade drank deeply from it.


    Meanwhile, I paused from my hunt, from my launching of arrow after arrow at the goblins that accompanied the larger beast.


    The scent of a cool winter night had reached my nose, and I addressed the self-declared rival of our lord as she approached.


    "Lady Celia, how may we help you?" Like many others attending the Academy, she had a retinue with her. A dozen armed men in full plate were armed with halberds and tall kite shields. They were supported by three mages. Two for attack, one for healing, and each clad in robes and with staffs. Each one was accompanied by an undead familiar or two. Dogs composed wholly of bone and magic, or birds covered in the flame of death. Neither Ilych or I had such a retinue. "Do you need assistance with your quarry?''


    We had no need of them.


    Our hunting grounds were littered with dead prey. My arrows were almost worn from constant reuse. Ilych needed to replace both her tabard and coat once more. While her armor was untarnished, the claws of lesser creatures found purchase in the cloth time and time again. That left her a juggernaut clad in armor covered by bloodstained and beast-ravaged rags. Some would say unseemly in appearance, but in truth¡­ she seemed more bestial and ferocious as such. She was violence incarnate with her finer features obscured by her plain, visored helm.


    "I¡­ I arrived here after hearing of my rival sending you both forth. I believed that you both required assistance and were risking your lives unnecessarily. I am, obviously, mistaken." We were here to prove our mettle midway through the first year of our education. Strength of body and keenness of mind were both tested by battle against the creatures of the forest. Our objective was to kill ten Goblins or a single Ogre. We killed far more than required. "You both are risking enmity with all others for doing this. They are being forced to venture deeper and risk more, as to pass the examination."


    Ilych spoke in my stead.


    "Only Ogres and Goblins live in these lands. Perhaps some wolves and giants spiders, too. Nothing a Champion should ever lose to." I concurred with her words with a nod. She approached the group. Her footfalls crushed the skulls and bodies of the dead like twigs and leaves. Soon, she cast a shadow over Celia and her retinue. The guards trembled in Ilych''s presence. As they should. I''ve seen her slay hundreds with their ability. Tens of their measure died with singular swings of her sword. "None that are worthy."


    Despite my few months of existence, I knew those words were poorly chosen.


    Celia was quite for a while, but her response was as I expected.


    "All of you, return to your quarters for the day."


    "Lady Celia¡ª


    "I will prove myself a Champion. Here and now." Celia proved her worth, or at least her pride, as she dismissed her servants and called her blade forth from its scabbard. It floated by her side, a sign of prodigious talent and skill. One of her knights offered her his shield, and she took it with a nod. A shield in her left hand, a sword ready to strike over her right shoulder, and her right hand came alive with a baleful light. With a gesture, the bodies of the Goblins we slew twitched and suddenly they stood, taking their old weapons up, and joining her side. She spoke once again, eyeing us both, before speaking. "This is the only field where I can hope to defeat him, so I will not be shamed here."


    Though I hadn''t thought much of the young lady since her declaration, my opinion of her arose at those words.


    Ilych nodded and I assumed she felt the same.


    Celia stood taller in her armor for but a moment, before taking a moment to will a batwinged-helm hanging from her hip to its place upon her head.


    A knight in silver armor, with a sanguine cloak, and surrounded by the corpses of fallen foes¡­ she looked straight out of legend.


    Singular, peerless warriors that created whole armies as they fought for the Ancients.


    For a moment, I wondered if she could hope to challenge my lord.


    Then, I shook my head.


    Rulers were more than warriors, more than simple engines of destruction, and more than creators of armies.


    They possessed vision, drive, and a dream that others were hopelessly drawn to.


    Celia, for all her posturing, was just another who desperately struggled to rival my lord.

 V2: Chapter 5:

    V2: Chapter 5:


    ¡­


    Another day.


    Another shitty set of rolls.


    I sighed, as I looked over the artifacts that we gained from our most recent delve.


    None of which were for me.


    "That one will go over to Riegert." Ilych raised one up. It was a silly-looking, large pauldron that obviously took after a certain, grimdark series. On the overworld map, it was as good as a hat to identify your Champion. It gave about a twenty percent increase in damage resistance, but reduced range by 40%. Worthless for ranged heroes, but perfect for melee fighters who didn''t have range to begin with. If you put the whole suit on, your Champion look like a lawsuit waiting to happen, but they''ll kick a lotta ass with 90% increase in damage resistance and basically no downsides because range didn''t matter to melee combatants. "The next one is for you."


    Ilych nodded and put on the amulet without even questioning it.


    That one was a cooldown decrease item. Some would say that it''s best used by caster-type Champions, because it provided a 50% cooldown reduction, but we didn''t have one of those yet. Sure, a twenty second decrease was bigger than a 2 second decrease, but if the former didn''t exist the latter was infinitely more effective.


    That''s just how math works.


    I think.


    Besides, it''s funny to see regular units flying up into the air every two seconds instead of four. It''s like having a spectacle fighter on the field as your Champion.


    Ilych put up the final piece that we found and I sighed again.


    "That one''s for Rita." It was a set of bracers that had moon sigils on it, which only worked for Elven Archer Champions. Another reference to another game, but this time for a company that were the ones getting sued. I wondered if they were doing better since I died. Better as in making good games again, and not better as in cashing in on shitty mobile games for grandmothers. Probably not. "That one should give her arrows better effectiveness against monstrous creatures."


    The bracers and the greaves of the set also covered the most skin.


    The torso portion was basically silver bikini armor accompanied by a half-cape that barely reached the small of the back.


    I''ll give you one guess why that cape only reached halfway down.


    Forum wars about Rita being better in the bikini armor or her usual leotard and fishnet mix were a weekly occurrence.


    I''m sure the devs encouraged it.


    I switched sides depending on my mood/what fanart came out that week.


    But I''m digressing.


    "We still haven''t found what we need." I grumbled aloud and Ilych nodded. She stole a glance at the latest iteration of the rifle I''d been doing my best to develop. After a brief talk with alchemists, we were on the road to figuring out the percussion cap system, but chemistry in this world was less developed than I thought. They were testing out existing compounds, so that the cap getting hit will send sparks 100% of the time into a tube connected into the powder well. The current methods were only 25% effective, though a soldier could just keep re-cocking the hammer until it worked, technically. "The ancient weapons were guns, before they ran out and resorted to common artifacts. Still, there should be traces left behind. Even a single sample will change everything."


    I let myself collapse against my chair.


    I did my best to drive away the thought that my knowledge was useless, therefore making me useless in the process, and recalibrated.


    The event that unlocked the rifle and ammunition upgrades to the gunpower infantry had certain parameters. People extensively researched what those were, because people wanted to get guns as quickly as possible for both the meme and meta reasons. Needless to say, even with the forums banning any deep-dive information posted, the meta and meme communities working together cracked the code within three days.


    The power of degeneracy can never be underestimated.


    The earliest of the three speedrun methods was to get it through sheer luck by triggering a 1% event chance while exploring any Ancient Ruin. That was my current strategy. The official name of the event was probably ''Ancient Firepower'' or something along those lines. I liked to recall it as ''Peace was never an option'' event, because why bother with diplomacy research when you can pump everything into gunpowder research and just kill everyone else?


    Since that wasn''t happening, or at least didn''t seem like it was happening, I refocused on the other early unlock methods.


    The second was getting a third Citadel, since having three allowed them to power their Ancient Foundries up. The event boosted all the Citadel''s outputs, and after a spot of research, unlocked most of the Ancient''s secrets and archives. That was meant to explain the rapid rise in technology in the midgame. Everyone found out the truth, everyone did their best to figure shit out, so that everyone could survive.


    That wasn''t happening because it''d be suicide to get a third Citadel now. The initial output bonuses weren''t enough to overcome the remaining factions dogpiling you. Maybe if the bonuses were flat additions¡­ no that''d make the endgame impossible.


    Anyway, the third and final way to access rifles and cartridges was¡­ unpleasant.


    Trade.


    With everyone running around, getting everything that they can out of ancient ruins, the 1% chance of the technology dropping became practically guaranteed. By contacting your opponents with your Champion, by having theirs and yours adjacent to one another, whilst non-hostile, you could initiate a trade deal through diplomacy. Later in the game, with communication networks properly set up, the Champion-to-Champion requirement was no longer necessary, and the Diplomacy Tab was always available for use.


    So, if I ask around, contact my rivals, and hash out a trade deal¡ªguh.


    Memories of terrible trade deal after trade deal flashed before my eyes.


    All my money for a single Rare Artifact?


    Five whole territories of a contested region for ten turns peace, even though I just kicked your ass?


    Three of my 5k research point projects for your 1k research project?


    Just thinking about trade made me want to reconsider if breathing was worth it.


    I''d rather wait for the midgame and the painful event chain that unlocked it to pop, rather than trade.


    "Well, nothing to do besides keep fighting the good fight, I suppose." Trade in-game reflect trade in my current reality. If you asked for something, if you wanted something, people weren''t going to hesitate to make you bleed out the nose for it. Especially if you were the dominant power, such as my current case. People were already sniffing around the establishments I went to and asking questions. Even with how slow information travelled in this world, it still travelled quickly, and so people were looking at guns with greater interest than I liked. Khanrow sent me a letter saying that gunsmiths outside of the Academy region were getting hired left and right, and he only just managed to get a dozen or so. "Trading for what we need will cost us too damn much. All we can do is keep fighting and looking."


    Ilych, once again, deployed a tactical nod and provided no further input.


    I almost missed her talking about the winds all the time, because her being cool and aloof and out of armor was distracting.


    Her being crazy gave me another chance to rethink things before I make a mistake.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Still, even without that particular safety net, I was still doing fine.


    The battle against puberty was a harsh one, but I was managing so far.


    Oh, and revolutionizing guns to gain an advantage without giving everyone else guns was hard too, I guess.


    ?


    Interlude: Celia.


    ?


    "Catherine, explain."


    "The King of Wisdom has created a weapon that he intends to use to revolutionize warfare."


    I looked over the weapon my agent had purchased, which my guardian and advisor looked over as well. Catherine was centuries old. A phantom that could barely be seen, or wander far from the object which anchored her soul to reality. She usually spent her days in the library, perusing tomes which were turned by her attendants, and answering questions to the best of her ability.


    "I need more than that. How exactly does that work?"


    "My honored mistress, may I suggest that you inspect and consider the weapon first, yourself? It will be good training, especially with the opponents we have."


    First and foremost a teacher, the Phantom bid me to make my own assessment first, and so I did.


    I frowned at the weapon and looked upon it with crossed arms and a furrowed brow.


    There were improvements to it that made it very different from the hunter''s tool that I was familiar with. The most glaring change was the new form of ignition. A ''flintlock'' mechanism that channeled sparks into the tube¡­ and the second was the ''cartridge.'' A paper tube that contained the correct amount of powder and bullet to invalidate several concerns that usually permeated the usage of guns. "The new mechanism appears to be an unrefined design, which means that the Forgers intend to improve on it soon with something far better."


    The Forgers of Mountains were a dedicated and prideful people. Anything that they considered imperfect was soon to be replaced. Compared to the rest of the weapon''s meticulous nature, the ignition system of the firearm crafted by the famed Erol was robust, but unrefined. Something he obviously intended to scrap and reuse for his true inventions later.


    But I had no clue as to what that design was.


    Catherine spoke shortly after I did, as to help me in my observations.


    "My lady, please consider the new munition''s packaging. The container is of great import." I turned to look at the small paper parcel stamped with Erol''s crest. Two hammers across a shield. Simple and succinct. Each parcel contained ten of the paper cartridges. "Servant, how many of these parcels were available at the storefront?"


    "Two boxes full with at least a hundred each. A third halfway empty. Three more waiting to be re-used."


    I nodded at that.


    "The cartridge allows for the mass-production of munitions. Not only that, but the container parcel itself is covered in wax, while a small cloth covers the cartridges inside. It will allow whole armies to be armed with the weapon to never be without ammunition, as long as their supply lines hold." Catherine nodded at my assessment, while I continued to stare and discern what I could from the information at my disposal. She would stay silent, so that I could practice my ability to infer and discern. I was tempted to look at the weapon, but I knew that I was still missing something. I noticed it after a few moments. "Ah, the cartridges themselves are roughshod, while the container is not. A component is missing in the cartridges that Erol expects to introduce soon."


    Catherine nodded and spoke.


    "Correct. Your focus on the weapon itself had made you focus on what the King of Wisdom might do next, but you almost missed the forest for a single grove." Catherine passed by my side. The air barely lowering in temperature in her presence. I saw the vague outline of a robed figure in the edges of my vision. Once upon a time, Phantoms were able to manifest more substantially and had far greater powers at their disposal. They used to even be able to wield weapons. "This is the beginning of a complete change in warfare as we know it. An age where hundreds or thousands of guns point at one another from vast distances and armies are culled within minutes. Much like a crossbow, a peasant can be taught to use this within weeks, and Erol has already espoused the accuracy and range of his new weapon quite thoroughly."


    I nodded at Catherine''s words.


    Erol had seized opportunity quickly in order to sell his wares. The exhibition had been a simple shooting range, comparing a crossbow, his old weapons, and the new. His fame attracted attention quickly, as did the promise of a new weapon. Everyone knew that the old firearms could only be trusted within a hundred paces. The new gun and the new munition combined allowed him to double the range of the rifle, and he invited experienced hunters from the crowd to test it, and all were fervent admirers of the weapon after their first shot¡­ especially with the lack of need for powder horn.


    Powder horns which would''ve needed barrels of gunpowder to be transported in wagon trains. A deadly thing to transport if a mage could be placed amongst raiding teams. Meanwhile, the new parcels were inconspicuous, soldiers could carry dozens of them on their person if needed, and perhaps even delivered by scouts flying swiftly through the air. A winged horse could carry another grown male with its rider and equipment.


    I had to take a deep breath and lean on the desk over the weapon¡­ no¡­ the cartridges.


    More than anything, the cartridges made the King of Wisdom''s intentions clear.


    "He intends to fight all across the continent and take every single Citadel." Compact, streamlined, and perfect for logistics. I''d heard tales of how his army doubled in size when they marched towards their foe. He made friends of every tempted tribe in his path, felled every foe, and ensured the safety of his men. The constant reinforcements he received, meant to replace wounded during the journey, instead made his army swell and swell in size. I''d thought it was conjecture and rumors, but the simple package I now looked upon stated that was not the case. While everyone else looked to establish themselves, build up their lands, and make armies¡­ the one I declared my rival was laying the foundation of complete conquest over the whole continent. It was dizzying. "What can we do?"


    Catherine, thankfully, had an answer¡­ even if it was blunt.


    "The same. As everyone else will, I imagine. All we can hope to do now is catch his stride and chase after him. In all my centuries, I never imagined learning once again, but here I am." Catherine''s little jibe at herself made me smile. I felt a ghostly hand drift over my shoulder. It was a comforting sensation that I''d known since I was a child. "Do not fret, my dear. You are young. You are learning. You are wise, talented, and great in a multitude of ways. Do not be disheartened. Our struggle will take centuries, and you will only grow stronger."


    Though I derived some comfort over my teacher''s words, a hint of fear stayed within my chest.


    I did have the advantage of time on my hands¡­ but that was only if Jack would allow me to have it.


    And, as the weapon before me showcased, along with the trail of destruction and innumerable treasures found on Academy grounds, I knew that he would not.


    Unlike my ancestors, I did not have time on my side.


    I needed to be better now, simply so that my people would not be swept aside.

 V2: Chapter 6:

    V2: Chapter 6:


    ¡­


    If I were a protagonist, things would somehow work for me in the end.


    But I''m not a protagonist.


    "Fuuuuucccckkkk." I let loose a curse, while looking over the reports. Progress in improving guns was deadlocked. No. Worse. We were being forced to practically restart. From how metal was being forged and formed, to how the alchemists needed to invent and relearn new ways to produce the required chemicals, just about everything needed to be redone. We were kicked back from manufacturing to R&D in a damn instant. Sometimes the rifling method made the barrel too weak and caused cracks, sometimes the new bullets didn''t expand correctly and bounced along the barrel and wrecked it, and sometimes the packaging didn''t hold up for the cartridges and ruined whole satchels of rounds. Sometimes the bullets wouldn''t fly as far or as fast. "This is bullshit."


    Now, I understood that I was making progress.


    I''ve only been at the Academy for 1 turn, 4 months, and tech tree progress wasn''t all or nothing in this world. Guns have rapidly changed from matchlock and smoothbore to percussion cap and rifling, even if it was shit at the moment. That''s centuries of progress happening a few months. It was an immense amount of progress when historical context is taken into account.


    But, still, I''m a gamer.


    Numbers going down, events fucking me over, and things outside my control¡­ all of it infuriated me more than I cared to admit. Doing everything right and still failing is a part of life, as a certain, bald starship captain said, but that didn''t mean I had to abide by it or accept it! Devs, if you''re somehow listening, fix the balancing of this game! It''s hard enough without constant fuckups messing with my research progress, dammit!


    I took a steadying breath and glanced around my office for a second, verifying that I was alone, before letting my head slump down and collide with the thick stack of reports on my table.


    "At this rate, we''re really going to be on the defensive for the next two years." Eight turns wasn''t much in the grand scheme of things¡­ in the late game. The early game was the part where you built power. The mid-game was where you proved that you had the strength to win. The late-game was where you clinched your victory. Finally, the end-game should be a victory lap or for pure style points. That was how things went if you properly followed the meta, otherwise the player is in for terrible, mind-numbing grind where they still might lose in the end. "It''ll be cutting things close, but it should work."


    It was all a matter of logistics and army experience.


    Having gone through the output of the Citadels, taken in the populations of both the regions under my control, I could say that the early-game economy in-game was similar to what we had now. The gold coming in, the harvests we were getting, the birth rate, death rate, and manufacturing ability all resembled the simplified numbers and statistics that would otherwise just be in the upper right corner of the screen. From my estimates, and records of the bills for maintaining our current armies, if we went full-bore on army-building we could have two more full stacks in the next two years without endangering our reserves, but cutting down our input of gold by half.


    Two stacks of early-game infantry isn''t anything to sneeze at. Early game troops, with armor upgrades, weapon upgrades, and Champion support were chunky and dealt decent damage. With micromanagement, you could easily beat the AI''s midgame armies, especially when you reinforced one army with another right beside it. The old strategy of having more men than the other side worked spectacularly¡­ but the issue came with veterancy and opportunity cost.


    If I built these armies now, the main DPS source will be mages, and those mages will need to be replaced. Sure, riflemen can be trained more quickly once I had the guns and ammo figured out, but everything that a mage killed, every battle that a mage fought, was one that a rifleman didn''t. It was institutional knowledge being lost, experience that could''ve gone to a unit that was serviceable in the late-game, whereas mages were barely functional.


    EXP was going to be wasted, therefore money was going to be wasted, and it made my blood boil.


    "¡­Well, if it''s gotta be that way, then I need to change gears." The current plan Khanrow had was exactly as I said before. Build two full armies and the logistical chain each one required to project force. Since the composition was going to be halfway filled with useless people who''ll just be throwing out sub-par projectiles, instead of people who''ll be throwing out excellent projectiles at six rounds a minute, I needed to put a stop to the plan. "Looks like we''re building tall instead of going wide."


    The supported both strategies, so naturally the forums were filled with fanatics about one side or the other. The tall strategy was the same as any other 4X game. High quality regions and Citadels, with a limited army to minimize maintenance cost, and investment of most funds into more improvements. The wide strategy was riskier than other games, since the AI were more than willing to band together and kill a budding hegemon, even in the early game. Still, tactics and methods were made to rapidly take over three or four Citadels and their regions in the early game, and pumping out armies whilst holding on against the onslaught the remaining factions brought to bear.


    Though I initially planned to go wide, if I managed to get the weapons early, that wasn''t happening now.


    I just had to accept the truth that I wasn''t going to miraculously find the Ancient Research that I wanted to find and change course before I fucked up.


    "We need our own University first, then we need to turn the surrounding towns into cities. Maybe, the people we helped out will be willing to move in?" Population was rising quickly, but it wasn''t rising quickly enough. There was no way in hell that we were going to reach the million mark in the next ten years, even if every woman in both regions were pregnant nonstop. Not only that, but there were less and less people coming in from the unconquered lands, because in reality, millions of people couldn''t exist in a hellhole where warlords killed each other for sport and one bad crop season wiped out whole towns. Even with access to better care, better food, and safer places, our population wasn''t going to skyrocket that quickly. "Quality definitely has to come first."


    I needed to force certain events to happen.


    Military Academy, University, and Sorcerer''s School were the main buildings that had a chance of triggering them. Units could start as Veterans, could have a 5% modifier to their passive and active skills, or shoot a bit faster with the right event. The only requirement was that the building existed and the event would trigger. But each buildings'' maintenance cost increased with the number of troops you had. It was a choice between lots of rabble that would be lucky to survive battles and gain EXP, or undermanned armies of great troops that could be brought together into big armies when needed.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    If you went wide, you wanted hordes that you could replace, so you don''t need to build any of the buildings.


    However, as I already said, population wasn''t infinite in this world and by all statistics we had available¡­ we weren''t getting a millions of people to pull from in fifty years, let alone twenty.


    I took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of my nose.


    I didn''t have a migraine, thankfully, but I was getting stressed.


    "One letter to try and move our economy and strategies to the right place, then I''ll get some rest." I leaned back, while fetching my quill and paper from the drawer of my desk. I longed for the days of email, hell, even a typewriter would be amazing, but I practiced enough to be legible. I could have someone scribe it for me and send it out, but Khanrow was technically dead. Therefore, I had to get messages to him by giving them to Riegert through Khanrow''s spy network via dead-drops. "Here''s hoping we can stall out the other faction''s aggression¡­ or that they''re not stupid."


    The biggest problem about playing tall in-game was that you could be perceived as weak with your half-full armies running around. The forums, despite all the efforts of the devs, were filled with mocking posts about AI being easily baited by one-unit armies and being unable to run away when that army joined up with a dozen others to crush them. It was the limitation of an electronic mind, so I hoped that the same wouldn''t be the case here.


    Because, if it was, I''m not sure that I can stop myself from chipping away at my enemies and going wide anyway.


    Every other faction, in my eyes, wasn''t doing nearly as well as they should and wasting time.


    If they kept fucking around with their suboptimal bullshit, they''ll get rolled over and won''t even serve as ablative.


    Must.


    Resist.


    Urge.


    To.


    Conquer.


    Everything.


    For.


    Biggest.


    Numbers.


    Oh, and surviving, I guess.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow.


    ?


    "So, has the newest letter told you why he asked for everything short of how many men are bearded in our lands?"


    I nodded as I gingerly placed the letter down.


    "He has and it has been enlightening." I''d questioned the necessity of all the trivial information Jack had requested. At first, I believed that he wanted to ensure that the men we had were trustworthy, then I believed he wished to make decisions that were as well-informed as possible. However, with the newest letter sent our way, I realized the truth. "He has sent the beginnings of his plan for his kingdom for the next ten years."


    Riegert nearly spit out his beer.


    "I¡­ huh¡­ I don''t know why I''m surprised." The titan scratched the back of his head and then rubbed his red beard. Over the last few years, a few gray hears sprouted upon it and his mane. In another decade, his strength will begin to fade, as mine had. "I should''ve expected that he''d be up to something when Ilych told me the classes barely matter to him."


    "He outstrips all his peers and even his upperclassmen in theoretical studies, but this is beyond what the Academy could offer." I shook my head. The establishment of a centers for learning solely for mages, military officers, and scholars. Though I''d known the ancients had such things, I''d never considered them an option with all the threats around us. However, Jack rightly pointed out that we were strong enough to defend ourselves, but not strong enough to fight against our foes. That gave us the defensive advantage and so we must make use of it by investing into our people and elevating them as much as we were able. "He intends to revitalize the educational methods of the Ancients, instead of using our current treasury on armies. We will be maintaining and training who we already have, but besides that¡­"


    "We use the defender''s advantage and everything the Citadel gave us to hold the line, until the new blood we need comes through stronger than what we could hope to make now." Riegert, ever the scholar of ancient culture and life, brightened at the thought. "Tell me how I can help, and I''ll get it done. This is the perfect way to try and bring back the glory that we''ve lost as a people."


    "You''re too important as of now to become a headmaster of your own Academy. I need referrals, not your direct aid, old friend." Riegert huffed at my words, while I gave him a shake of my head. I turned my gaze back to the plan and the information that Jack had requested. All these innocuous little details created a infallible argument for the plan Jack created. I couldn''t deny that guarding what we had and becoming stronger was ideal with our current position, especially with so many watching us with care. However, there was another way to us this knowledge. "How difficult do you believe it would be to gain this information from other lands?"


    Riegert paused at my words, once again scratching his beard, and spoke after taking a sip of his beer.


    "Depends on the people. Some spread news with their town criers. Obituaries are common enough in small towns, and more than a few families declare the birth of their children. Things like how much gold is being spent and how much food is being gathered¡­ that''ll be more difficult."


    "So, they guard their gold and food, but not their people from which both stem. Hm. We''re doing the same." Information is key to all things. An errant lie can devastate a whole noble house. The truth can make a kingdom topple. More than a few of my former colleagues fell from grace from dizzying heights thanks to singular breakages in trust. Yet, now, I held at my disposal the means to interpret and plan around the populations of whole regions. "We need to begin consolidating that information as well. Let no one know how much people we truly have. It is the best way to obfuscate the truth."


    "Aye, I see that now too. With the people taken into account, then the gold and food can be surmised." Riegert nodded and drew the correct conclusion as always. Numbers were always important to us both in battle. The amount of bodies needed and wealth to pay each one in a war camp was dizzying. Knowing how many people our foes had was always essential to our plans, so why should we not do the same and more now against our foes, while keeping our own secret? "I''ll go through the people I can trust and find some scholars who''ll be willing to work as teachers. "


    "Do that, and I''ll begin gathering what we need."


    Riegert nodded, finished his mug, and left my sanctum.


    Once more I spied the gray hairs on his beard, then I looked upon my own hands.


    Every passing year, it looked thinner, more liver-spotted, and wrinkled than the last.


    I am past my prime, and I should retire¡­ but not yet.


    Not yet.


    There is still more that I can do even with my now feeble form.

 V2: Chapter 7:

    V2: Chapter 7:


    ¡­


    Alright, I give up.


    I''m not finding the Ancient Research I need to propel guns into the modern age, and there''s plenty of other opportunities that I can make use of. So, for now, guns will just advance on their own, I''ll bite the bullet and hire mages for ranged DPS, and hope that they can be retrofitted into Sorcerers. Even if that mechanic didn''t exist in the game, training someone versed in magic to be better at magic should be possible in this reality.


    Five turns, a year and four months, with barely any progress is more than enough time wasted.


    Time to investigate other avenues of gaining power to survive to coming shitstorm.


    The hacking of spiders, the hewing of goblins, and the destruction of trolls raged around me, while we delved deeper into the ancient ruins below the Academy. Ilych and Rita were the vanguard and rearguard respectively, while my now-veteran guards supported either. The guards were sporting all sorts of minor trinkets, very high-quality armor, and magic-enhanced weapons now. Veteran units, maybe even on the verge of Elite, these guys were effectively ready for the early mid-game, so this excursion would be possible for them even with Champion support.


    At a 50% casualty rate, but it''ll be a success¡­ and worth it with the prize I was after.


    With one Champion, it''ll be 25%, but hopefully with two it''ll be 0%.


    Ah, who am I kidding.


    It''ll probably be a 12.5% casualty rate.


    "This is the fifth Troll and the Goblins are becoming better equipped." I nearly jumped when Rita spoke. I wasn''t into ASMR. Not only that, but we were also venturing through dark tunnels covered in moss, dead corpses, and the scent of dead bodies. Having someone whisper into your ear in these circumstances was terrifying. "My lord, perhaps you should consider returning above ground and leaving the end of this path to myself and Ilych?"


    I was tempted to accept, but I decided against it.


    "No, that''s too dangerous. Splitting up right now is worse than staying together." It was partially true. However, I didn''t want us to stay together for safety. I wanted us to stay together because of the event that I wanted to trigger. We''ll need a lot of hands to get everything back up, or at least guard it while another person went up to get reinforcements. "Besides, I''m the leader of this expedition and I requested it be made. I will not have you risking your lives while mine is safe."


    Rita seemed mollified by my words and withdrew back to her post. The regular soldiers stood straighter at my statement, so I chalked that up to getting some brownie points with the regular soldiery.


    If we found what I was looking for, then I''d need those brownie points.


    "Halt. More are coming." Ilych called out and a moment later the footfalls of large creatures headed our way. As untrained as my ears were, I could tell there was a difference between these Trolls and the next. The clanking of heavy plates, the harder thuds of their stub-like feet, told me all that I needed to know. These were Gray Guards, heavily armored Trolls that prowled the depths of the largest ruins, and they were going to be the cause of the expected casualty rate¡­ well¡­ if not for my preparation. "My Lord, now!"


    "Flares!" I called out and my guards swiftly moved. A bit of a bonus with my work with the Alchemists led me to find that they worked on fireworks as a side job to get money from nobility and national events. The tubes I''d commissioned didn''t burn as long and didn''t linger as flares used in modern times, but they were useful against creatures like Trolls and let my soldiers use both hands in combat instead of having one hold a lantern or torch. "Look down!"


    There was an earthshaking roar from the five Trolls covered in head to toe in the panels they tore from the walls. They were dumb and brutish creatures, but they were cunning enough to make use of their surroundings, and ancient materials were tough as hell. Therefore, the Gray Guard usually needed to be confronted by a combat Champion leading Mages into the depths, otherwise retreat was the best option even if it wasted a turn.


    But, in the event-box, those mages weren''t important because they could sling fireballs.


    It was because they could blind the Gray Guard.


    I invoked the spell and it felt as strange and alien as ever in my body. Like some bubbling mass in my chest blazed and surged, filling every corner of my body in a flash, and threatening to blow it apart. I had to concentrate and channel it into the tips of my fingers, gathering it into my hands, and directing it at the Trolls. Even though I closed my eyes and looked away, I still felt the heat of the combat spell meant to stun a whole unit in combat and give Mages time to escape.


    I knew that the trick worked when the charge stopped and the sound of roars turned into agonized screams.


    The Trolls were blinded.


    "Ilych and Rita, now!" I called out as the spots in my vision cleared, but it was unnecessary. Arrows sprouted from the joints of the creature''s armor in moments, sinking deep into their toughened hide for a second, before another arrow pushed them further in and suddenly the black blood of the Trolls surged outward from their bodies without ceasing. The deep and animalistic screaming of the Trolls continued, their pain and agony apparent¡­ but temporary.


    Ilych, in quick succession, unleashed a downward, executioner''s slash towards each of the creature''s. The massive blade she wielded like a feature was practically a black blur in the light cast by flares. The speeding aberration of darkness went through armor, bone, and flesh in an instant. Five strikes, perfectly executed, crushed the skulls and brains of five massive creatures in an instant.


    At the very least, all my attempts to find the Ancient Research that I wanted had trained Rita and Ilych up.


    "My Lord, it is done." Ilych checked for a pulse by burying her blade in the heart of each creature and having it feed upon their blood. In the game, I''d see how many kills the blade had, but now I had no clue. Ilych had used it in every battle since I''d handed it to her. Usually, it got maxed out within fifty or so battles when used by a Combat Champion. Maybe, we were close to a quarter? Yet, right now, it was already cleaving through early Midgame armor. "We can move forward now."


    "Thank you. Let''s go everyone."


    With that simple phrase, the expedition moved forward into the depths with lanterns in hand, whilst leaving the bloodless corpses of our foes behind us.


    Though the troops wondered if we''d find anything today, I already knew that we''d find them.


    The Gray Guards were the creations of the Ancients, petrifying themselves to survive through centuries, until intruders approached.


    They were also smart enough to know whether or not what they were told to protect was still worth something.


    If such wasn''t the case, they''ll look for their fellows and reinforce the other group''s protective duty.


    So, without a semblance of a doubt, the fact that we had to fight them meant that we were close to what I was looking for.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    One of the most essential bonuses to any Tall strategy in the game: the Ancient Administrator.


    Increased outputs for food, industry and gold, as well as decreased maintenance cost of all buildings and troops.


    All at the low, low cost of 25% decreased happiness for your population, because they find out that the Ancients weren''t killed.


    They were slaughtered.


    And, that those that did it were coming back.


    Overall, a good item for me now, because I wasn''t expanding everywhere and happiness''s main purpose was to boost population growth rate. Since population growth was going to be slow and steady no matter what, I may as well bite the bullet on happiness and get the other bonuses early, right?


    There''s no cost, if the bonus decreased was minimal, anyway!


    ?


    Interlude: Rita.


    ?


    In the darkest depths of the Ancient Ruin, we encountered it.


    A great and terrible edifice that spoke of the cruel demise of the greatest civilization of the world.


    The Ancients, almighty and powerful, cowering and dying to a tide of horned beasts. Upon the stone doors, everlasting and meant to remind all of what once was and how it ended, was the greatest of nations at the pinnacle of life being undone by violence and depravity. Women torn apart, children feasted upon, and men broken beneath armored hooves.


    The world rejoiced whenever remains of the Ancient''s art were found. They were able to convey emotion through their art, the very shape of the stone was infused with magic, and so even the blind could behold it with ease. Each and every one found was meticulously taken from its place, as to be sequestered away to the most well-protected of places, respected even by warlords, so that it might last even longer than their creators anticipated.


    But I knew that the world would feel only desperation and terror if this one was ever seen.


    The final death throes of the greatest nation to ever be surged in our minds, threatened our hearts with agony from a thousand years hence, and our blood threatened to boil within our veins from both fury and pain.


    Anguish and futility clarified through a masterpiece.


    An artist''s final act of desperation that scorched itself into our minds.


    A call for us to run.


    Or to end our lives and suffer not the fate forced upon them.


    The spirits of the men were shaken, some struggled to stand, while a few retched onto the floor whilst tears spilled from their eyes. Though Undead, I felt the sensations of living once again, but it was a life of pain, agony, and misery bereft of virtue. Even Ilych was taken aback, almost shying away from the sight of the Ancient''s End at the hands of some sort of great enemy.


    Only one of us stood tall and unbothered.


    Only one who walked forward and cast a gaze upon us with concern.


    "Look away and catch your breath. I''ll be back soon." Simple words. Bereft of pity. He bore the weight of the ancient edifice and was unperturbed, but he did not blame us for not doing the same. The red coat with his crest fluttered as he took steps that echoed through the hall. The clatter of soles against stones drove away the wailing, gnashing of teeth, and roars of evil triumph ringing in my ears. I forced myself to stand and follow. I couldn''t allow him to go alone. He noticed and nodded at me, which gave me the will to step forward¡­ and the others strove to do so as well. "It''ll only be a moment."


    With those words, he laid his hands upon the ancient edifice of terror and pain and it split down the middle to reveal a seam upon the stone that hadn''t been there before.


    I had thought that we''d come to find the final, agonizing moments of the Ancients and our own demise.


    Instead, once more, the Ancients hid something to reach us, even if it meant giving their foes glory if they found it.


    And, inside it was a wonder long thought lost.


    The walls covered in magic scripts long lost. Thousands of scholars would give their lives for a day to study it each and every little line amongst the hundreds of thousands aglow with azure light upon the walls. Some I knew from my previous life. Scripts of preservation and control over heat meant to nurture the most fickle of plants. However, the ones I saw now were chained alongside hundreds of others I did not know, and which most likely no one else knew.


    Save for the creation of the Ancients, which lay upon a stone slab at the center of the room.


    Chest rising and falling, as though merely asleep, since the fall of its creators.


    A Golem.


    The Ancient''s servants and their emissaries to those they created. A light shone upon our king, then suddenly all the scripts upon the walls went dark, before surging one last time with power into lines of pure energy into the stone slab that the Golem lay upon. For a moment, it felt as though nothing changed, then the Golem''s eyes opened and it arose from its slumber.


    Faceless and featureless at first, before directing its face upon our king, and then reforming its outermost shell to better serve him. Ancient magic and technology turned something seemingly carved of pure marble began to turn into a young girl of his height. In but mere moments, its featureless head changed and smooth nothingness turned in short, straight hair, a delicate nose, and pure white eyes and lips.


    In a swift, singular movement, our King took off his cloak and put it on her shoulders to obscure what became beneath its shoulders.


    The Golem barely took note.


    "My duty is to assist those who find me so that they might overcome the return of my creator''s foes. Boy, you are well-dressed, well-guarded, and all here look to you, what lands to you lay claim to?"


    Our King answered without a moment''s hesitation.


    "Two Logistics Centers. We are rebuilding quickly, gathering all we can, and doing our best to regain the glory that was lost."


    "Then, I will assist you." With that single phrase, my king laid claim to a legend and gained its loyalty. He called the Citadel by the name the Ancients called it. After hearing the phrase, the Golem knelt before him covered in his colors and his crest with its head laid low. New features found its way upon its shell. Green eyes and black hair. A sterner countenance. Pale skin. It remade itself like shaping and painting clay into an advisor and not a creature of legend and myth. "My masters were felled from the darkness, their greatest assets stolen away, and their armies cast to the winds. The same shall not be this time. Not today. So, I swear upon my very being. "


    Everyone looked upon the scene with bated breath.


    We witnessed the end of the greatest nation to ever be.


    And, now, we looked upon a sword that they cast through the ages to avenge them and aid us.


    Hope made manifest.


    Some soldiers fell to their knees and wept with joy, and some cast their gazes aside worried for merely looking, but our King did not hesitate.


    He offered the Golem his hand and raised it up from its bow.


    "Together, then. Let''s save as much people as we can."


    With those words uttered in the face of a miracle made manifest, I knew that I could follow no other.

 V2: Chapter 8:

    V2: Chapter 8:


    ¡­


    "The time frame is too slim. It is better to create an ark of sorts and create a strong industrial base in a defensible position."


    "Doing that''ll just get us killed later. Handing off this many people to the enemy, along with all the land and industry, will just stem the tide for a few centuries."


    "Centuries where a solution could be composed."


    "On an island in the middle of nowhere, with a severely limited population, and barely any resources, you''d be lucky to get just those centuries."


    Help, the Not!AI that I filched from the depths is being a moody and emotional piece of shit.


    What the hell happened to a the flavor-text, huh? The Ancient Administrator is supposed to be inscrutable and just spit-out numbers and improvements. Was it because I rescued it early? Did it feel like it could do more than just try and improve the chances of the civilization that picked it up? Whatever the answer was¡­ I was having a hard time dealing with the Ayah.


    Yes, I''m lazy and just decided to name the Ancient Administrator two different phonetics for the letter A.


    Sue me, I''m trying to save myself and the world in the process.


    "We will hold and send forth expeditions to gather resources. The isle that we choose will be merely a bastion against our foes." I twitched at the mention of ''foes.'' I was doing my best to ignore that particular suggestion until the scouts I had Khanrow sent out a few weeks ago came back. For now, I was continuing to work with the information that I''d been using, until evidence came forth that invalidated it. This was totally a logical move and not pure cope. "Through these expeditions, we will gather the requisite supplies, scavenge what we require, and exploit raw resources wherever it can be found."


    "Such as raiding and taking apart coastal towns that haven''t been touched yet, I''m sure." I took a few steadying breaths, while Ayah glared at me. The Ancient Administrator had the form of a young woman now, after its form configured itself to best present itself. Yeah, that she was one aesthetic mod away from looking like a certain, blindfolded, and French Maid-esque Android. Some would say black hair, green eyes, and tanned skin is an upgrade though. Personally, I didn''t find myself hating it. I''d rather not have to deal with the implied existential crisis, nihilism, and craziness from that series, so a pallet change was fine in my books. "That''s not an option. You won''t be any better than the enemies you wish to face."


    "You dare compare me to those creatures?" Ayah glowered at me, but simmered down when I didn''t flinch at the statement. We both knew that it was true, after all. Going around stealing supplies from untouched locations, gathered by its native inhabitants, was within walking distance of the horrible things inflicted by the Ancient''s foes. "If you were not so capable and with the greatest power on the continent¡­"


    "I am, though." My words and a big smile made the glare intensify, but the Not!AI soon shook its head and took some of the papers on my desk. Since the wireless network of the Citadels weren''t online yet to provide it with the necessary readouts, Ayah had to make do with paper and ink like the rest of us. Thankfully, it was more than capable of refining our existing systems. "So, please help me as much as possible."


    Another huff left the Ancient Administrator, before it took one of my notebooks and began to process all the reports sent my way. Naturally, I''d considered just sending it to Khanrow and getting the bonuses in our city by placing it in the necessary position, but Khanrow declined on the basis of needing to establish trust. That earned the old bastard a lot of approval from Ayah, so it accepted having a temporary limitation to its abilities by having it all go through Khanrow and his administration.


    I suppose that expected every output my faction had to just suddenly increase 25% was unrealistic.


    Which sucked, but it was better than not having 25%.


    As long as I get a 25% increase in my numbers!


    "Perhaps, you can pay attention instead of staring into the distance and ruminating one whatever you wish?" Ayah spoke and I blinked as I refocused on the Golem. It was standing in front of me and waiting for my attention. "I asked you for your plan to surmount the enemy? How do you intend to overcome what my Creators could not?"


    Well, the answer to that was easy, in fact, there was an in-lore reason for it that I could easily deploy.


    "They''ve made their own defeat. The Ancients were caught off guard after millennia of peace. Meanwhile, everyone who''s alive now''s been through worse." Personally, I felt that the reasoning was pretty stupid. Pain wasn''t necessary to get stronger. Suffering didn''t mean a person came out better. Usually, people just come out damaged and barely functional. But, still, it was undeniable that the people that the inhabited the continent now were ferocious creatures. "If there''s anything my people and all the others in this continent know, it''s suffering and war. We''ll turn it on them, while bringing to bare everything that the Ancients can give us."


    For a moment, I thought that the answer wasn''t good enough as the Golem just stared straight at me, but eventually in bowed its head in acknowledgement of my plan.


    "We shall see if it goes as you say." That was probably as good as I was going to get from Ayah. The Ancients made their diplomatic envoys tough. Not just physically, but mentally too. This Golem had one hell of a backbone¡­ which was also necessary to support the back and front¡ªno, bad! Jack Jr. you should know better than that! You''re literally looking at a pile of rocks that can shape itself, dammit. Oh, god, why are you tilting your head to the side that cutely? "Is there any reason why you are not properly relieving yourself of arousal? That is unhealthy for a young man such as yourself¡ª


    I cut Ayah off before any suggestions born from the depraved minds of neckbeards from the lore about the Ancients came to light.


    "I''d rather not say, and I''m not interested." I lied through my fucking teeth, but it was for my own future safety. In this safe environment, I needed to train myself against honeytraps. I''m not dying to some assassin even if I got mindblowing nookie first. That might be some people''s fetish, but it wasn''t mine. My fetish is living a long, damn life in the lap of luxury. "Let''s get to work."


    Ayah, thankfully, nodded at my words and left without a word¡ª


    "If you are interested, simply say so. I can aid you expertly."


    "I''m not!"


    I almost introduced my face to my desk.


    Puberty 2: Electric Boogaloo was the fucking worst.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    A laugh left my lips as I placed the letter down, while Catherine looked upon me with worry.


    "Mistress¡­"


    "The archeological find of the century. The reason behind the disappearance of the Ancients. The taking of an Artifact hidden away by the Ancients behind their greatest secret." I spoke and the words felt like barbs of agony to my tongue. The moment I descended from the outer wall played in my mind, along with me declaration of rivalry to the King of Wisdom. Nothing but absolute shame coursed through my veins. "No matter what I do, no matter how I improve, he is beyond me in every way."


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    If that were it, then I would accept it with all the grace and humility that I could muster.


    But such was not the case.


    "Not only that, but his lands are a beacon of hope. A calling to all, not just his own people, but all others who desire to witness a new age. Even some of our own kin." The prosperity of Jack''s lands was beyond any doubt. Over the course of the last four months, as all celebrated his discovery, all our informants and even those we treated with reported the same thing: an overwhelming abundance in all things was springing forth from the King of Wisdom''s territories. "They say that magic flows like water in his lands, that the roads are paved with gold, and not one soul wants for anything in his lands."


    I could accept being beaten by genius and sheer talent.


    However, I could not accept all the efforts of my retainers being undone. So many lives, so many final deaths, were paid to get us to where we were now. Thousands of years in both potential and wisdom were eradicated in exchange for our Citadel. Yet those who flocked to our banner were few in number, and most were our own kin bringing along their mortal retainers, and the bones of those who perished in their servitude.


    Mine was a kingdom of ash, dust, and bone surrounding a single Citadel.


    He ruled over two provinces that were rapidly outstripping us.


    In but a few seasons, he would surely look for another to conquer, and he would be able to defend and defeat all the forces that came after him.


    No matter the alliance forged.


    "You mustn''t blame yourself, mistress. No one could''ve known."


    "No one could''ve known? When by all accounts his men say he was the only one unperturbed by the truth they all witnessed? That he looked upon that mural of despair and hardly flinched? No. We all knew that something terrible happened to the Ancients, but we refused to look for it." I stood up and paced through my room. The lavish adornments. Ancient urns, crests, and wood recovered from ancient structures. In my study was enough wealth to fund a dozen expeditions into the depths of the Academy, and such was the case with many of our peers. But we hadn''t. Meanwhile, he lived in a humble mansion with just enough rooms for a good number of guards and servants. I took a deep breath. "We need to change our plans. Completely."


    "In fifty years¡ª


    "We don''t have fifty. We may not even have five." The urge to slam my fist on my table came and went with my controlled breathing. My temple throbbed and my nerves came alight. Even undeath couldn''t free me from my endless thoughts and fears. "In maybe two and a half, we may only be prey for him to pick from. While his nation becomes a predator, we will be sheep banding together to survive."


    The reports on his lands were staggering. Besides the sudden flourishing of his lands, the increase in trade, business, and sheer traffic, there were the massive construction projects. Straight from ancient tomes, they recreated centers of learning for their military, for their mages, and for their scholars. The Academy had been incensed and tried to leverage their fiscal wealth, but the products and caravans of the King of Wisdom''s twin Citadels couldn''t be simply evaded.


    Spices, fine clothes, well-made tools, and simple, but sturdy clothes all left his lands. Those of the Elm that were spared devoted themselves to agriculture and brought forth an abundance of crops that they could sell off with ease. The King of Wisdom''s kin held no prestigious talent, nor even great numbers, but they had the endurance and the will to work, to train, and to devote themselves to a greater purpose.


    Especially with such a great leader at their disposal.


    With a word, I''m sure that Jack could make things simply happen through his people. Lesser of his kin have accomplished so much with far less, and he has yet to create a single Edict for his people to follow.


    "Catherine, call my clerk and have him hire five others. It is time we begin to do what we must."


    "Yes, Mistress."


    She left my presence, to speak to the guards in my room, while I considered what must be done.


    First, I needed to do away with the pride of my kin. So many of us refused to do manual labor, refused to fight and leverage our power on the battlefield, and held onto old beliefs. Old beliefs like our armies fought on behalf of us, that we should surrender once our forces were lost, and only unleash our own might when honor and all other codes were broken. The more of my kin that I could call upon to join me on the front line the better and stronger our people.


    Secondly, I needed to reforge my region just as Jack was. Though he forged armies, he focused on enriching his lands and his people. Instead of using the wealth created by the Citadel for his own gain, he funded his expeditions in search of Artifacts and other valuable things. The template that he had for the creation of his cities was in plain view, and I would be remiss not to make use of what I simply saw and witnessed.


    Thirdly, I needed a second Citadel of my own. The possibility of competing against him with what I had now was laughable. Contrived. Foolish. To face him head-on, even with all my kin at the front, would mean only our destruction as he''d simply amass his forces and bring us to heel with ease. We needed more bodies, more soldiers, and more weapons to make them effective, which was only possible by acquiring one of our neighbors'' Citadels as our own.


    I knew that doing so would break all possibilities of alliance and even temporary piece.


    In fact, doing so would destroy all the plans we had now.


    But we did not have the decades that we planned to have, let alone half of a single decade.


    "We must at least try to match his step, and try to run after him." I muttered to myself, while my home came to life and rustled in the dead of night. I looked towards the moon, where our people were forged by the Ancients, and our cities there that spread across the surface like spiderwebs¡­ but were no longer alive with light or magic as they once were. No one mentioned how the moon perished and the great armies upon it went silent that could once descent upon any point on the planet and vanquish the foes of our masters. But, now, I knew that they were killed¡­ and their killers were nowhere to be found. "All we can hope to do is try to prepare as he is against what is to come."


    Dread welled up within me at what might take place in the future.


    However, I took some hope from my own rival.


    Despite knowing all he did, he was still rushing forward and laying a path for all who would dare follow.


    There was a chance for survival and I would take it.

 V2: Chapter 9:

    <div>


    <div>


    ¡­


    I''m fucked.


    A set of scales from the western coast that slowly grew when submerged in water.


    A series of bronze-spearheads from the eastern mountain ranges covered in potent poison even after centuries being buried.


    Living metal shards from the south.


    Then, in the north, a piece of bleeding stone that burned whatever it spilled upon.


    A lot of nerds in the forums complained that the endgame crises couldn''t have hoped to beat the Ancients. If the Ancients had the Citadels and numbers alone, that meant that they could handle every single endgame crisis. Now, they wouldn''t come out of it unscathed, but they''d would definitely be able to handle it, pick themselves up, and celebrate. The dev''s reply was to start releasing a new crisis with new mechanics with every expansion. Three expansions, three additional endgame crisis, and when they were all released there was an option to turn them all on at once.


    Some mouth breathers and idiots kept up the stupid meme of the Ancients losing being unrealistic, but everyone with two brain cells pieced the truth together. The Ancients hadn''t found themselves on the opposite end of a gun barrel after years of peace. They got stabbed in the guts, dragged into an alley, and jumped by a whole damn gang.


    And, that gang was on its fucking way back, since they had no intention of letting the Ancients return.


    But¡­ at the very least¡­ I could do something I this world that wasn''t possible in the game.


    "Ayah, we need to start contacting others and making allies. This will serve as proof, along with your existence, and the Ancient''s mural." Discovering the endgame crises early gave the faction that did so diplomatic influence. Usually, that meant jack shit, since the AI usually followed its prime directive of winning as much as it could. Any peace was short-lived, any cease-fire would be broken, and so diplomatic influence was best traded away for some tech, a Champion, or some resources. Naturally, I was counting on the fact that I was going to be speaking with real, living people instead of sprites. "The Conquerers will be the first I contact and then the Guardians."


    The Conquerers and Guardians had the best AI in the game, because while other factions hated you for becoming stronger and having more ''points'' in the system the game used to quantify how well you''re doing, they were the opposite.


    The powerful warrior Orcs believed in strength and power being a necessity. Even in total war, they were willing to keep dialogue open and even keep trading. Best of all, they were willing to avoid sieges and settle things completely on the field. They could be reasonably counted on to be allies that actually held the line and even push against the enemy, and only ''backstab'' you when you''re the last ones standing. One final, epic battle with all the Champions and Units each faction had atop the corpses of all the other armies they broke together. No stupid, long series of sieges or traveling around the whole continent with armies, because they bet all their cities and Citadels as long as you do the same.


    Epic and basically another reason why the Orcs were the best.


    The Guardians, meanwhile, were mostly composed of aristocratic Vampires that were intended to lead legions of Undead, and they were meant to follow the lead of the Ancients. One could say that they were meant to serve rather than lead, but that''d be an overgeneralization. The Guardians were meant to live cushy lives and focus entirely on getting better at killing, at duels, and at warfare. All the amenities and wealth they had were just there to support the lifestyle of getting swole and overpowered, until they were called on to fight something that the Ancients couldn''t handle through deploying their overpowered constructs. A whole race of immortal spec-op soldiers that did nothing but train. They''ll also be armed with magical weapons and have access to spell-based artillery. That''s atop the fact that they could lead and summon legions of various Undead.


    If you''re the leading partner in the alliance, they''ll be pretty happy to tag along as long you don''t raze any cities to the ground. They had issues with you when you were the belligerent, but that''s rarely an issue since all the other factions would be willing to fight you on the basis of being richer than them alone. If you reached endgame with them, you''ll get the chance to send one of your Champions against on of theirs for a duel to the death. They''ll send their strongest, typically an army-killer with loads of levels, while you can send a specialized assassin into the fight and just win in a few minutes.


    I had Ilych and Rita could also do the deed, so there was no issue allying with the Guardians and dragging them to the top.


    Or, that was what I hoped for, before Ayah produced a scroll from my ''in'' box and wordlessly gave it to me.


    I read it, then resisted the urge to bang my head against the table.


    "The day I get the evidence I need, the very moment that I could get people to sit down and talk, and they decide to declare war on each other."


    The Guardians and Conquerers were now at war.


    Now, I had to pick one to ally with instead of one, and we''ll be equals with 2 Citadels each.


    Fuck.


    "Tell Riegert that we need to broker a peace immediately. Get him to the Conquerers." I got up and rang the bell on my table. An older gentleman in a suit came forward quickly. I had wizened butlers, because maids would be too much for me. "I''m going to speak to¡­ uh¡­ what''s her name again? The leader of the Guardians of the Moon?"


    "Lady Celia of House Adil, oh King of Wisdom."


    "It''s wisdom, not memory!"


    Ayah shook its head, but moved to write the letter while I got dressed in the Academy uniform.


    I needed to stop a war¡­ because this run is already ridiculously suboptimal for one endgame crisis let alone four!


    I''m keeping you idiots alive, no matter what!


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert.


    ?


    "So, the King of Wisdom has bid us to stay our hand, despite honor demanding we answer the call for battle against the Guardians."


    It was always tough on the nerves to speak with a Conquerer. Four times the mass, increased reaction speed, and hides that could ward off anything short of honest steel. The Ancients built them as shock troops, while the Guardians were elites that led overwhelming numbers. Two sides of the same coin, but now both were rushing headlong into conflict.


    A dangerous, terrible conflict, no matter how righteously, and honorably, they fought one another.


    "His highness is asking you to hold back, until he can convince the Guardians that they''re in the wrong and that this war will cause more suffering than either of you expect." I recited as much as I could from Jack''s letters. He had a way with words that I did not, even if he didn''t acknowledge them himself. Though I was offered food and audience with the Conquerers in their most innermost sanctum, I couldn''t imagine Jack in the same place as I. The walls were lined with the skulls of hundreds of dreadful monsters casting shadows by torchlight. I sat at the end of a long table with plenty offered, but none touched. They did not eat with me. None of the same respect that they had for Jack was offered to me. "He says that if you move against one another, then the others will move against one another as well. The suffering they will cause while the two of you are weakened and cannot bring them to heel will greatly harm the continent."


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "The Guardians have demanded of us three ritual battles. Two between armies as is our custom and one between Champions as is theirs." Crusher spoke in their leader''s stead. The massive Conquerer that sat upon a throne carved from the bones of massive monsters was silent. A gnarled and greying and wrinkled hand raised or lowered in approval or disapproval. I knew him. All peoples did. The Deliverer could cut me in two with ease, even in his last years. "By oaths upon their own ancestors, they have sworn that shall be the sole conflict that decides this war. We would be craven and foolish both to not accept. You ask of us to spit upon the promises and oaths of honorable men and women to stay the hands of rapacious meat."


    I almost bowed my head at the words, but Jack''s note at the very start and end of the letter came to the forefront of my mind.


    The threat we intended to put on the table.


    "Then, we have our own oath and promise to give: if the two of you move against one another, then so shall we against both of you." The words tasted like madness incarnate on my own lips. In all years, I never imagined declaring such words to a Conquerer, let alone the man who united all their clans in a single banner in but one lifetime. Khanrow and I achieved much, but it paled in comparison to a man who gathered all his kin to his side. He turned his people from instruments of war used for centuries into a civilization that laid claim to the Ancient''s legacy. "And, because we cannot compare to your strengths, we must be dishonorable and craven ourselves. The armies and Champions you send forth will return to all that they were meant to protect undone or under siege."


    Crusher didn''t manage to speak, because Deliverer did for the first time since I entered the room. His was a whisper through a grayed beard and wrinkled lips. Leaning forward, I glimpsed his face and saw his sunken eyes and cheeks. Much of his form was emaciated and much of his muscle was gone. The strength of even elders left him and death clung to him¡­ yet I had to grit my teeth and clench my fists as his mere whisper echoed louder than Crusher''s voice through the whole court.


    "Correct." It was like listening to a giant speak. More like stone grinding over stone and echoing down a cave than speech. The Deliverer''s eyes also shone with a fierce light, despite his emaciated body. I see. He sacrificed his body for the sake of his mind and more years to guide his people. Rumors were that when Conquerers abstained from eating and drinking they fell into a deep sleep from which they could remain alive for nearly half a year and be recovered with fresh water and honey poured into their gullet. The Deliverer used this rumored skill to live a half-life of sorts. Painful, but if half of the tales were true, then he has suffered worse. "The King of Wisdom lives up to his name."


    I did not deny that it was Jack''s idea.


    In fact, a weight lifted from my shoulders the moment it became clear that they knew I was speaking in his stead.


    From a survivor living off of battle scraps, to our guide to find the Citadel, and now a leader whose reputation I relied upon.


    I couldn''t have imagined it upon our first meeting, but here I was working with his reputation as a shield.


    "The threat has been given and heard. Now offer the prize for peace that we would have in war''s stead.


    The Deliverer rumbled and spoke from his throne with clarity of focus and will irrespective of his age. I''d heard stories of him as a boy on my grandfather''s lap. He is nearly a century and a half old when his people usually lived only eight decades. "A fitting exchange for a Citadel will be necessary."


    I swallowed thickly and spoke once more according to Jack''s letter.


    He predicted those words perfectly.


    "We offer a hundred tons of food and a ton of gold bars."


    "In exchange for a Citadel!?" Crusher roared, but the Deliverer raised his hand and swiftly lowered it. The thud of his hand against his throne echoed in the darkness alight by flickering flames held in grinning, monstrous skulls. "My words were my own. Not that of my people."


    Jack saw through that too.


    Once I felt chilled by his predictions and answers, but now I breathed more and more easily with each one.


    He truly knew.


    "We offer all this in exchange for a three seasons of a ceasefire. We ask not for peace, but for the chance to settle the matter with the Guardians."


    "I see. And, how does the King of Wisdom plan to bring the obstinate Guardians to heel?"


    I spoke bluntly.


    "Through either diplomacy or force. They will relinquish their claim on your lands, or have all their armies crushed, their villages razed, and their merchants barred." This was of the greatest importance. Offering the same deal to the Guardians, in Jack''s letter, would anger the Conquerers as they were not the belligerents. "We offer you what we do out of understanding that you were the ones threatened with war. Stay your hand, let us spare this continent the bloodshed that we fear, and we will give you all that we have promised."


    "Food we cannot ignore and riches we need, in exchange for staying back¡­ and handing the King of Wisdom the right to rule over the continent as its lord who would have all follow his ideals." The Deliverer laughed and raised a gnarled hand closer to a tree branch than a limb to stroke his grey beard. His eyes gleamed with a ferocity that shook me to my core. "In exchange, the better sum for our inaction would be five hundred tons of food and two tons of gold for every season of the three."


    I grit my teeth and clenched my hands into a fist¡­


    ¡­to stop myself from crying out in elation and victory.


    That was half as much as we were willing to give¡­ just as Jack had predicted if everything has gone well!


    And, with what I knew of them because of what we learned through Khanrow''s observers and information, I could still lower the price!


    I''d thought it impossible, but we were going to buy peace for a bargain, just as Jack had implied!


    </article>

 V2: Chapter 10:

    V2: Chapter 10:


    ¡­


    If there''s any advantage to being in the Academy, other than it being a place where you spend money and waste time like any other college, it''s the fact that you can easily make connections. I wouldn''t know from my past life, I went to rinky-dink college in the middle of nowhere so I wouldn''t get swamped by debt, but in this life I was definitely rich.


    Therefore, I could easily rub elbows with other rich people and do rich people things.


    Laugh at the poor people.


    Talk about taxes being too high and who to buy out to lower it.


    And, of course, influence geopolitics in ways that will results in tens of thousands living or dying.


    You know, rich people things.


    Anyway, I was rushing over to the future leader of the Undead when I came to a simple realization.


    I was getting a lot of attention, a crowd was gathering to follow me and my small party naturally through the halls, and the fact that my guards and Champions made us stick out that much more. Therefore, since rumor and hearsay travelled faster than light, when I reached my target''s section of the dorm¡­ instead of a small, private conversation we were obviously going to have a public debate.


    Augh.


    Having to talk to someone and convince them was hard enough without an audience.


    "Greetings, Lady Adil! I''ve come by to talk to you about a terrible rumor I''d heard!" I started off as strong as I could. Everyone with an ear to the ground knew the truth. The declaration of war and issuance of terms went out weeks ago. According to Khanrow, Riegert had barely been able to succeed in convincing the Orcs to stay still, instead of marching out. Now, our troops were heading over to the Undead''s lands while I did my best to make them not necessary. "I believe it was something about the honorable Guardians doing something unseemly, such as declaring war on the Conquerors, who have done no wrong!"


    I needed to ham it up for the public, but I couldn''t help but feel it was too easy. Not the crowd listening to my every word, but the hamming it up part. All these years pretending to be capable was giving me a real ego. I''ll need to be careful, so that I don''t get killed off mid-speech or something.


    Anyway, Celica came forward in full armor and flanked by her own guards. I had to admit, nearly two dozen Vampires in silver armor and red capes shoulder-to-shoulder made for a great scene. Definitely wallpaper material, but their uniformity and formation just helped me out. The more formal and composed they looked, the more rag-tag and desperate we did, even if we were more than equal in terms of firepower.


    "It is no rumor, King of Wisdom." Celira? It wasn''t Celery. Ceria, maybe? The more she spoke, the more I realized that I''d forgotten her first name. I knew that she was the heiress of House Adil, though! Give me a break, I''m not management material. I play video games and like to be left alone with jobs in dark spaces where no one bothers me. "Your people are not the only ones who should hold such power over the continent. Through the conflict we have proposed, the either Conquerors or the Guardians will be able to contend against you."


    "What need is there for anyone to contend against me, though? Have I not used the might of the Citadel solely to bring peace and prosperity to my lands and my people? Have I not only sought the happiness of my people, but also done my utmost to prevent the unhappiness of others?" I played up being distressed by the whole ordeal. Compared to being perpetually afraid, shedding crocodile tears was easy enough. Did it feel shameful to pretend to cry? Yeah, but a few tears was a cheap price to pay to prevent a war. "Come now, won''t you tell me your true goals? I''m sure that by working together, we can achieve anything without the use of violence. Those times are behind us now. We can all prosper and work together while letting old grudges fade."


    That was a lie. This whole game was set up so that peace wasn''t an option and that even the most stalwart of allies would backstab you in the end. Everyone involved in the conflict is so traumatized by the past that they can''t compromise anymore. Every single faction''s intention was to see the future that they planned out through, and they had no intention of letting old grudges die out without some sort of repayment, if not outright destruction of their enemies.


    But, still, I could pretend that peace was still possible, especially with the recent revelation.


    Before Celelelia could speak, I addressed the crowd by speaking at her.


    "The truth has been made evident, as well. The Ancients were felled by forces beyond them, and I have gathered evidence that they remain by sending scouts to the farthest corners of the continent." I looked over my shoulder, but Ayah was already ready. Dressed like a servant and with a covered cart, she''d followed slowly behind the rest of my retinue with guards. At my statement, she unveiled the four pieces of evidence. "The foes of the Ancients still exist. The Terrors of the Abyss''s fresh scales can still be found on the coast. The Masters of the Skies'' poisons are still fresh. The Living Metal still grows, and finally the Exiled wait to exact their revenge. The fall of the Ancients was a mystery for the ages, but now the truth is apparent: they fell to hold back four foes that still exist to this day¡­ and those foes are what have constrained us all to this one continent for as long as any can remember."


    Murmurs abounded the crowd, while Celeriac (that''s totally not right) reeled back.


    I seized the opportunity and utilized the momentum.


    "Please, Lady Adil, please consider the threats that abound beyond the known lands. Though we have reclaimed the Citadels, they still once fell, and the foes of the Ancients will surely wish to see us destroyed too." I was tempted to get on my knees and beg, but I couldn''t. As effective that move would be, I had to keep in mind that I was technically the head of a state. It sucked to not just use an ace-in-the-hole, but I couldn''t afford to tarnish my reputation, since it was the only thing keeping me from being replaced. "Stay your armies, grow strong, and discover the secrets of the Ancients alongside the rest of the continent. What harm can there be in seeking prosperity, in staying our hand instead of enacting violence, and bringing each other up instead of down?"


    In a logical world, Perfect Cell (I wish) would accept my heartfelt plea, everyone would back down, and no one would have to get hurt.


    But this wasn''t a logical world.


    "Your words hold a fragment of truth, but you lie by omission, King of Wisdom. Should nothing be done, then you alone will stand supreme over the whole continent and rule over us all. No matter how prosperous the peace that comes, you will enjoy twofold the gifts it gives for your two Citadels and regions." Yeah, that''s about the reasoning I expected. If the player''s Citadel number is greater than 1, alliance and/or ceasefire equals value zero. The line of code was translated pretty well into realpolitik in the mind of an immortal Vampire and I hated the fact that I couldn''t fault it. Hell, it was hard to keep the game in mind when someone real was adhering to its logic. "The war between the Conquerors and the Guardians will take place. One of us will rise to challenge your budding hegemon. This continent is not yours yet¡­ and it will never belong to those who brought low our venerated Ancestors."


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Now, you might be asking: why bother with the speech and the presentation of evidence, if I knew that it was going to fail?


    Why not just declare war?


    It''s simple, really.


    Casus belli.


    If we declared war without this scene, then our aims and goals could''ve been misinterpreted, either accidentally or on purpose. However, with our entrapment with the Orcs for the ceasefire, our attempt to negotiate with the Undead, and the presentation of evidence of a greater threat¡­ then, it was more difficult for people to twist the narrative in their favor.


    Instead, we twist the narrative in our favor.


    My people are valiant, noble, and considerate individuals who want peace and to build-up against the fight against the Ancient''s foes. Not only have we given people food and gold to stop fighting, but we''ve also chosen to speak to both sides to stop, before electing to use violence. Also, we have evidence regarding a threat that we should all unite against, and we have no intention of using our advantage against anyone else besides them.


    Meanwhile, Adil''s people look like warmongers. They claim that they''re trying to rival ''my'' hegemony, but they''re doing it despite having no rightful claim on Orc lands, with the knowledge that there are greater threats on the horizon, and, finally, they''ve bluntly refused to back down when perfectly good reasons were presented.


    The narrative was set, that my people were in the right and that they were in the wrong, in a neutral setting filled with representatives of every budding power on the continent.


    Or, so I hoped, because a ''casus belli'' option hadn''t popped up in the dialogue box for me to click and confirm things.


    Anyway, without further ado, I nodded and resolved to finish the act symbolically.


    I took my glove and threw it onto the floor.


    That silenced the crowd around us and, despite being dead, made Lady Adil take a sharp breath.


    "Then, Lady Adil, you leave me no choice. I declare you and your people a threat to the safety and wellbeing of not only my own people, but all who would wish to prepare against the Ancient''s foes." I worded that very carefully so that I didn''t sound like I was laying claim to all of the continent. If you''re listening, my future enemies, I''m just inviting you all to a temporary alliance against a greater enemy. I''m not saying that I own your asses, even though I''ll definitely manage your territories way better. "It is only by the laws of the Academy that I do not strike down and capture you and your retinue. But know this: I told my armies to begin marching to your lands thirty days ago."


    I intended for that to be the clincher, but I didn''t expect the result.


    Rather than an outburst, or silence, Lady Adil actually stumbled back and fell onto her ass.


    Huh?


    "You¡­ you knew that I would refuse?"


    It felt wrong to say nothing after that. The opportunity was right there for me to increase my reputation and drive home just how serious the situation was. Sure, it was going to be at her expense, but when fortune provides¡­ you need to take advantage of it.


    I nodded and spoke.


    "We will be destroying your ability to wage war against the Conquerors. The civilians will be spared, but they will be all sent to your capital and their homes and workshops razed. Half of your farmland will be burnt and any merchant seeking passage in your lands will be intercepted." The plan was to cripple them and not actually lay siege to their Citadel. I had every reason to believe that having three Citadels was still a bad idea. Not only that, but I couldn''t ally with the Undead and have their bonuses and support, if they were destroyed. This was going to be a smash and grab. "Your armies will be brought low, and all you will be able to do is rebuild desperately to keep your holdings and resist those at your border. Fret not, however, the Conquerors will not move against you."


    Again, I was ready to leave it at that, but Cecile spoke up again.


    "And, how do you know that? Why would the Conquerors stay their hand?"


    Again, it was a good opportunity.


    "Because I would move, and they know I''m not foolish enough to fight them honorably."


    Aaannnddd¡­ exit stage left.


    The crowd dispersed quickly and left us alone, but some lingered to watch Lady Adil get helped up by her guards. Someone could put a twist on things and make me out to be some tyrant, or even someone who laid claim to the continent, but I thought I did as well as I could. Anyone who actually saw things could verify the truth and the right people were going to hear it.


    They''ll hear that I''m acting on behalf of my country''s future, that I''m not willing to back down when certain lines were crossed, and that I intended to use my superior economy to put down trouble. Undoubtedly, some people will try to start trouble in my territories by instigating uprisings of villages, empowering bandits, or hiring mercenaries, while my army was away.


    But I already planned for that.


    "Ayah, contact the disciples of the Smiling Tyrant. Tell them I want a festival for our people all across my lands."


    "A wise choice, my king." Ayah demurred and I knew that the deed was done. I''d let the cult grow into its full potential as a district in my capital for a single reason. They cost a lot for their meagre happiness bonus, but the power they provided when given enough coin and allowed to advance up district tiers was immense. In essence, the ''Smiling Tyrant Festival'' was a huge security boost and happiness boost for 4 turns, or an entire year, with a cooldown of 8. That cooldown went down with every district level increase by 2. At max level (3) it was a 4 turn cooldown, meaning perpetual security and happiness boost, as long as you had the money. Which, of course, I planned on having. "It will be done."


    Wars decreased happiness, everyone will be interested in fomenting rebellion and crime while my soldiers were away, so the Smiling Tyrant Festival was necessary. They''ll keep the populace happy even with victory not involving conquest or loot, and more importantly, make sure that my territories weren''t infiltrated and filled with bandits.


    With that order, all I had to do now was sit and wait through my classes.


    My armies are right on the border and by the time they get to the first village, Rita and Ilych would be there to support Riegert.


    Three Champions against one, since the Undead had their second Champion training here with me, and they weren''t going to risk her.


    The fight, like all the best fights, was already over.

 V2: Chapter 11:

    V2: Chapter 11:


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    Our King once against showed his brilliance to the world in method of arrival to the front.


    The system was new, a method of quickly relaying messages across the continent, and it was tested today. Stations of messengers and flying mounts, each within reach with one another, meant to form an unbroken chain from one place to another. The concept was tested with myself and Ilych, alongside our war gear, on the way to the front against the Guardians of the Moon.


    A relay of stations, riders, and all manner of mounts.


    Ascend, ride, descend, and once again at another place in another time.


    We flew fast, to the limit of each mount, but none perished or were expended as they flew for naught more the four hours before each rest. Then, we met with new riders and new mounts, both pairs fresh, and joined them through the skies.


    A journey that should''ve taken two weeks for us, breaking horses by pushing them past their limit, took mere five days.


    We arrived on time.


    "Commander Ilych. Commander Rita." One of Riegert''s men greeted us. Oswald was his name. Head bereft of hair, save for a large mustache and bushy eyebrows, he was a face covered in scars and tanned by the sun. He seemed out of place in shining steel armor and an untattered scarlet coat, let alone a blessed blade, but the years of mercenary work were long behind him now. He led true armies now. "We''ve just finished the outermost region off. Nothing but a few defending swarms of raised skeletons. No trouble. No casualties."


    Ilych nodded, and I answered.


    "Good. Begin unmaking the Guardian''s territory. All that is worth taking shall be taken. That which cannot be taken will burn. Tell the mages to unmake their hallowed ground, as well." Oswald relayed my command to his officers the moment I presented to him our king''s crest, which was the similar to the one on his back. A golden crow with wings spread wide holding arrows in one talon and a scroll in the other. Our King did not shy away from his past. The difference in the one I carried was that a wax seal of blue upon which our king pressed his signet ring. "The Guardians have refused the peace we have offered and so they must be brought low."


    "Yes, commander. This''ll be good for the new troops." I agreed with Oswald with a nod, as he led us past the landing area of the camp''s command post. A few strides and we were out of its perimeter and looking upon a vast field filled by the army. Tents were arrayed in clusters around fires and their supplies. Latrines were dug and sectioned off beside places for waste. Places for drill, practice, and assembly were set. The normal train of civilians that followed armies was outside, past the fortifications made by filling large, hollow blocks of textile and wire with hundreds of pounds of dirt. There was another form of defense at the front too, a spool of curling wire that unfurled into long, deadly blades to deter any from trying to scale the wall. Much was from our King''s mind, but refined by the places of learning that he funded. "Riegert will be arriving in a few days."


    Ilych stepped forward and then gestured to a village in the distance.


    I nodded.


    "Give us your light cavalry, we''ll strike out against the village and run along their west side. We shall attract attention and hope to get their Champions after us. Your forces shall take the east." Speed and power in equal measure. Some said that one or the other was chosen, but our King thought differently. Our duty was to strike as fast as lightning and withdraw as quickly as one did, too. Though Ilych and I were fresh from a long journey, we had no need for rest yet. Months on end of the Academy, with sparse moments of activity in the ruins below, meant that we had power to spare. "Ride out at dawn. Send all you can. Inform them that they will find only destruction where we are. If the enemy Champion searches for you, withdraw and call for us."


    "Yes, commander." A shadow of consternation formed on the veteran''s face at the thought of retreat, but it faded when he looked upon his troops. They were the not the veterans and fellow lifetime warriors he fought with before. These were young men with bright futures set to serve under the King of Wisdom¡­ and greater foes loomed on the horizon. They were needed more in the future than the present. "Ride well and let nothing break your stride."


    Ilych surprisingly spoke.


    "Survive, uncle, and retire after this. Leave everything to us."


    Then, the silent giant clad in all-black returned and waded towards the horizon.


    Oswald''s throat clenched and his eyes grew wet, but a smile split on his lips and a chuckle left him, before he turned and left without a word.


    I went after Ilych a moment later.


    It was good that those who fought for so long can soon rest and rely on those they protected.


    ?


    Ilych had been unable to display her strength and power in the narrow tunnels of the ruins. Outside, even in the midst of buildings of wood and thatch, her true strength was unveiled.


    "Hah!" Exerting herself completely resulted in dozens of skeletons wielding clubs and maces to come undone. They were not simply broken apart and made so that they could reform, but instead utterly shattered and thus became incapable of reforming. The blood-drinking relic that she wielded drank the power that gave them movement, but that mattered little when a swipe of the blade smashed through row after row from one side of a street to another and left naught but dust. "Rita! Upon the town hall!"


    She cried out and I turned my gaze to her shout.


    I found the last of my prey.


    No.


    Target.


    The bow that I used was found in the treasure of my former people. Our King told me it was perfect for hunting down single targets at range, but poor for work up close. He was correct. The people to whom I once belonged called it the Springsong and it was composed of a white wood and Ancient-forged metals reforged in their Citadel. As tall as I, with a string composed of unknown metal from the Ancients, it was also enchanted to give its user far longer range and imbue the arrows with greater speed, resiliency, and to overcome magical defenses.


    I sighted the necromancer leading the defense in town''s main hall, defended by armored men-at-arms, and fell back on instant.


    I fell away, becoming nothing, while my whole world for an instant became my target, my arrow, and my target. Instinct and skill came together as I drew back the weapon, my body''s cries of fatigue and stress a faraway memory, while I moved to what my instinct detected and that which I could not. The wind that blew across the forested tree tops, the currents of magic across the town, the movement of my own target¡­ all of it moved the arrow and bow until I knew one singular thing: that my shot would land.


    I let loose, the winds surged around my arrow, and it flew.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    A moment later the necromancer''s arm and her staff blew apart, and she stood, unknown, until she realized what became and opened her mouth to a scream that I could not hear.


    The defenses crumbled with her power disrupted, and the sound of hooves reached my ears.


    The first town of many that would fall to us.


    The light cavalry will take what we needed and hurry the refugees to the Citadel of the Guardians, while Ilych and I shattered the Guardian''s western frontier.


    Before they could breathe, before they could form a plan, and before they could march out, we will be victorious.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert


    ?


    I thought I knew what devastation an army could inflict. After years and years with Khanrow, fighting, killing, and taking spoils from whatever we could afford, I though I''d seen what soldiers could do when told to destroy. So, I nodded at Jack''s words, steeled my heart, and accepted what was to come from what we were meant to do.


    Then, I arrived at the front and realized that I did not understand.


    "General, you''re early."


    "Not early enough, Oswald. What am I looking at?" The camp was laid out well. Food and tents in one area, assembly, and places to maintain hygiene. As typical as any well-made camp, if a bit better defended with the textiles and wires made in the Citadel. The barbed wire was nasty stuff that could easily end cavalry, but the large blocks of reinforced dirt made for good walls too, but that wasn''t what took me off guard. "Is this what you''ve gathered in just five days?"


    Jack had called the army to move the moment we''d heard the first rumor. He knew we could bribe the Conquerors, and tried with the Guardians, but failed with the latter. So, he told us to march, Khanrow nodded, and the armies went forward. Only when the letter arrived that war was the only option did we strike, with Rita and Ilych pulled from the Academy to support us. Jack gave a gift to the Cult of the Smiling Tyrant to protect our people and entertain them, and I left to join once the first shipment arrived at the Conqueror''s Citadel.


    I thought I''d see an army waiting to be commanded.


    Instead, from above, I''d seen dozens of burning villages and our forward base''s assembly areas turned into storage areas.


    Storage areas surrounded by wagons waiting to be unloaded.


    "The fresh blood is something else, General. All that training, all the food, and probably the mission. Lots of young lads are here knowing they''re fighting for what''s right¡­ and getting rich off it." Oswald had a keen eye for the troops. It was why I chose him to lead in my stead when I was gone. He did a good job keeping people together and didn''t hesitate to call for a retreat, while being the last to leave. A good man¡­ and there was envy and awe in his eyes. "Imagine if we started out like this when we first went out into the world? Two cities and a king at our backs, fighting to bring down someone who wants to end a peace we''ve enjoyed, and getting rich off of it?"


    "It''s hard to imagine, but the boys down there seem to be enjoying just that." The morale in the camp was high. No. That was an understatement. There was an electricity in the air, like all the soldiers were itching to be sent out. The camps I remembered were filled with cunning, lean wolves. Deadly, but willing to back down from a fight. These boys, covered in armor, chatting, and glancing at the walls and seeing the faraway fires¡­ they all reminded me of a swarm of monsters ready to be unleashed. "Any word on the Guardians sending someone strong our way?"


    "Ilych and Rita are sending them on a wild chase along the western side of the guardian territory. Heavily forested area, small villages, and hard for Undead swarms to navigate." That was the weakness of the Guardians in their home territory. They had plenty to summon, but that plenty took the form of skeletons or walking corpses. Lots of numbers, but not fast enough to stop. They could hold ground, but when the goal was to chase down two powerful people like my daughter and Rita¡­ "That kid we picked up knows his stuff, huh?"


    "Yeah¡­ but he still has a thing or two to learn." I can work with this energy. Jack was too cautious and fair. There wasn''t enough bloodlust in his orders. This tight-knit, professional army he made achieved their objectives¡­ and none of the lower officers were coming up to suggest we keep moving, until we had to stop. This was a land filled with enemies they could whet their blades against, test their skills, and find their mistakes. "Call up the willing. We''re going for another run."


    "¡­And, here I thought you got soft raiding ruins all the time and dealing with diplomacy, Captain." Oswald chuckled, and I raised my brow when he didn''t call me general. It''s been a long time since I got called captain, and I found that I liked it. Times were more gruesome and violent when I had that title, but they were simpler too. This area was sophisticated and strong, but it needed to be simplified, just a little. I needed to make it a bit hungrier and give it some spite, so that in the direst of moments it''ll be that much stronger. "Where do you think we need to go?"


    "Where else, besides the next, primary objective?" Villages were the first phase. Outlying sectors that just acted as points to recruit talent and soldiers. Nothing important. Towns, meanwhile, had manufacturing or some sort of product that they imported. One of our primary objectives was to raze the fields of the Guardians by half, just barely keeping them out of a famine if they employed strict rationing. The sooner we started, the sooner that they understood they needed to surrender. "We aim for the nearest agricultural town. It''ll be like old times. Not much to carry¡­ a lot to burn. Saddle up."


    "Aye, captain! Everyone else¡­ you heard the man! MOUNT UP!"


    The command post was galvanized, while I took a seat and waited for a horse.


    I looked at my hands.


    Liver spots and wrinkles were scattered across it, but when I gripped tight there was no trembling.


    Not yet.


    I was still strong, but not for much longer.


    But, unlike all the times a decade ago, the thought didn''t bring fear in my heart.


    Instead, I looked at the machine of war coming alive in minutes as soon as the first trumpet sounded and felt a sense of duty. This was it, these were my last years, but they were going to be my best years. The years when I made my mark upon the world, when I trained true officers that would follow my teachings and pass it down, and led armies instead of warbands.


    I looked upon the Deliverer and felt inadequate, small, and mundane, despite all that I achieved.


    Now was the time to change that, not just for myself, but for the people walking down the road that paved.


    "Heh, not bad." I hefted my axe, still as light as a feather, and felt for my armor. Like always, it felt like a second skin. "Not for a killer, or a kid living off of scraps."


    I''ll give these kids everything I have at my very best.


    It was more than I ever though that I could give.

 V2: Chapter 12

    V2: Chapter 12


    ¡­


    I''ll be honest.


    Talking over the future of a war over lunch was something I didn''t expect to be doing.


    But House Adil made the offer through the formal channels, and they Academy was hosting the whole event.


    Now¡­ did I consider the Academy a trustworthy faction? Absolutely not. They were a bunch of opportunists that got lucky with a great starting position and used it to destabilize the outside regions. The loss of the market until trade routes and research was done was bad, but the Academy deserved what was coming for them.


    However, I could count on them to uphold their brand image until then, so I just asked Ayah to slip in a few trustworthy people amongst the guards and accepted the invite.


    Even in my past life, I never entered a restaurant/dining hall as extravagant as the one sequestered for the meeting. Sure, I''d seen the fancy places all over social media, with their fifty-dollar plates and hundred-dollar specials, but I''d never went. The fanciest places I went to had tablecloths and charged twenty dollars max.


    The Academy''s national dining hall absolutely reeked ''we exploit people for profit and love it.'' The floors were marble. Not marble paneling. Massive hunks of marble the length of whole rooms. Gold filigree was slapped on every surface that could host it. The long, dark wood table at the center sat on a rug covered in the Academy''s crest which stretched from one end of the table to the other. Four chandeliers flanked an absolutely massive one at the center of the room.


    In a world where most people plowed dirt for a living, these guys had a room absolutely drenched in wealth and power solely to eat in and talk about politics at. The rug alone would''ve taken years and years to make, specialized equipment for a single order even, and the guys put a table on it and drank wine while gorging their faces.


    Yeah.


    The Academy definitely deserved what it was going to get.


    No, I''m not just saying that because it didn''t give me the drops that I wanted.


    Anyway, the walls were lined with Academy guards House Adil''s heiress sat at one end of the long table, while I sat at the other. Academy liaisons waited at each end to relay our messages to one another. Literally relay, because there were teams of five for each side. This whole affair was going to be a convoluted ritual under the Academy''s gaze, with my opponent and I dancing around the subject, until someone broke and asked for what they wanted.


    As tempted as I was with good drink and great food, I went ahead with my plan and just walked past my end of the table.


    "My lord¡ª"


    "He will sit where he pleases." Ayah intercepted on my behalf. I could''ve said that, you know? I can tell the cashier that I don''t want pickles myself. Ah, well. Having a powerful person intercede on my behalf was always nice anyway. The Academy didn''t know that. They thought Ayah was just a maid, but my guards were quick to back the Ancient Administrator up and the liaison folded. "Please, do as you wish, my king."


    I gave a nod at the curtsy and statement and made my way across the room.


    I underestimated how stupidly long the room was, but I figured that just made the suspense that much more palpable, before I reached the seat to the right of House Adil.


    Confusion filled her gaze, until I gestured to the seat to her left.


    "Let''s talk. Face-to-face, Lady Adil." That seemed to surprise her, but after a moment of hesitation, she took the seat after rising. My guards arranged themselves behind me, while her guards did the same. The Academy''s people surrounded us, but they were not between us. Take that, you war profiteers! You''re going to get what you deserve eventually, but take this as an appetizer. " That''s much better, right?"


    "¡­ Indeed, King of Wisdom." The vampire tilted her head downward in a small nod. Ayah was quick to rearrange the dining setting for the two of us. Same number of glasses, plates, utensils, and courses. The vampire noble took note and sat straighter, while I just nodded and smiled. Presumably, the Ancient Administrator was doing a great job, but I was more focused on the gnashing teeth of the Academy''s liaisons. Well, they were actually whispering to each other in a huddle, but it was good enough. "So, despite assuming power over the continent, you deign to treat with me as an equal."


    Oh, thank you, every deity that''s deigning to listen.


    The vampire''s decided to just cut through all the bullshit.


    "I have told you already that there is a great threat on the horizon. The many enemies of the Ancients will see the rise of the Citadels as their return, so they shall return as well. All the peoples of this land are better unified under such a threat with all the strengths each of us could muster."


    "What of the Children of the Elm?"


    "Their attempt to assassinate me at our first meeting, the breaking of a duel of honor, and their subsequent attempts at uprisings should speak for them. They were unwilling to speak and be spoken to, so the sword was the only option." I did my best to smoothly put all the blame on the elves for being dicks with hard-ons for racial genocide. Out of all the factions, they were the ones that would never fall in line. Thankfully, their reputation (as assholes) preceded them and Lady Adil frowned when she couldn''t refute my statement. Imagine being such a terrible people that others look at the death of your civilization and culture and go: yeah, can''t blame the guys who did it, tbh. "As you can see, I am here now to treat with you with words, Lady Adil. While I cannot condone your actions, neither do I condemn them. Just like you, I only act for the happiness of my people, which is to ensure that this land is ready and capable of fighting against what is to come."


    There was a lot of cheese coming out of my mouth. Any nerd worth their salt will know that I''m just quoting other people. However, these guys sure as hell didn''t know that, and if I could skip all the work and use quotes authors spent months obsessing over¡­ I was going to skip all the work and use the quotes authors spent months obsessing over.


    Work smarter, so your hard work doesn''t go to shit!


    Lady Adil, meanwhile, took a bit of time to process my words. They invalidated a lot of the arguments that she probably had along the lines of me being an imperialist tyrant, that I have no right to do what I''m doing, and that the battle was between them and the orcs. The simple statement that I was doing things for the happiness of my people was probably resonating with her, since her people were all about noblesse oblige and using Undead to ramp up their economy through ''automation.'' The Undead had the strongest production capacity in the game, barely balanced by the fact they had to go through numerous techs and a massive self-diplomacy tree, to get other Vampires off their asses and do public works and industrial projects instead of waiting around to kill or be killed.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    The whole ''character arc'' for the Guardians of the Moon was that they learn to be more than just soldiers and fodder, which leads to them inheriting the will of the Ancients and becoming the new, benevolent hegemon.


    Overall, their ending was just behind the Orcs in terms of decency to other people and races.


    But I''m their opponent, so I had no intention of letting them go through their Shonen power-up arc and kick everyone''s asses.


    "I understand that the duty of a ruler is to ensure the happiness of their people, even if that means creating misery for others." Adil spoke slowly and carefully, like she was surrounded by spikes and traps. I suppose, in this diplomatic battlefield, such was the case given my reputation. Knowing every ''least terrible'' option to pick is always a benefit. "But do you believe that you can act as you do forever? When your forces are finished doing their duty, crippling my people, do you believe that I will stand idly by and not gather allies who believe the same as myself?"


    I answered without a bit of hesitation.


    "The Children of the Elm are beneath you. The Conquerors will never ally with those who are their equal, below them, or beyond their strength. The Forgers of Mountains do not act unless provoked." I listed off my knowledge and the air in the room went still. Forget a pin drop, you could probably hear a feather falling. I guess, to these guys, I was reading their minds and not working off of thousands of hours of experience, data-trawling, forum arguments, and wiki-diving. "The Merchants of the Marshlands will never take such a risky deal. The Wardens of the Caverns oppose you on every front in their belief of freedom. Then, finally, the Scholars of the Skies would ask too much of you for to take them as allies."


    For all their power and strength, the Undead had terrible starting relations with every other race except the Orcs. Generally speaking, if you went according to their meta and scaled up your industry, you''re going to need every bit of that industry because everyone else will look to kick your ass. Barring a series of Events popping up, the right Artifacts, and if they start first, the Undead don''t have a chance in hell of getting an alliance on their own.


    Players, though, could get them as allies easily as long as they don''t commit any atrocities and invest basic amounts of research into diplomacy.


    They were called the ''noob carry faction'' for a reason.


    Anyway, after I listed off all the factions, Lady Adil couldn''t respond.


    That was, until, one of the liaisons came forward.


    Oh no.


    Oh no. Oh no no no.


    Don''t tell me.


    They patched this shit out in 1.5, so that the Undead faction stopped getting themselves killed!


    "The honorable House of Adil does have allies amongst the Academy, King of Wisdom." One of the liaisons removed their stupid, puffy hat and revealed themselves to be the generic merchant NPC of the Academy that bought all the worthless shit you didn''t need. "Our armies now march to confront your forces. If you do not tell them to pull back, then they will confront the strength of the free armies of the Academy and its sister cities."


    For a brief second, Lady Adil looked relieved, until I let my frown show on my face.


    "Then, my time here is over. If this place is neutral no longer, then it is truly nothing more than a craven land filled with opportunists who seek only to prolong the violence beyond its mountains for profit." Dramatic? Definitely, but it needed to be said. I needed to make it as clear as possible to Adil that they signed up with the war profiteers. Given how she suddenly blanched, and the now-undisguised Academy representative looked furious, I could only assume that my words worked. "Ayah, rescind any further stay I have with the Academy along with Ilych''s and Rita''s. Prepare for our departure back home, too."


    I got up to leave while the mustached, portly man started to stammer and sweat.


    It must''ve occurred to him what he and his people did.


    The Academy is a place of neutrality and learning with the rise of the Citadels, because it has taken no side in the conflict. Now that it took the side of the Undead against me, that didn''t mean that they had an ally and was fighting me. That meant that they and their armies were now threats against all the possible foes that the Undead had.


    And, the Undead had a lot of possible foes, whoe I was going to inform of what was happening with my departure.


    "W-wait a moment! Depart!? How could you even consider that without finishing our curriculum¡ª


    "I read through everything that you have that I don''t have. Yet." I called back as I walked with my guard. The only pass time that I had was reading, therefore I went ahead and got everything that I needed. That was all that I was going to tell him. In truth, I also got into the good graces of teachers of the later years with the power of money and the reputation of having two Citadels under my belt constructing new academic centers. A lot of curriculums and syllabi showed up at my door with copies of books for consideration of future positions in my campuses. That should help Rita and Ilych finish their training. "I''ll teach both Rita and Ilych whatever else they need."


    Normally, a 14 year old saying those things would get laughed out of the room.


    But my reputation and grades spoke for themselves as Mr. Tubby''s mouth opened and closed with no words.


    Still, as a I reached one end of the table, I tried to salvage the situation.


    "Lady Adil, should you reconsider your current actions, I will be waiting until sunrise tomorrow morning to return to my Citadel. I''m afraid that it will be difficult to speak to one another thereafter." I spoke over my shoulder. Again, I felt like I was being too desperate in trying to be cool. My spleen felt like it wanted to crawl up my throat and give my brain a stroke. But I persisted. This could prevent a lot of actual, real people from dying or suffering in the long run. I had to give it all that I had. "Please, realize that the Academy taking part in this conflict and ceasing to be balancing, neutral party invites a war that will spread across the whole continent."


    With those words shared, I went ahead and left the dining room just a few minutes after going in.


    Ayah spoke up after we gained enough distance.


    "The Creator''s generals have always been slow to change and act¡­ save when it comes to the elimination of foes. Giving your location tomorrow was unwise."


    That had my guards stiffen up, until I chuckled.


    "We''re leaving tonight. If she decides to come to our home tomorrow, all she''ll find will be a letter for when she can really meet me next." That had my guards ease up. One even chuckled, until his senior nudged him in the chest plate. I thought about what we''d need before leaving, before recalling my failed project. "Oh, and offer the gunsmiths and alchemists we''ve been working with plenty to come along with us."

 V2: Chapter 13

    V2: Chapter 13


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    I''ll admit it.


    I still haven''t let go of a few boyhood fantasies, despite my age.


    But I''d like to know if there''s a man alive out there that doesn''t dream of dying in a blaze of glory. In a man''s mind, in his deepest fantasies, there''s always that desperately wish that when great horrors or terrible foes arise, at that moment, he feels only strength, courage, and the willingness to give his life for people that will remember him.


    As a man who spent most of his life as a mercenary, I though I''d let go of it. I''d left behind younger men than me to hold the rear while we escaped. When strength was needed, I often relied on others. Many times, I fled in fear with bitterness and spite filling my heart. Some I could blame on the madness of the continent, of the lust for battle and destruction that filled the hearts of so many, but many times it was my own fault.


    So, I buried my dreams with my regrets, steeled my heart, and prepared to do what I could.


    The defeats I suffered, the victories I enjoyed, and all the renown I gained would all be meant for the singular goal of returning a semblance of order to the continent.


    I''d accepted dying an ignoble death, a mere mark on the history books, as the father of Ilych.


    I bet everything on my daughter carving something out of the world that she could be proud of.


    Yet, here and now, I stood at the forefront of battle like a young man searching for the only form of immortality he could achieve: fame and glory achieved through battle.


    Overhead bolts of entropy surged towards us, defended against by the protections of our mages. Arrows and bolts from bows and crossbows flew through the air and brought low bats and birds resurrected and enrobed in a pale flame. The thunderous rise and fall of galloping, armored horses, threatening to shatter stone streets, echoed in my helmet.


    I was at the front, riding at breakneck speed, toward the flank of the enemy with my axe held high.


    When it fell, I felt my own strength and power course through my veins, from my heart down to my arm and to the tip of my axe¡­ and so I struck down score after score of Undead infantry as easily as I breathed. Once from the right, another from over the shoulder from my left, a synchronous movement with one arm like swinging a light weight. It felt therapeutic, but I felt my axe break through and shatter bone and light armor with ease while my horse crushed many underfoot.


    Those I could not reach were destroyed by the whole cavalry corps behind my back. Each one was resplendent in full plate and their horses were as well armored. Beyond the ability of any mercenary band to field, their training, maintenance, and outfitting better used for flying cavalry despite their usefulness, but not so for the nation that I now served.


    Power surged around them as horns blew from above and so below. The horses were blessed and the so were the riders. The charge, midway through the enemy unit and suddenly going slow, became enrobed with power. Stone cracked beneath the strength of equine muscle enhanced by magic, armor lightened but retained it strength, and so my men surged past me with lances held forward and unbreaking.


    I''d forgotten, because after leaving childhood I thought of a glorious defeat instead of glorious victory.


    This was what true glory was.


    It was overwhelming.


    It was powerful.


    It was the weight of a true nation bringing another to heel through utter superiority.


    Not the low cunning and desperate tactics of warbands struggling to survive.


    Four dozen men in full plate and red cloaks rushed past me. I couldn''t keep up with them, as they crushed underfoot the enemy they were told to destroy. The simple spears of the Undead broke against their armor and their speed was too great for them to even be threatened to be pulled down. Bone turned to dust, light armor destroyed beyond recovery, and spears shattered against the weight of talent, training, and sums too incredible for any warlord to imagine.


    I found myself staring at the backs of the new generation, when Oswald came by my side.


    "Captain, we''ve gotten new orders from the camp." Pegasus Knights flew overhead. Desperate bolts of magic attempted to strike them down, but were intercepted by protections once again. They blew their horns to signal their descent, and they became like bright stars as they surged towards the enemy mages. The bolts of entropic power ceased moments later and the Knights arose once again. Then, our own mages began to hurl flame and wind at our foes. Gusts so condensed and fast that houses broke, and orbs of flame that melted stone the size of ogres. This battle was over. "The Academy has chosen to side with the Guardians of the Moon and several mercenary groups are coming our way."


    "Academy mercenaries, huh? How many?" Once upon a time, just the mere mention of the Academy''s retinue mercenaries coming our way was enough to run. Now, even as my esteem in those gilded men and women remained high, I asked how many were coming. "Are we outnumbered?"


    Oswald raised a brow at my words, before once again glancing at our work for the day. This was the second town that we''d smashed apart today, despite resistance from the Guardians. His horse smashed the chattering skull of a skeleton before he chuckled.


    "Looks like we''re not holding you back anymore, huh, Captain?" Oswald spoke, and I had the urge to rub the back of my head. My helmet and gauntlets prevented the action. However, I couldn''t deny it. Champions with Academy training, like myself, were the lynchpins of warbands. If we fell, the warband broke apart, cohesion would be lost, and it would rout. Thousands would die. I had to hold back, because I needed to keep myself alive and take as few risks as possible for everyone else''s sakes. "But do you think we can fight the Academy''s warbands? They''re strong."


    That was an understatement. The Academy recruited from the cream of the crop of their classes. Those who wanted a comfortable life by using their talent stayed aboard the Academy. Whether it was part of their small, private army or their many warbands on retainer, the Academy had the money to finance a lot of tools and talent. Both of which they used to keep themselves at the top of the pile of misery and madness that engulfed the continent.


    Now, though, they were lashing out and trying to retain that power against Citadels and resurgent polities.


    We had two Citadels, as large of a population, and professional armies instead of mercenaries. The number of Champions that they''ll throw at us will be a problem, but most who stayed with the Academy were generals or skilled clerks with an eye for budget. Most of the time they stayed behind the Academy''s mountain ranges and gates, only going out to smash apart warbands that threatened their hold or their trade routes, and hardly engaged in anything else.


    Many of the officer and squad leaders in our army were veterans of the war against the Children of the Elm. The new blood we had were taller and stronger from better diets, better educated, and eager for battle, but disciplined enough to hold the line¡­ and zealous enough to die standing for the cause. We had enough money to spare for cavalry on the field, instead of having to pick between them and aerial cavalry. Not only that, but our mage corps were growing at a rapid rate, with many returning to their alma matter to continue their education and peer further into the depths of magic.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Then, there were Ilych and Rita, both of who were making quick work of the enemy''s eastern flank.


    "We''ll see if they''re still as strong as we believe. A little taste should be fine, right?" I looked over Oswald, who held Jack''s missive in his hand. When my old friend raised an eyebrow, I felt a shiver go down my spine. Not of fear, but excitement. I took a tight hold of that sensation and refused to let it cloud my judgement¡­ or allow the smile on my lips to break out as my friend smiled too. "Dammit, Oswald. You''re not being paid to play coy."


    "Perhaps, Captain, but our King thinks otherwise. His orders are as follows: put the Academy in their place, if you can. If you can''t, tell me what you need."


    The smile that I had been trying to hold back broke through and I couldn''t help it.


    Surrounded by countless bones and a burning town, while triumphant blasts resounded through the air signaling the enemy retreat, I laughed.


    That brat was egging me on!


    "Gather everyone! We ride for the nearest Academy gate!"


    The Academy''s numbers were still an issue, but I''ll go ahead and use their own chokepoint against them.


    I''d spent every day in the Academy looking at all their wealth, power, and knowledge with barely-held back frustration.


    It was going to be nice to finally be able to tell them off.


    ?


    Looks like everyone''s been getting some free XP.


    What?


    They''re fighting actual soldiers, not children. You don''t go out into the battlefield thinking that you''re coming out rosy and fresh, especially if you''re getting a paycheck. Besides, I''ve made it a rule that my soldiers can only loot and pillage after they send refugees packing towards the enemy Citadel. Killing civilians is a waste of time, money, and military power.


    Oh, and it''s morally wrong, but in a 4X game the first three are way more important.


    "Ayah, is there an after-battle report for the engagement against the Academy? I was reading reports while being transported to the front to lead. Khanrow had things handled back home, so I was heading to the front to keep getting Events right. It was the one bit of foresight that I could actively use to help myself out, so I was going to use it. Besides, even with the Pegasus Express working, a week-long delay between orders was still horrific when I used to deal with milliseconds of delay. "What was the damage there?"


    "Insignificant."


    "Yeah, yeah. Give me the paper. You think anything below ten thousand casualties is insignificant."


    "Given your army and population size, along with your ability to mobilize your forces, it is."


    "Lost lives are lost lives." The Ancient Administrator shrugged at my statement. That sort of thinking was hazardous to my health. While I certainly wanted to mass up units and throw them at the enemy until I won, I needed to keep my soldiers alive. Not only would they advance through the ranks, and enter my military academy to learn some of the magical bullshit and become better units, but their lives were linked to my fame and reputation. If either plummeted, then I could easily find myself facing an execution. "Now, the report. Please."


    Ayah crossed one leg over the other, and I managed to look down onto the papers I already had before I got flashed. Yes, I know that I should just get relief. No, I refuse to get any. Raising my resistance to seduction, training myself to resist at the very height of puberty, is my best bet at evading death when assassins and seductresses get sent after me.


    I am very enticed and very hormone-ridden, but I''m looking to live a long and happy life that doesn''t involve getting killed while getting nookie.


    "Fine, as you wish. Commander Riegert reports a victory with some casualties, but very few deaths, as well as the destruction of the Academy''s gate closest to the Guardians." Casualties were fine. Healing magic took care of most injuries. Most of those soldiers would be fully healed and just need physical rehabilitation when they got back. Or, of course, mental rehabilitation. The trauma of getting your chest caved in, even if you''re okay now, is pretty high. "Commander Riegert reports that our forces have equipment parity with the Academy''s own and exceed them in talent. With proper positioning and leadership, they can be fought while achieving objectives. He doesn''t recommend attempting to annihilate the armies of the Academy. Yet."


    "Sounds about right." The Academy has a strong standing military force, which they augmented with mercenaries. Mercenaries were regular units, given a little buff, and a little shine for a bit of gold and higher upkeep. Some factions had the ability to remove their colors from the mercs and have them operate as deniable assets, which was pretty annoying. At this stage of the game, though, the Academy was the only one with coffers deep enough and incomes high enough to field whole armies of them. "Riegert did the right thing."


    It was the same thing I would''ve done in the game. Attack the objective, give the enemy the runaround while I could, and retreat while the enemy gave chase. The casualties were probably from the cavalry and aerial cavalry, as they covered the retreat of the mages and the infantry tanking for them. Hell, if I trapped enough of the enemy on the other side, I would''ve gone out of my way to defeat the remaining army on my side in detail for some free XP.


    "Alright, what''s the status on Ilych and Rita?"


    I was prepared to hear that they were leapfrogging and razing down settlements as I instructed.


    Instead, apparently, I underestimated the amount of XP they gained while we were looking for the secrets of beating the apocalypse via lead poisoning (direct).


    "The eastern half of the Guardian''s territory has been destroyed and Ilych and Rita have both gone to reinforce Riegert. Their assigned cavalry force is arriving with them."


    I put two and two together, before giving the order.


    "Alright, it looks like we can make something happen before withdrawing." Three Champions with high stats and good Artifacts, with armies that are still fresh and receiving constant supplies? I wouldn''t be much of a strategist, if I decided to get out now. There was potential to do something, even if I couldn''t seize the enemy Citadel. Hm. Breaking down a gate meant three turns before the Academy and the Undead reconnected in-game¡­ but what if we could do more than just break a gate? "Hey, Ayah, can you run some numbers for me?"


    "Of course."


    "Alright, how much explosives and magic do we need to bury the pass between the Guardians and the Academy?"


    With that gate buried, every trade route the Guardians and Academy could have will need to go through very unfriendly territory. The game didn''t have destructible environments, but this world was real and I had the army necessary to hold the line for a bit of demolition work to take place.


    Therefore, it was time to see if I could rearrange the landscape for my benefit.


    Besides, once the demons popped up from beneath the Academy, I''d like to know if I could blow up the routes between their lands and mine.

 V2: Chapter 14

    V2: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    If you''re not cheating, you''re not trying.


    My life''s on the line, therefore I''ll use every trick I''ve got, anything I can steal, and hamstring anyone competing with me. It''s a terrible mindset to have in a functioning society where people help each other. In a situation where several world-ending threats are about to barrel in, and everyone else is being too stupid to just work together, I''m not holding back. Morals and ethics are luxuries that I can''t afford, but I hope to get through all my war crimes and atrocities in my old age, alive, and with a therapist.


    Damn, I need to start working on making a curriculum to train therapists, so that they''ll be decent when I retire.


    Because all the things I''m doing are most definitely causing mental damage and trauma.


    Sure, I''m young with a flexible and capable brain, but I''m sure once things start deteriorating I''m going to need help. As much as I''d like to say that sending tens of thousands of people to kill each other means nothing to me thanks to thousands of times doing it digitally, that wasn''t the case. I knew this place was real the moment I first touched a corpse, had it burst, and had to pilfer through the rotten pile for scraps of metal and leather.


    This place was real.


    My orders are hurting other people, they''re getting people killed, and I couldn''t stop because backing down would just get more people killed. Everyone else is also fighting to win. No one thinks they''re in the wrong. Everyone is out to do the best for their people, right wrongs, and survive. That''s true for all the Faction Leaders, the Champions, the generals, the officers, and the regular soldiers.


    Everyone, just like me, was trying to live.


    In a perfect world, everyone will listen, everyone will work together, and we can all just prepare for what''s coming, research what we need, and kill the fuckers that were going to try and kill us and couldn''t be reasoned with. But this wasn''t a perfect world, I needed to make the call to harm hundreds of thousands indirectly and tens of thousands directly, if I wanted myself and those who relied on me to survive what was coming.


    So, I looked across the battlefield at a gate house where young soldiers of the Academy were stationed. Their armor was shining, their shields unbattered, and their eyes filled with fear as across from them was an army that could break through the gate with ease.


    But that army wasn''t, because it was preparing for something else entirely.


    Burying them and their whole position alive.


    A part of me told me to just wait and stand by, fire off the magical spell after the ritual was completed and leave.


    In the end, though, I looked over to Ayah after putting my telescope down.


    "Send a messenger over there under a flag of truce. I want to speak to them and convince them to leave the area."


    "The Academy will kill them for leaving their position. Their families will be brought to ruin. This posting is for smaller noble households with much to prove." Ayah stated simply, while putting a cup of tea down on the small table beside me. My command center was on a small, fortified hill. Fortifications both physical and magical. Early game magical artillery, even from a Champion, wouldn''t break through this level of protection. Or, so I hoped. "Sending in your forces to dig them out will result in casualties. You''re sending a messenger forward with the hopes that men will choose their lives over their whole legacies and the future of their families, because their lineage will be brought to ruin if they choose to live."


    Ayah''s words hung in the air for a bit, until I responded.


    "Yeah, I think some people will take that offer. Go ahead and send the messenger."


    If people wanted out, I''m giving them an out.


    Forcing people to die honorably is stupid.


    Hell, not sending a messenger forward would say to everyone else that I had no intention of giving my enemies a chance to surrender.


    If I can win a fight by just showing up, throwing a big magical fuck-you on the table, and telling people to surrender?


    I will.


    ¡­


    Riegert was surprisingly in a good mood for someone who tore through a whole army just a day ago.


    "Kid, how are ya?" Ew, gross. He''s being nice to me. "Heard that you pulled yourself and everyone else out of the Academy?"


    "Their political goals and aims would''ve had the make a mess of things. Might as well learn on our own." Riegert took a seat in my command tent after I bid him to. He could''ve done it without asking, since he and Khanrow were the real leaders, but we maintained the fa?ade. He was my mentor and father figure. I''m the kid with brains that his boss installed after he ''died.'' "How was your battle against the Academy forces?"


    "They put up a fight, but it wasn''t close. They spent most of their days getting fat and slow behind the mountains. Most of our officers have been fighting for years, like Oswald here, and the new troops are well-trained." I gave the aforementioned officer a nod. Riegert sounded just about right regarding the Academy''s forces.


    The Academy had T1 units with decent upgrades led by generic Champions. No one special guiding armies of chaff. The fact that they were well-supplies and organized was how they managed to overcome the warlords back in the day. Now, though, they had to deal with the same issue the US had with its military. They had a lot of people, but also a lot of enemies, and the upkeep costs were so high that they couldn''t afford to research new technology¡­ or retrofit their whole armies. If the Academy wanted to join in, they needed to upgrade everything they had while maintaining their forces, and they didn''t have the US''s military budget.


    Hm, it''ll be pretty good if we lit a fire under their ass.


    They''ll kill more demons while going down.


    Riegert spoke again, after noticing I was deep in thought.


    "Something on your mind, King Jack?"


    "Just a thought experiment. Something we can do about what''s coming. I''ll tell you later. We have a guest." I messenger came in and met my gaze. A quick bow and a nod in return had the man leave. A call came out, and the sound of someone unmounting reached me. The tent''s flap opened to admit the Academy gate''s representative, and I was surprised to find that the man''s armor was battered and his tunic was covered in blood. It seems that there was an altercation in the gate after my offer. I stood up and the man got onto one knee. "Good day. Have you come to accept my terms of surrender for your garrison, officer?"


    "Vice-captain, and yes, your majesty. Me and my remaining men will surrender our arms, armor, ledgers, and supplies to you in exchange for our lives." I tilted my head at the familiar voice. I''d heard that loads before in multiple playthroughs. When I nodded at the man, he took that as a sign to rise and remove his helmet. It was Reynaud of the Resistance. The remains of the Academy armies gathered under him after losing their homes. You gave them supplies and donated units to them in the game, so that they could hold back the Demons from sending out invasion waves. Sure, they asked for whole armies or thousands of units of resources, but they could literally give you five more turns to prepare. These guys were fantastic assets¡­ but this guy was surrendering to me instead of remaining in the Academy to conduct guerilla warfare. Well¡­ shit. "Your majesty?"


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    Ah, must''ve looked disappointed for a moment.


    "My apologies for forcing you and your men to turn against your comrades." Right, time to make it seem that I felt bad for other people''s bad decisions. I mean, I gave them an out. If they decided to fight their own fellows for the right to get buried under rubble, that''s on them. I''ve done what I can as a decent opponent. "Rest assured that my word is true. Go forth and call your fellows. You will be treated honorably and any who harm you and yours will be punished. The bodies of your former compatriots will be buried with honors."


    Reynaud paused at my statement, before gulping strongly and nodding. It felt weird to look at a grown man holding back tears, but I wasn''t going to look away.


    "You have my thanks, King of Wisdom. I will fetch my men now." The man gave another bow, before turning on his heel and leaving.


    Riegert made sure that the footfalls of the horse the man was on was far enough before he made his comment.


    "Maybe, we should''ve had you speak with them instead of a messenger. They might''ve surrendered."


    I didn''t know whether the bearded, muscle-bound man covered in enough armor to make a refrigerator jealous was joking.


    Still, I answered.


    "I have an obligation to my people to stay safe and not risk such things. It is unfortunate, but I cannot take such a risk."


    It was a roundabout way of saying that I didn''t want to risk my life to get one gate to surrender peacefully, but it seemed to answer Riegert''s statement.


    ?


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Two months.


    That was all it took for the King of Wisdom to destroy our connection to the Academy, ravage our lands, and flood us with refugees. Not only that, but those refugees were those who we promised safety and security, and all they saw now was our forces routed, their homes destroyed, and that oath broken. In a way, the mercy that the King of Wisdom gave to our people was a cruelty to us.


    Once, I looked upon the lands surveyed by the Citadel and felt eagerness and optimism.


    The day was ours, we were on the cusp of greatness, and there was nothing that could stop us.


    Yet, in half of a season, all our work since we took the Citadel was destroyed, only our capital remained, and it was filled to the brim with tens of thousands who lost everything¡­ and who now lived in slums. Not only that, but at my topmost room at the Citadel, I saw smoke still rising in the horizon, as continuous reminders of my faults and mistakes.


    The mighty alloys forged by the Ancients threatened to break under my grip, as my teeth gritted together, while I fought against despair.


    It was almost too much for me to hold.


    Yet, I knew that I had to hold on, that I had to endure, and do my utmost to reclaim what we lost.


    A cold breeze drifted beside me and I turned away from the burning villages in the edges of my territory towards my teacher.


    "Catherine."


    "My lady, all scouts report that the forces of the King of Wisdom have left our territory. They are done."


    "And, as he said, we have almost been finished."


    "My lady¡­"


    "It is the truth and now we must rebuild while others grow ever-stronger." Catherine bowed at my words, but I retook my seat at my table. Mere months ago, I sat at the end of a lecture hall yawning and wondering what questions would arise at our examination. But no longer. I could no longer afford to do such a thing. Tutors were set to arrive, expensive, but they will ensure that I know what I need. "Tell me of the courts."


    "The cries for reprisal against the King of Wisdom''s forces faltered when they showed their hand. Many complain at the defeat, but hardly any say that victory was possible." I nodded. The various courts that backed me amongst my kin were proud, but they did not allow that pride to blind them. They knew that our forces were outmatched the moment the armies of the King of Wisdom broke through our defenses, created their own fortifications on our lands, and then ravaged them without their step being broken. "A few officers that were angered at being held back have withdrawn their formal complaints and called back their houses. Even they see that you held them back from obliteration."


    That was one problem held at bay, but solely due to my teacher''s own foresight and wisdom in doing our utmost to consolidate them before I went away.


    "We need solutions for the rising slums in our city. Immediately." For now, my fellows were understanding. This was a part of war. However, they are much less understanding with the enemy no longer at the gate. Spring just ended, yet their crops burned. The crops planted now will be too weak to survive the summer. Come fall and winter, many will fall to sickness and death, if we sent them out with meagre aid. These people had to be cared for until the end of the year. Once again, the King of Wisdom''s mercy was a form of cruelty to ensure that we would not be able to wage war. "See how much land can be cleared in the outskirts. Begin creating large domiciles for the people. Focus on housing the farmers and tradesmen and getting them to work. We need funds to survive this winter¡­ and cancel the outfitting of our next army."


    "¡­Yes, my lady." Catherine bowed, raising no complaint, while I let loose a sigh. She floated near me, and I looked up to see her smile. "You are doing as well as you are able, my student. Do not lose heart."


    I paused at the words, before nodding.


    Our armies and military assets were still whole, our borders remained secure, and any bandits will perish. Though we lost much, we can still rebuild by using the treasury we have remaining and curtailing costs. The plans that we had were destroyed, and we could no longer wage a war, but still we remained with much power at our disposal.


    That, too, was according to the King of Wisdom''s plans.


    I had declared myself his rival at our first meeting, yet now have found myself utterly humbled.


    Still, I will persevere in our contest.


    I will not fail my people.


    Not against the King of Wisdom.


    Not against all who hold Citadels under their control.


    And, finally, not against the foes that felled the Ancients.


    From this, I will learn, I will grow, and I will become more.


    Not just for my people, but for my own sake.


    I will stand against him one day as an equal.

 V2: Chapter 15:

    V2: Chapter 15:


    ¡­


    Interlude: Alistair, The Headmaster


    ¡­


    Centuries of careful planning undone in half of a decade.


    "Your plan failed. The cost of this failure is on your head, Tulum." The man had assured me that the so-called King of Wisdom would falter and fall. None could stand against the Academy when it chose a side. Our prominence will be assured, even in the face of two ancient towers in the hands of a child. Yet, such was not the case. "The Academy has been dragged through the mud. Our gate to the lands of the Guardians of the Moon has been destroyed. The boy-king rides at the head of another victory."


    Jack, the boy-king, raised to his position by sheer chance and the dying whims of a foolish warlord. His achievements spread through the land, giving him prominence and fame beyond his worth. Many whispered of his genius, of his ability, and of how he was leading so many to prosperity and peace. In truth, he was but a figurehead. A clever figurehead, but one that received constant instruction through coded letters, as his true masters hid themselves away in their Citadel.


    A sacrificial lamb being bred for slaughter, but also the vehicle of our defeat.


    "H-headmaster, I admit my f-faults and foolishness. Please, I beg of you, grant me a chance to make amends." Tulum was a man of talent and skill and ambition. The first two were of use to me. The last was a means to control him. I raised him up through the ranks with the same intention that Riegert and his fellows raised the scavenger. I used him, gave him wealth and power, and now it was time to wash my hands of him. I looked at my guards and they moved as one. "No! Please! No, no, no!"


    "I am reassigning you to our northern expedition. Funds will be allocated for you to bring your family along." If he gained some semblance of clarity, he would liquidate his assets within the day and bring them along the expedition, and flee before it reached its goal. The discovery of the Ancient''s foes had to be verified, and even if Riegert and his allies were lying, the northern lands were known to be inhospitable and dangerous. Only half of the expedition would return. "Return successfully and perhaps I will consider giving you a measure of the power you once had."


    That was a lie.


    I would not give this man yet another chance to turn us into fools.


    "Thank you, thank you! Thank you so much!" The man wept and tears streamed from his eyes in gratitude, even as he was dragged out of my study. The lamplights were flickering outside the moon was full. It was the dead of night, far past when I usually made any decision in the past decade, but now it was the norm.


    "Belford."


    "Headmaster." My spy announced himself by coming forth from the shadows. Clad in a living cloak of shadow passed down for generations in his family, he seemed more monster than man. A writhing mass of shadows that bled into reality at his fringes. For years and years, I had little work for him, besides dispatching an aspirant warlord or two with delusions of grandeur. Now, I relied on him every day. "My people are coming up against opposition in both territories held by the scapegoat. We are changing tactics and infiltrating via their lesser institutions. It will take time, but we will reach their highest echelons."


    "Time we can scarcely spare, but I leave the matter to you." I entrusted the matter to Belford, because I knew of his skill and aptitude. His whole lineage has proven itself time and time again. Crisis after crisis was solved before coming to head, before the Academy had to dirty its hands, because of their efforts. Now, as we find ourselves surrounded by so many potential foes, we must make use of him more than ever. "Tell me what you need and you shall have it."


    "I shall prepare a list and have it sent to you by the next evening."


    "Then, go."


    Belford faded into the shadows, only the slightest increase in chill telling me that he left my room, while I cast my gaze on the map on my desk. Just a few years ago, only one banner stood mighty upon the continent. The Academy''s green and gold of a lion holding a scroll and a shield. A declaration that the Academy will remain resolute, gather knowledge, and prepare to return civilization to all corners of the continent.


    Now, though, banner after banner surrounded us.


    Eight in total, but two of that number belong to the so-called King of Wisdom.


    Riegert and his companions knew how to garner attention and lay claim to the Ancient''s power. They took the Citadels, brought low the Children of the Elm, and began to showcase themselves to the populace. Their victory, their assets, and their story all combined into a heady brew that none could hope to ignore. People from all over the continent went to them in search of prosperity, in search of hope, and in search of power.


    Through this, they rivalled the Academy, and now their most recent victory all but declared a state of conflict between themselves and us.


    Their advantages were many. Each Citadel provided them with materials and food at a stead, constant rate at no cost. This cornerstone allowed the focus of labor on other forms of infrastructure, and the beginning of research into elevating themselves from the muck and grime. The alacrity of their change was startling and gave them more than anyone expected. Large cities seemingly built within half a decade, towns filled with tradesmen and farmers, and populations eager to multiply and produce more workers, soldiers, and specialists.


    "The world is set to go utterly mad." On the horizon, the dark clouds of a war that will engulf everything loomed. The peace and prosperity represented by the Citadels were a crude mask. The warlords beyond the Academy''s boundaries knew only war and conflict. They will seize and seize, until nothing is left for them to take, and then they shall set their sights elsewhere. If we do nothing, if we do not curtail their might and power, then everything will be undone. "We must do more."


    Though I spent many nights sleepless, I returned to sit on my desk to begin drafting the next set of meetings I needed to make.


    There were people I needed to visit, rebels that I needed to find, exiles to elevate, and nobility to press for coin and power.


    The Academy has overcome many challenges in its past, but each and every time we were pressed to the brink of our ability and had to use all that we had.


    In the face of our current foes, I feared that was not enough.


    So, I must do more than any headmaster ever did before to protect my home, my people, and my way of life.


    The Citadels must fall.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    "Could you have imagined seeing something like this five years ago?"


    "Never."


    Down the main street of the city, columns of infantry and infantry approached. On cobblestone streets, boots and hooves fell, while in the sky aerial cavalry flew in formation. Mages were on a floating platform, casting little spectacles of light and noise, while trumpets and drums resounded all across the city. Flanking the columns in tidy formation were crowds and crowds of people. Young, old, and everyone in between¡­ all cheering and tossing flowers for their troops.


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    A victory parade held by a nation for their victorious army.


    "Not bad for a few burnt fields and a blocked mountain pass." Riegert had a large tankard of ale in one hand. We both sat together in an apartment we''d taken over for the day to watch the parade. Those who lived within it readily accepted the coin that we offered them for the day. We were presumably providing security for the parade. They left us hot meals before we left. None were poisoned. "The new soldiers are getting spoiled."


    The constant music, the cheering of the crowds, and the sight of a true army in coordination flowing down the street almost made me want to simply let the statement go.


    But I couldn''t let my guard down, if I wanted this prosperity to continue.


    "The Academy won''t take this lying down. We''ve had multiple attempts to infiltrate our new facilities already." The military academy, university, and mage sanctum were immense investments by their nation. They could have three armies at their disposal now, if they invested there instead. However, Khanrow could not deny their usefulness. Officers on the field were learning more quickly, their research into ancient technology was advancing far more quickly, and their mages were growing in number and requiring less time to train. Not only that, but they attracted spies from all nations like honey to starving beasts. "A few were willing to turn coat from the other nations, but the ones from the Academy won''t."


    "Ah, they''re better off there¡­ for now." Riegert took a deep draught of ale and a massive bite of a sandwich that nearly engulfed the whole thing. I took a sidelong glance at my old friend. The man looked neater and tidier than usual, but there was a new strength to him that he was never there before. Was he training once more? "We''ll get one eventually. Maybe even before you or I retire."


    "The Academy is powerful and wealthy. Even after having one of its armies humbled and gates destroyed, the only thing stopping them from attacking us is that all the other nations have gathered on their borders." Jack had played his cards perfectly. The swift withdrawal from the Academy was an inspired move. One that I almost envied. In one fell swoop, he''d turned the Academy''s attempt to retain power into a declaration that they were tyrants and that all must oppose them. A call to arms that all with Citadels under their command would heed. "They''ll be looking to gather everyone they could, so that they have enough to keep themselves safe and attack. The best way of stopping that is getting their potential assets for ourselves."


    "That''s a big risk. Rita, Ilych, and I can be trusted. Others? Not so much." That was the truth of the matter when it came to Champions. Power is wanted, but it is also feared. Those who have been dubbed Champions are rarely accepted into the ranks of new warbands, because they can easily usurp the existing leader, if that leader was not strong enough to resist. "I can''t take one under my wing. Duels aren''t my forte. One under Rita and Ilych¡­ that''ll work, but we''ll be putting them at risk if we put two under them."


    It was a sound and logical deduction, but one that missed my point.


    "Our greatest weakness at the moment is that I cannot be here and our other Citadel at the same time, so what I need is an apprentice. One that I can put down with the Guardians at my disposal."


    "Ah, another spymaster. Hm. Shouldn''t Rita take that place?"


    "No. We need one under her and Ilych. Meanwhile, we''ll find another potential general as you suggested to train here."


    Riegert was taken aback.


    "You''ll be putting yourself at a lot of risk, Khanrow. You''ll be alone."


    "No more than anyone else trying to keep this land together." My blood quickened at the threat. Champions who focused on the same arts as I were few in number. The Academy did not teach such things. We were born and raised in our families and carefully taught the secrets that made each other peers. Unknown to one another, until we faced each other, and had to end one another live''s. Ours was a secret war, a secret way of life, and even our deaths were unknown to most. "My ability to control our network is stretched to its limit. We need to take the risk. Otherwise, all that awaits us is an invasion preceded with innumerable setbacks and acts of sabotage."


    Riegert frowned at my words and stared at his tankard. He put it down and finished his sandwich, before letting a sigh loose from his lips.


    "You want me to make contact with the Wardens, don''t you?"


    "My family''s old friends should be more than willing to provide me with an apprentice. The boy also needs to make friends, instead of enemies."


    "And, you''ll be throwing him at the Wardens? They''ll eat him alive."


    "Better that he learn how to resist feminine wiles early than late."


    "Hah, I don''t know whether you''ll make for the worst grandfather or the best!"


    "My granddaughter is quite fond of me. Jack is someone I need to teach."


    "Sure, Khanrow. Sure."


    Riegert''s wide grin was insufferable, but I sighed and went along with the levity he injected into the conversation. It was his way of reminding me that there was more to life than harsh decisions, even if we were doing it all to keep the prosperity that we had now.


    "Regardless, it will take time to recruit the teachers and smuggle them out of the Academy. Until we do so, you and Jack will visit the Wardens and forge an alliance with them. I will search for another general to lead, but if you can find one yourself amongst them, do so."


    "You''ll have better luck with the Conquerors for that." Riegert suggested and I raised my brow. The Conquerors didn''t seem that enticed to work with us, let alone offer us someone with so much potential. However, my old friend didn''t seem to be joking. "Trust me. They''re not sending anyone over to the Academy now and we''re the only ones with the right facilities to help them out. Honor demands that they give us someone of equal value¡­ and whoever that''ll be won''t betray us. It''ll shame them."


    Conquerors did have a long and storied record of loyalty and integrity, so I nodded after a few moments of though.


    "I''ll extend the offer, but we''ll keep an eye on whoever they offer."


    "And, I''ll look for someone that can help you do that."


    "Done."


    Riegert and I shared a moment of contentment at our agreement, simply watching the military parade go by, and allowing ourselves to relax.


    We will enjoy this peace while it lasts, and perhaps we will retire and leave it all to the next generation¡­ until the doom that Jack foretold arrived.


    Though a part of me feared what was coming, another part of me welcomed it.


    Dying surrounded by my family was all well and good, but the chance to die fighting and spiting the terrors that brought centuries upon centuries of pain and misery upon the continent?


    It was something that I wanted.

 V2: Epilogue:

    V2: Epilogue:


    ¡­


    I left for school, dropped out after razing half of a country, and came back to festivals and parades.


    If I''m not careful, I''ll start believing in my own ''legend'' and end up getting myself killed.


    Therefore, before getting sent off to find more allies, I scheduled a simple meeting to get myself humbled.


    The best way to do that, naturally, was to talk to a bro.


    And, the closest thing that I had to a bro happened to be Crusher, so I called him up for an informal meeting in a town between ours territories.


    Trade with the Conquerors of the Desert were moving quickly. I didn''t know how trains worked, but magic was very plentiful and mages apparently needed things to move around to refine their control. Therefore, floating platforms that only had to float forward on single rails were born. Yeah, I skipped ahead to levitating train cars, because magic is right there and I don''t know how combustion or steam engines work.


    But, I''ll move on from powering a budding rail network with the training of interns/apprentices.


    Tradestown, which was a great name no matter what anyone said, was mostly just a bunch of warehouses, places to eat, and places to rest. Between barracks-styled housing, and small apartment buildings, there were shops to get repairs for leathers, a general store, and loads of taverns. This was a place solely for work and if the trade ever stopped, it''ll become a ghost town within days. The security was high because it was the official trading area between the Orcs and my people, as well as the fact that the Orcs were eyeing up the levitating rail and its conductors.


    If you guys want your own, send your mages over to be taught by us.


    It''s not like we''ll be able to discern what they can do to us and counter them immediately if we ever go to war.


    Hah, we totally would, so they''ll never do that.


    Anyhow, I rented out one of the taverns and sequestered a whole street away for privacy, and so I waited for Crusher to arrive.


    My plans were for us to shoot the shit, complain, and eat like morons.


    While I''d like to drink, I held out against it, because hard liquor was still too damn expensive. When I become an alcoholic, I''d like to get smashed without ruining my monthly budget for luxury goods. So, I''ll be waiting until the liquor starts flowing, before I delve into alcoholism. Remember, kids, always drink responsibly¡­ never spend more on alcohol than you need to!


    The goal is to get drunk.


    Not to get off on smoky notes and smoothness.


    As that thought permeated my mind, the door to the tavern opened and I sighed in relief at the sight of Crusher in all his glory.


    "King of Wisdom."


    "Crusher." I greeted him in return and gestured for him to take a seat at the bar with me. His guards shuffled in and they were covered in half-plate and chainmail. They got lucky with their starting zone and got access to some rich iron reserves. We could only get full plate on ours because we had two starting regions worth of strategics to work with and we were constraining our production of armies. We only had full-fledged army, but if wew anted another of the same caliber, we''ll need to trade¡­ or fire up an early Steelworks, which is garbage. 50 gold a turn for 1 strategic unit of steel is garbage. Gonna wait until the tech''s progressed enough for a Steel Mill. "I see that you''ve been sharpening your teeth."


    "Meat use teeth. People use weapons." Crusher grunted and let one of his men take his coat. The Raiment of Thunder crackled on his form. It was a scorched-black suit of full-plate that crackled with azure lightning. It lowered the health of the wearer by 25%, but gave the Champion using it a passive aura that continuously applied magical damage to their surroundings. If the Champion was melee-oriented, took the Magical Weapons trait after a level up, and used a melee-weapon, their weapon will have a chance to stun any target upon hit. Upgrade their attack speed, and you can permastun an enemy Champion, so that you can murder it with ease. "I see that even you understand that.''


    "Oh, this? I''m afraid I don''t exactly compare to most swordsmen, though I do have great guardians to make up for it." I pointed at the small, upper level of the tavern. I couldn''t see them, but Rita and Ilych were both up there as my security detail. Both were fully kitted out with all the gear and equipment I''d pulled out from the Academy''s depths. Two against one was already fantastic odds, but Rita was rocking an Anti-Champion build, while Ilych was just obscenely strong. I couldn''t see her exact trait list, but it was definitely one of the murder-blender configurations. She can walk into a field filled three hundred or so professional soldiers and win, even if they didn''t retreat or break from seeing a tornado of blood and guts roaring towards them. "Don''t worry, I''ll make sure to sharpen my blade until I can be confident with¡­ just one of them around you and your men."


    "Hah, I''d like to see you try to reach such heights of martial prowess, King of Wisdom." Crusher chuckled and came forward. He took a seat at the end of the small table between us, which rapidly filled with plates of food. His guards came forward to poison check and found none, before he unceremoniously started to eat. I only started eating after him, since I was the host. A few chews of a whole lamb shank later, and Crusher spoke again. "You best hurry and grow stronger, because the Academy has now truly shed the carcass it has hidden behind. Their true colors as enslavers and schemers have been revealed to the continent entire."


    "Oh, you think that I''ll have to draw my sword to face the Academy? Do you think my armies are that weak?"


    "Your army is strong, but you only have one. The focus your people have on scholars and magic will be your undoing."


    "One army at full strength, or three at a quarter strength. I believe that you may need to build a university of your own, Crusher. Your numbers are quite poor."


    Crusher levelled a glare at me, his jaw set and tusks menacing outside his lips, and he stopped eating. The tavern was quiet, save for my knife going through my steak and my fork picking up the piece of meat. I ate it while not breaking my gaze from his own¡­ and a single chuckle left his lips.


    "Hah, it seems your time with those enslavers and murderers have not weakened you. You still know how to speak." Crusher spoke, and the tension in the air lessened. Not that it affected me in particular, since I knew these guys well. They liked to intimidate, but they''d never attack people out of war without good reason. And, I wasn''t going to give them that reason. "So, your people offer their new treasures for us to use. We will never accept having our mages or officers be trained by you, but matters of statecraft are universal¡­ as is the work of scholars."


    "And, we will happily offer our limited seats to your people and teach them as well as we can." In the game, friendly relationships started off with your civilization getting a bunch of a pop-ups for the things you had and didn''t have. Relations could be bettered by offering your new, friendly nation ''room'' in the facilities you had at your disposal. Increase their research output for magic, military, and the economy, if you had the right buildings, which I did. Excess resources were also on the table, though I personally preferred to just use the trade menu to make bribes, because it had a greater effect on the relationship score. People took handouts for granted, but windfalls are always greatly appreciated. "In exchange, we ask for talent. A skilled individual capable of being a Champion who will be able to lead the second army that we are building."


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    "You ask for one of our future generals for a meagre price."


    "In exchange for not furnishing and staffing and operating a university in it''s entirety? Is that not a worthy price for a budding general from the Conquerors? I had hoped to offer seats for all three academies, but you only wish for one."


    "Implying that I lowered the price myself?"


    "We are still willing to give seats for all three academies in exchange for one future general, Crusher. The offer is still there. Just refused for less."


    Crusher glared at me again. Big silence. Tension. All that jazz.


    I took a sip of some water.


    Man, it sure is great to know that the intimidate function really is just words!


    ?


    After the formalities were over, I joined Crusher at the end of the meal. While he had a whole keg to drink from, from which he drank by dunking a whole mug into in order to refill, I was helping myself to some cake. Taking care of your body was a lot easier when you had time to work out every single day, and the fact that sugar was pretty difficult to access for most towns. Loads of things were only lightly sweetened, but with my tastebuds less acclimated to sweetness, it took a lot less to get that hit that I wanted.


    So, I sat next to a massive Orc with more muscle in one leg than my whole body with a slice of cake, while he chugged tankard after tankard of beer to just get a light buzz.


    Couldn''t make up a more ludicrous sight.


    Anyway, I was talked mostly about home life for a bit, which was mostly studying for me, but he was caring for his children.


    Which was surprising, given the lore on Conquerors.


    The ones taking care of the kids were the ones who could be spared for it. The elderly, the ones who suffered too many wounds, and recovering warriors. The people who had experience to hand down, and who can handle six-foot tall, hormonal teenagers with more muscle than horses.


    It was pretty easy to put two-and-two together.


    "I''ve never heard of someone lamenting having such strong children."


    "They will be the death of me." Crusher grunted and shook his head. A heavy sigh left him and he gazed upward at the star-filled sky. The scarred moon was high above us and waning into a half-circle. Hard to believe that was once a massive military outpost that promised whole legions of soldiery arriving anywhere on the planet in hours. Harder to believe that the guys with that sort of firepower lost, but civil wars are a bitch. "My daughter and son spent much of their childhood sleeping, and now they are benefiting from the excess of food that we have. Their mother cannot bring them to heel, and I can barely do the same. This excursion is a welcome one."


    "Well, it''s better to have strong children than weak ones." Crusher gave a grunt of agreement at that, and the massive mass of muscle brightened up at the thought. I wondered how to cheer him up, but all that came to mind were the years I spent on this rock scavenging for every bit of scrap I could sell. I decided against ruining the lighthearted mood. "And, I''m sure that they''ll appreciate having fewer memories of ill-thought moments with your supervision."


    Less cringe to recoil from while being alone with your own thoughts is always nice.


    I wasn''t speaking from experience. I spent my teenage years the same way I spent my time off after work: playing games.


    Wait, some people might call that cringe itself.


    Are you telling me that my whole life is cringe!?


    Yeah, I agree.


    Moving on.


    "It is the way of the Conquerors to not shelter their children, but with our new lands, there are many who do so. Hunting rites are being stalled. Warrior rites are fewer and fewer. Many can no longer complete the rites necessary to ascend to the greatest height of Champion."


    "Yeah, it''s pretty hard to kill your way through a hundred armed soldiers and steal their officer''s horse in peacetime."


    Crusher barely raised an eyebrow when I mentioned his people''s greatest requirement before someone could have the resources invested into them to become a Champion of the Conquerors. He probably thought that I figured it out, but I just read the wiki like anyone else waiting for the game to load. The Conquerors history was based off an amalgam of loads of cultures back home. Mongol, Native American, a bit of Arabian, and more. The more you mix together, the more original it gets, and all that. Killing enemy soldiers and stealing an officer''s horse to have the right to wield Artifacts sounded vaguely Native American, but I''m uncultured, so I could be wrong.


    "I worry for the future of my people. Our strength has always been born of hardship. Our unity comes from that as well. What will become of us, if we find no worthy foes, and look for them amongst one another? That is how we were enslaved before we were all freed." It was an honest concern for Crusher''s end. There were probably plans by the governing body to stop that from happening, but a Champion wouldn''t know about it. Rebellions and insurrections happened if you had negative happiness through your whole empire, and it was a good way of dealing with the Conquerors. Quarantine them, wait for their population to explode, and refuse to trade with them. They''ll get low happiness and their people and armies will turn on each other, until someone can sweep in for the kill. "I can see that you know what I fear, King of Wisdom. If you have any ounce of mercy for your foes, would you not share the secret that you know that will save my people from repeating our history?"


    On one hand, I would lose a strategic advantage.


    On the other hand, I''m not a fucking monster¡­ and these guys weren''t sprites on a screen.


    They''re people, and I''m doing my best to survive with as few regrets as possible.


    So, of course, I told what to look into vaguely from my knowledge of the tech tree and authors to look into from the books I read at the library.


    Only time will tell if I made a mistake and fucked myself over by doing this good dead, but until then¡­ I''ll sleep well at night knowing I did the right thing.


    Hopefully.

 V3: Chapter 1:

    V3: Chapter 1:


    ¡­


    I''d always thought massive, moving carriages were a stupid idea. One giant wagon with massive wheels pulled by dozens of horses through the landscape, like a luxury bus sans an actual motor? Yeah, I''d rather those horses pull plows or transport materials. Opportunity cost should be at the forefront of the mind of any leader. Forty-plus horses can be used a lot better for other things than pull along a small, shitty house across the continent.


    Still, as the wannabe eminent power rivalling the Academy on the continent, I couldn''t roll up to someone else''s lands looking poor. The unfortunate truth of the matter is that you need to look good in order to be treated like a you''re worth talking to. Unlike the modern world, where you can just put on a suit and look good enough for any occasion, in this world, things were different. The whole entourage needed to look good.


    The horses needed to be the finest.


    The soldiers the best.


    The servants needed to be top-of-the-class.


    The drip should be beyond question.


    Now, it shouldn''t surprise anyone that I have no clue about anything regarding fashion or customs of this world. I barely knew anything about either in my previous world, and that''s when I had a little device on hand at all times that could access all the knowledge the world wanted me to know. Sure, I had some tutors that taught me things regarding the subject, but they were tertiary classes that were once in a blue moon.


    Honestly, you''d think ravaging a whole country in a few days would get a guy enough respect to walk somewhere wearing sweatpants without being considered trash, but that''s just life.


    Anyway, in the end, I couldn''t be bothered to deal with everything.


    So, I just asked the person arranging the whole thing how much they needed, told them I didn''t want it to look gaudy, gave them some ideas, and doubled their budget.


    In hindsight, that was a mistake.


    ?


    "I feel like I''m at the head of a victory march. Not a diplomatic parade." I spoke to Riegert through gritted teeth, as we neared the Wardens'' Citadel. They were one of the last to get their Citadel. Sure, they had the advantage of knowing what they were doing, but they were still just getting started on things. So, my whole procession/parade/travel caravan was going through a city in construction with many living in makeshift housing or tents. I felt like an idiot waving my hands towards kids in rags staring up at me in awe from dirt streets. "What the heck? We should''ve sent an aid package before coming here."


    "You''d have shamed them, if you sent such a thing, Jack." Riegert counseled and smirked when I glared at him for being right. He was done up in a fancy new, bright tunic with my crest on it atop fresh, gleaming plate armor. He even had his hair cut short and beard trimmed, so he looked a decade younger. Now, I''m not angry that he''s getting all the attention, but having him look nice and tidy here just pointed out the fact he felt fine being a mess back home. "Besides, by showing up in force like this, we lend credence to your victories. We need to make sure no one doubts that the tales are true."


    "Subtlety is still worth considering." I grumbled at the center of a full military procession down the main street of a foreign nation''s capital. Over five hundred men were my official guards for this trip. Two hundred were heavy cavalry. Another two hundred were aerial cavalry overhead. Finally, all the heavy infantry were marching in blocks in gleaming plates and tunics, just like Riegert and carrying my banners. "At least tell me that this is the right move. The Wardens aren''t going to be pissed about this, right?"


    With the Guardians of the Moon out of the picture for the foreseeable future, and very unlikely to work with me once they''re back in action, the Wardens of the Caverns were a decent replacement for them. Relatively balanced tech tree, though a tad weak in the late game due to squishier units. They needed a lot of micro, so they were a pain to win with, because auto-battle gets too many of their troops killed. However, their economy was decent with a lot of metal-based strategic bonuses, and they were willing to trade and make alliances unlike the Children of the Elm.


    The problem was that they were the uptight paladins of the setting, skilled at diplomacy, but very against certain factions. Despite their preferred state of dress of tiny metal bikinis and speedos, and dark color scheme, this was the straight-laced, lawful-good faction. The Guardians of the Moon are more Neutral Good, willing to accept and compromise.


    Not these guys.


    Justice must be repaid with justice.


    Evil must be punished and taught to be better.


    Good boys and girls are rewarded.


    Bad boys and girls are punished.


    Yeah.


    The dark-skinned, white-haired faction wearing mostly metal swimwear, skintight silk, or cloaks and not!lacy-underthings beneath believes in punishing wrongdoers and treating good boys and girls very well. Some dev definitely had a fetish, and I wanted to shake his hand for going above and beyond for the game, but in reality, it was a pain.


    "They''re eyeing me up like I''m a piece of meat." I''ll be hitting 15 here. 14 came and went with all the hullabaloo at Academy. This should be general knowledge. One of my monikers was ''Boy King,'' after all. Still, I was getting eyes from a lot of angles. Now, because of my circumstances, I preferred ladies over young women, and the spirit is willing, but the thought of indulging myself with my current body made me dry heave. Maybe, if someone else got reincarnated into a younger body, they''d be fine going off their mental age and doing what they wanted at 15. Me? Bile was gathering at the back of my throat at the thought. "Are you sure these guys are as just and honorable as you say, if they''re looking that way at a child?"


    "¡­It''s a tad worrisome, but I see more admiration than lust." The fact that there''s lust in that crowd is weird as hell, already. My thoughts on the matter must''ve been apparent, since Riegert sighed. "Most of the ones looking at you as a man are close to your own age."


    If they''re younger than me, that''s just gross.


    If they''re technically the same age as me, it''s also gross.


    Maybe if they''re a couple years older than me. At least three. No, that adds up to eighteen. Augh. Going out with an 18-year-old when I''m mentally in my thirties? I think I''m going to hurl. Who knows? Maybe I''ll feel differently when I''m in my twenties and I get hit with a mental mid-life crisis and turn into a bigger degenerate. As of now, though, being surrounded by a fanservice faction and getting stared at like a piece of meat wasn''t at all appealing to me. Don''t talk to me unless you''re at least 24. Hell, that''s probably too young. Thirty? That''ll be weird for everyone involved.


    You know what, I''m just going to stop thinking.


    "And, you''ve decided to just ignore it all. You do know that''ll just entice those with confidence to go after you to prove their worth, right?"


    Ohmmmmm.


    Not thinking.


    Ohmmmmm.


    Not thinking.


    Ohmmmmm.


    "You''re going to learn how to deal with affection and seduction sooner rather than later, Jack."


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Can''t hear you, I''m the ultimate life form spinning through space just smiling and waving his hand at the crowd.


    ?


    Wavy, shoulder-length hair. Elbow-length gloves. Near-skintight-crop top. Side-tied lower-half robes with very tight shorts revealed by a very long slit along with a lot of leg. Big purple eyes accentuated with purple eyeliner. Pert lips highlighted by purple lipstick and white facial markings across the forehead instead of a crown.


    Ladies and gentlemen, the High Justiciar of the Wardens of the Caverns, Khalai the Merciful.


    Yes.


    The small, slender individual in a not!belly-dancer outfit is the Dark Elves'' King.


    Before you ask, it''s canon that he likes being stepped on, stepping on others, and will eventually have multiple lovers in the later years. He likes both men and women.


    And, no, you do not meet his standards, you mouth-breathing degenerate.


    Insert standard praise for the devs, here.


    "Well met, King of Wisdom. Your¡­ bodyguards have certainly made an impact on my city." Khalai the Merciful. Is a diplomacy-focused leader with bonuses towards cultural progress. Leave him alone, and you''re going to find posters of Dark Elves all over your town and your citizenry discontent that you''re not a tanned, toned twink with slender abs and a smoldering smirk. Yeah, you can''t compete if you let him snowball. Gotta correct him real quick via deep, penetrating strikes into his territory to keep him off-balance at all times. Insert more innuendos here. Seriously, the forums love this guy. "I fear that my people will forever wish that its your warriors in our streets and not mine."


    Despite the fact I was fifteen and he was closer to a hundred and fifty, I was already taller than him.


    I did my best to not recall the ''art'' seared into my brain regarding Khalia and the word ''imagine'' and gave him a small bow of respect.


    Believe or not, this guy''s got more art than Rita.


    I mean, it makes sense, since he''s got double the simps.


    Oh, right.


    Diplomacy.


    "You honor me with your praise. I had asked for a light guard, but I''m afraid my people insisted, especially with our disastrous relations with the Children of the Elm." I learned a bit about justifications from my teachers. Precedent and historical backing is important. An assassination attempt during a diplomatic meeting at my own home was a good explanation for my heavy guards. "I see that your town looks much like ours when it first began. We are more than happy to help a fellow believer in peace."


    I felt Riegert''s eyes on my back when I opened up with the trade offer right away, even before we entered past the Citadel''s walls, but I ignored him.


    The trade offer in that phrase wasn''t important.


    It was the fact I called the Wardens of the Caverns believers in peace, and the fact that I mentioned their offshoots. According to the lore, while the Children of the Elm were rampant park rangers, the Wardens of the Caverns were long-lived, highly-efficient miners and maintainers of much of the underground, Ancient constructions. They had to research living above ground, but the abundance of metals and trade goods that they had made up for that. Not only that, but their culture valued working with others, creating strong markets to sell to, and making sure everything''s nice and orderly.


    They know that making wrong moves can collapse whole tunnels and kill hundreds slowly and painfully due to their environment.


    Praising that part of their culture was sure to get brownie points.


    Oh, and so did reminding them I put down the faction that they hate the most.


    That''s probably worth a favor or twoooo¡ªand Khalai''s hooked his arm up with mine and put a hand on my chest to lead me towards his house.


    "Oh, let us leave the formalities for later. You and your soldiers should rest." Khalai gave a smile and leaned against my arm with his chest. I managed to cast a glance over my shoulder at Riegert. The damnable man who''d questioned me with his eyes earlier was now struggling to hold back laughter. Dammit. Whilst turning my gaze back forward, I spied one of my guards looking at me with envy from the corner of his eye. His friend right behind him was wide-eyed and struggling to hold back laughter. Someone didn''t read the mission file. "If you''re willing, Jacky, how about sharing a cup of tea with me before all the formalities?"


    Thank goodness, despite being accepting of this sort of thing, that I''m straight.


    Also, I had to suspend my moral sensibilities for a moment, because Khalai was going after somebody who was technically just 15. This world had fucked up views on adulthood, and that needed to be corrected. Hm, well, I guess 150 in Dark Elf years was just a bit past seventeen, but that''s beside the point.


    I wanted good relations and wasn''t interested, so I made the line in the sand as clear as possible without harming either of us.


    "My apologies, High Justiciar, but I must tend to my soldiers and I believe that our nations should come first." I gave a shake of my head and twisted my arm a bit. To Khalai''s credit, he took the cue instantly and disengaged and stopped the act. No pouting. No accentuation of the body. Just Khalai standing and listening to me in an instant after the rejection. You can''t have real, honest BDSM without consent! "Thank you for the offer. It is greatly appreciated, but I must refuse."


    Khalai, unlike Tira who instantly planned my death and overthrow after not being complimented on her beauty, nodded and withdrew cooly after my hopefully-subtle rejection.


    Sorry, king, but I''m a boring guy who only likes ladies.


    Specifically, in their late twenties and early thirties.


    Before anything happens, it''ll have to be ten years more for me, at the very least!


    "I see, then welcome to the Citadel of the Wardens of the Caverns, King of Wisdom." I referred to Khalai by his title and now he returned to referring to me by mine. He smiled and gestured at the gates, which opened immediately. The ring controlling the Citadel was right on his hand, which made that easy enough. The familiar Citadel rose high into the sky before me. Much of the lands surrounding it was empty, save for a plot of land which held a massive building of multiple stories and made obviously of the same material of the Tower. That''s their knowledge and production bonus for starting last. They knew what the Citadels can do and erecting structures between the Citadel and the outer walls was easy enough. "May your stay with us be pleasant, and may our people flourish together in these dark and troubled times."


    I gave the man a nod and moved forward, followed by my guards and Riegert.


    Everything was going well for now, but I was sure that wasn''t going to stay the case.


    3 years as the King of Wisdom, meaning twelve turns have passed, which meant that most wars were about to begin. Worse, the Academy was in play this time around. Their armies and banners will soon march to claim the continent as their own. The amount of blood that was going to be spilled in the next couple of years will threaten to drown the whole continent¡­ if I didn''t somehow stop them by making an alliance between me, the Conquerors, and the Wardens.


    If that didn''t deter the others, then at the very least, we''ll be able to end the wars quickly and decisively with the three of us working together.


    If, of course, I succeeded.

 V3: Chapter 2

    V3: Chapter 2


    Interlude: Riegert:


    ¡­


    Everything we passed by reminded me of times long past and I wasn''t alone.


    "Hard to believe that we lived like this just a few years ago, huh?" Oswald frowned at the sight of slums and the refuse that was in every direction. The roads were still slick with mud and sewers were yet to be. It was obvious that things were improving. These people just received their Citadel, and they were working on improving on it. The issue lay with us. We were used to far finer things nowadays. "Back then, it was normal to walk into towns like this one and have a bit of fun with the locals, especially the really willing ones."


    "Times change." Outposts of the Wardens were considered miracles for armies on the move. They were a good and honest lot, who traded great goods, and happily offered themselves to slake lusts, while also providing services for healing. Much of the men present now were beside themselves. We had to give them a stern talking to about staying in line, at least until they were off duty. "Make sure that not a single man takes advantage of anyone. If they do, make an example of them, Oswald. No exceptions. Not with our King''s guards."


    "I''ll beat them within an inch of their lives and have them dishonorably discharged, sir. Though, I imagine that most of the younger lads won''t even think about it. They look downright appalled at the thought of doing anything here." There were wagons collecting feces going around now, and alongside them were wagons filled with wood and iron to build homes. One collected waste and the other went to erect buildings. I saw only things that could be replaced by light rail and trolleys, or even mages that need practice. Everything seemed backwards, even though I knew it was anything but. These people were living very well compared to anyone else to the continent without a Citadel."


    "They''ve barely had two seasons to get this place up and running. They''re doing better than we did, Oswald." He grumbled, but the message seemed to ring clear enough in his mind. He knew as well as I did that our rise wasn''t that pretty. We contended with a whole disease outbreak in our early years, which would''ve been fatal to our cause without the Citadel. Judging the Wardens would only paint ourselves in a more ill light. "Instead of comparing, let''s help out. These people will make for fine allies. Or, at least, they''ll be fantastic trade partners."


    "Aye, sir, whatever you say." Oswald gave me some lip, but I just ignored him and looked around. The Wardens were rapidly speeding up. The foundation for an Academy was already present and soon the Residential Districts will be fully developed. Their population will flow forth from the caverns they called home and their numbers will be nothing to scoff at. Thanks to their defensible positions, even with all the terrors they faced below, they had bodies to spare. "I''ll think of a few things and say the boys came up with it, sure."


    I chuckled.


    "Yeah, that sounds good."


    We moved forward further into the city proper. After the small festival last night in greetings, our men were offered to visit the town and enjoy themselves. We decided to do it in batches, in order to maintain a security force, and create a patrolling force to keep our men in line. Leaving young men unsupervised in a foreign city with all their friends and money to spend? It was a recipe for disaster.


    It was a nice, growing city and didn''t deserve any of the hesitancy that we had.


    The issue was that we''ve grown used to the wonders of our Citadel and its surrounding city, which everyone else was trying to emulate. Ours was at the forefront and the very best of the world. Everything else paled in comparison, but we couldn''t allow that to cloud our vision and affect our relations with other people. It would not do to become like the Children of the Elm.


    I sighed and scratched my chin, before deciding on a course of action.


    "Well, I''m feeling parched." Oswald raised an eyebrow at the old phrase, but none of the new men with us knew the old tradition. Thank goodness that I''m their superior office and a Champion. They were eying me up and wondering what to do if decided to go against orders. Jack sure knew how to inspire loyalty. I suppose rallying your whole nation to fight against an oncoming apocalypse raises people''s loyalties quite a bit. "Let''s take a short break, spend some of our money, and get to know the locals, huh?"


    It''s an old trick our old war band used to get a good reputation, even when we let loose to blow off steam. The patrolling group would drum up a rapport by carousing, buying drinks and food for everyone from local businesses, and spend small fortunes on trinkets. Jack would say it''s just throwing money at the problem, but he''d approve it with a smile later. If something could be solved by money, then he believed it should. I''d worry about our finances if I didn''t have access to the books. Now, I looked for reasons to throw money around, too.


    With the amount we had, we were all but itching for a reason to throw money at something for the best outcome possible.


    ?


    Dammit, they''re all just out there spending my money.


    I mean, I knew that''s how the diplomatic action worked. Send your forces to someone that you have neutrality with and open borders, then you spend some gold to have your troops spend money. It''s a simple, non-descript bribe that everyone could use against the AI for increased reputation. It also cancelled out the fact that you had an army in their territory, so I encouraged it.


    Travelling without an army was an even worse idea, after all.


    Anyhow, while everyone else was outside of the Citadel, I was given a room in it along with my guards.


    I say room, but it''s actually a whole suite and the entire surrounding floor was for my guards. By all means, it was the very lap of luxury, though the fact remained that I was in enemy territory and they could change the whole structure to their advantage. They had me at their mercy, but with the number of troops I had in their city, it was basically just equalizing the situation.


    Initially, I thought that I''d use the room sparingly for the talks that I''d have with Khalai, but that didn''t prove to be the case.


    The Dark Elf King was lying down on the sofa reading one of the books I brought along for recreational purposes. The aforementioned leader of the Dark Elves was wearing a glossy nightie and matching shorts and with his hair down. I know this faction''s lewdness was inspired by anime, but this is ridiculous.


    Then, again, it wasn''t like he was being seductive.


    He was just being staggeringly informal.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Jackie, this book is no fun." A sigh left his lips and he let the book fall flat on his chest. I raised an eyebrow, while I kept reading from my book on the chair near the sofa. Why was I sitting so close if I wasn''t interested? It''s because that I''m uninterested that I can. If I was interested, I''d be on the other side of the room. "Don''t you have anything more pleasant to read?"


    "My apologies, Khalai, but I prefer to study when I have time to spare." I lied as easily as I breathed. This was just a way to pass the time. Though I could attend plays, or read fairy tales, neither interested me. Hosting feasts and tournaments came to mind, but both were too expensive for my taste. So, books of learning were my only option. Studying was my only option. It sucked. "Still, I suggest that you do the same. You cannot rely on your advisors for everything, otherwise you will only be a puppet."


    Like me with Khanrow and Riegert, though I preferred my position than actually being a leader. Much less stress.


    "But, sometimes, everything being a surprise is fun." Khalai spouted off innuendos as easily as he breathed. He wasn''t even aiming the insinuation my way or making eyes at me. He just stated the lewdness like fact. "Not only that, but sometimes being told what to do feels amazing."


    Is this what it feels like to have a promiscuous friend? I can''t say that I hate it, but it''s definitely not something I particularly like. I can easily imagine Khalai getting us both into hot water, because he decided to have some fun with a princess¡­ or a prince. The man''s a living hentai protagonist/main character, except in this world his dalliances will cause a lot more than a few comedic panels of repercussions.


    Still, even if that''s the cost of an alliance with the Wardens of the Caverns, it''d be worth it.


    "You are your own person, but you must understand you can no longer act solely for yourself. You are a servant of your people. They rely on you to be at your very best." Please don''t succumb what your body wants and get your nation and mine into hot water. Think with your brain, please. Become an industrial juggernaut with one of the best economies and cultural spread in the game, so that I have less work on my plate instead. Fornicating might be fun, but have you considered overwhelming endgame crisis armies with deathstacks? It''s even better. Straight? Gay? Bi? I like winning battles with so much overwhelming force that I break the game in half. That''s hot. "You will have many foes, even if you wish to extend your hand in peace. Thus, you must be prepared for war."


    "Hah, you always speak like one of the elders. The actual elders who are practically talking prunes." Khalai got up onto the edge of the sofa and stretched with a light moan. One of my guards stiffened up and started staring into nothing a thousand yards away. It''s a hard life, my guy. "But, I do see your point. I''ve lost the right to live solely for myself. Still, when I have time to spare, I can do better than reading musty manuscripts. Tea, please!"


    Khalai rang the bell at the table between the two of us and called for refreshments. I moved the book I lent him off the table onto my lap, while a servant bowed and walked towards the kitchen of my suite. There was a bit of hustle and bustle, but soon enough my chef and Khalai''s chef sent out a cart filled with the foods offered, which were quickly looked over by our respective mage-guards for poisons before being cleared for service.


    In other words, it was my time to start trying to increase the cultural spread of my lands.


    For now, it was the waiting and build up portion of the game. The pillars of a stable nation were its research income, standing military force, and positive economy. However, after you have all three, it''s easy to overextend by investing too much in one or the other since the T2 structures that improve them are very expensive and you need to improve your towns and villages into cities, first. T2 research or a T2 military without a T2 economy just bankrupts you. Trying to get T2 military or economy with T1 research is just begging to be out-teched. Finally, T2 economic buildings improve the output of regions, not just the capital, so cultivating population centers outside of the Citadel is the only way to get their full, intended output.


    Now, this was a recipe for a boring intermission between upgrades, right?


    Wrong.


    This is the time in the game when you go out to find events and get Influence, which comes through multiple ways. Winning battles against your opponents nets you fame in combat. Completing specific event chains gives you a constant stream of influence. Making sure your people have positive happiness modifiers is a great way of getting influence. If you have loads of it banked up and unspent, then you''ll affect the culture of other people, and their pops that are less happy than yours gives you influence. You can trade influence for boosts to your production, research, gold income, and strategic income, and with some leaders and perks, you can buy buildings and army units and Champions with sheer charisma alone.


    If Alexander the Great told you to join his army on the warpath, after all his victories, for glory and riches¡­ wouldn''t you?


    Anyway, while everything was building up back home, I was looking for allies, putting down enemies, succeeding at Events, and trying my best to boost culture.


    The best way to do that was via culinary delights.


    Win people through their stomach and make it clear that the food they''re eating is yours!


    "My, my this is quite the assortment of foods that I''ve never seen before." It was tea time, so I deployed my knowledge of cakes and pastries. As an American, I had access to a plethora of foods and I enjoyed a ludicrous amount. Food, games, and work, that was my life. The games helped me out for a bit, so why not the food too? "Ah, these mini-cakes are fantastic!"


    Higher culinary arts are still in the process of being figured out by the chefs and pastry makers, but little leaps forward like certain flavor combos and mini-versions was good enough for now.


    Cupcakes at tea-time, though, were sure to be a hit.


    "I''m glad that you like it. I made it whilst wondering how to give more to the people. Little pleasantries such as this improve lives." I lied once again and with a smile. I didn''t make this. That story is wholly made up. But that didn''t matter. That was true in this world. The King of Wisdom made cakes smaller for his subjects to enjoy. Perfection. I wiped frosting off of Khalia''s mouth with a napkin, before serving myself. "Help yourself, Khalai. There''s plenty to enjoy."


    For a few minutes, I enjoyed the cupcakes and tea, before the High Justiciar spoke once again.


    "Jackie, you''re making it very difficult to not flirt with you."


    Huh!?


    How!?


    I''m literally treating you like my younger cousins!


    Don''t¡­ don''t tell me that you guys are THAT perverse!?


    Who am I kidding, they probably are!

 V3: Chapter 3

    V3: Chapter 3


    ¡­


    I''ll admit it.


    I''m uncultured.


    I went to one or two art museums in my former life, and I went to an art exhibit or two, but that''s about it. Concerts? State fairs? Cultural enrichment opportunities? I''m sorry, but have you ever spent a lot of time building an army and watched it crush your enemies. It''s fantastic. Not only that, but there''s a plethora of other games to enjoy, and besides them, loads of funny video and great books.


    Culture, as far as I was concerned, was just an excuse to sell and buy things for egregious amounts of money and not get taxed.


    I''m still fairly convinced that''s the case now, so the thought of plucking some talents off the gutter and having them paint didn''t appeal to me.


    So, I decided to go with food as a method of engaging with foreign populations first, but that wasn''t enough. Winning on the field of battle was also a good method, but I didn''t have any units in queue to replace my losses. Not having reinforcements on route was just asking for trouble, especially across the continent, so I wasn''t going to go out and farm neutral mobs for fame in the Warden''s territory. That meant that I needed to find other vectors for cultural gains to augment my supply of Influence.


    Off the top of my head, fashion had the most initial appeal, but I didn''t know jack shit about weaving cloth, let alone tailoring clothes. The Citadels could produce clothes, but that was a waste of their fabricators. I could have armor, weapons, near-unbreakable tools, and even manufacturing equipment like lathes made in Ancient Alloys to augment my population''s ability to produce. Even if I could produce tons of fabrics and clothes, they''d just be a waste of time and money because of opportunity cost.


    Therefore, fashion was out of the question and so was art, therefore the only thing I had left was theatre.


    And, since I already had a whole theatre and circus district, it was easy enough to invest in them and tell them to spread and share their stories across the continent.


    It was a poor attempt at Hollywood, but one where the actors and actresses were professional assassins.


    I thought that the professional assassin part would make it near impossible for other nations to accept them, but it turned out I was wrong.


    As long as they''re attractive and entertaining, people will ignore the fact that they''re looking at trained killers.


    I really wished that I was surprised by that revelation.


    What kind of ally can you never afford to turn down when you''re starting out?


    The answer, naturally, is an ally that provides increased rates of production and increased rates of food. Even if you have to pay what little you have in your treasury for both, a boost in population growth and your production rate is something that you can''t afford to ignore. Being able to get population capacity up, getting walls finished, and getting a barracks and a stable, that''s how you deal with being the last person to get their Citadel in the game.


    I''ve hotseated into enough multiplayer matches to know that you need to swallow your pride an accept whatever anyone else is willing to give you, if you''ve got the last faction seat and the last Citadel.


    Thankfully, the logic was holding true with the Wardens of the Caverns, even if their build order was more thematic than practical.


    "A temple right away? I can''t say I agree with your choices, but your people seem happy enough." Where Khalai got a nun costume, I didn''t know. And, if anyone asked, I also didn''t know why the slit that travelled up the long skirt showed off a leg covered in fishnet and a garter. I do my best to keep my eyes up the Dark Elf King''s neckline, thank you very much. After our first few weeks together, I''ve mastered the art of being as cool as ice around him to make things a lot less complicated. "Your people are more pious than I though."


    "In the depths, faith is one of the few luxuries that my people can afford." A weird statement for the faction that gets at least one gold for every tile and two for every tile with the rough terrain modifier, but I guess you haven''t gotten those researched yet and it wasn''t in play below the earth. Don''t worry, dude, even the merchant faction barely manage to match you guys economically. "It is not only a monument of culture and faith, but a beacon of a our ways and customs and nearly-lost skills. It is where paladins are born."


    "I see." That''s what I said, but I was doing my best not to see, as we ascended the stairs. The paladins were in tiny metal bikinis or speedos, while gold paint and runes shone on their dark skin. They were creatures of virtue, who''d fight for the weak, the innocent, and sick, but their list of virtues conspicuously didn''t include chastity. Fidelity was there, but it was more being open about now lying about the number of relationships they have and how many children they''ve got. Protectors and guardians of life? There''s a line between that and fetishism, you know? "If such is the case, then I''m glad to have helped."


    "Rest assured that we have honored your desire to see our people lifted out of squalor. This was entirely our own project. Your workers and supplies are already swiftly building the blessed housing for our people." After generations spent in the underground, I guess even tenements would seem like a blessing, as long as there was a single window in each unit. In truth, I wouldn''t be able to live in one of the apartment units I was having made now. The amenities were all public in nature, so the kitchen, baths, and even toilets were shared amongst all the families that lived in the building. It was one restroom and one kitchen and one storeroom for four families of four, up to twenty people, and even with common rooms it was a tight squeeze. I''d never live in one if given the choice, I''d take a wagon in the open field, but that'' just me. For most people in this world, it was a massive improvement over old standards. "We will be relying on you for protection, though."


    "That''s why I''m here." It was an old tactic from back home. The tripwire system the US had everywhere with their bases, which was pretty much the same as establishing new international borders. My troops and I are here and working with these guys. If someone comes along to invade or fuck around with the Wardens, we can easily say that they were threatening me and risking my life. It wasn''t as overt as telling the Guardians of the Moon that I''m not letting them invade the Conquerors, but implying things has always been more acceptable than declaring things. "You don''t need to worry about that until I leave."


    "And, when will that be, my humble guardian?" Khalai pouted and did that thing where he leaned forward to make his puppy-dog eyes and lashes look cuter. He only grinned when I glared him down and got up and held out his half-gloved hands as if free of guilt. This man lives and breathes cuteness. The worst part is that he knows it. Nothing is worse than an attractive person that knows they''re attractive and more so than most. They''re the real 1% of life, because they can literally get rich people to fall for them and take half their shit. Well, if I wasn''t part of the 1% in this life, I''d cheer Khalai on and root for him, but here I had to worry about him having such a messy breakup that the continent goes to war with itself. Helen of Troy has nothing on this Dark Elf King in terms of potential tragedy generation. The guy''s a loose nuke waiting to happen on foreign relations. "Can''t you stay with us forever?"


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "No."


    "Rejected right on the steps of the temple. How cruel!"


    "Nuns aren''t even supposed to get married!"


    "Your nuns perhaps, but in my culture they''re married to everyone."


    "That''s information I would''ve rather not known."


    Note to self: don''t walk into the confessional booths, just in case.


    Interlude: Rita.


    "Are you sure?" Ghor Khanrow looked upon me. The man who chose Jack as a figurehead and king of the Citadel while he ruled from the shadows. When I first met him, I thought him an enemy, but now he was my teacher. Just as he was Jack''s teacher. "If you make a mistake, you''ll send a warning to our true target."


    I was at the very heart of the Citadel. On innumerable magic screens, I could see the villages built around the Citadel''s watchtowers. More importantly, though, I looked down onto the entire city from the great height of the Citadel itself. Its eyes were better than any mortals, and it allowed me to search for my quarry.


    A spy from the Academy.


    "This one calls himself Tyron and arrived with a recent batch of immigrants." Jack had the borders carefully watched. Many spies and potential issues were undone by the necessity of identification, which could only be procured in frontier towns or border outposts dedicated to processing those who wished to live in our lands. This careful system was meant solely to slow the tide, and ensure that those coming wouldn''t fall through the cracks and be left without purpose and use, in our king''s own words. However, it also provided great security to our people. Even forged means of identification or stolen ones could be tracked, especially for positions of import. "He has attempted to gain access to eight separate institutions, including both the Officer''s Academy and the University and showcased skills such as arithmancy, writing, and more."


    "Or, he could simply be a desperate man trying to gain gainful employment after leaving the Academy lands. Has he tried to make contact with other suspects? What are his habits?" Khanrow placed a hand on the magical mirror that tracked the man and pressed the left side of the mirror. Instantly it showed its memories of the man, days and nights going in reverse, until we reached the man''s entry into the city. "Have you reviewed his entire stay here? Even if his identification is forged, if he''s making no contact with the Academy, he may very well be an asset trying to stay unknown to his former friends."


    "Or, he could be an asset meant to be recruited later and relied upon independently for now." Khanrow acknowledged my point with a nod, but I stated that answer to make the hole in his argument clear. However, it was unnecessary. I pressed the right side of the magical mirror and carefully watched the angle of the sun as time passed. Then, there came the moment I found. Then, another. And, another. I placed each one on separate mirrors by pinching the visions and flicking them at other mirrors, whose displayed the still vision of those separate moments. "Here. Different locations, but thrice over, with someone who arrived three months earlier and began working as a clerk with a merchant. A merchant that I have investigated and whose main home is located near the Conqueror''s border gate with the Academy, which remains functional."


    Khanrow''s judgement was swift.


    "Well done, you''ve identified him as a spy. Now what''s next?"


    My answer was ready.


    "I suggest a posting in the Officer Academy and carefully feed him incorrect and correct information. Any crucial information to the war effort will be incorrect, of course."


    "Soldiers can die from the smallest bits of truth known of them by their enemies. Are you willing to take that risk?"


    "Yes. Less will die if the enemy blunders on the strategic scale. Tactical losses will be acceptable."


    "And, the blood of these men who were sacrificed?"


    "They''re on my hands. Not the enemy''s."


    Khanrow was quiet for a long time, before nodding once more. This time was much more decisive.


    "With that in mind, do you believe this patsy is worth taking that risk for? Do you believe that he should be cultivated to our ends?" Hesitation meant defeat, but I still took care to consider the information. I looked back on the man. He did not evade the watchful eye of our Citadel, but he was also tracked by my subordinates on the ground. This man could very well be a lure or a distraction¡­ and I could be sacrificing lives in a futile fashion.


    It was an unacceptable risk.


    Even though I felt shame build up in the back of my throat, I shook my head.


    "No. He''s too unskilled and most likely to be useless to us, if he cannot evade our eyes on the ground and left so much to be learned so easily." I could not allow my pride to overtake my knowledge and my instinct. After Khanrow''s words, I looked again, and saw my previous answer lacking. So I withdrew it. That''s all that happened. It''s better to make this mistake and wound my pride than lose soldiers for no reason at all. "I retract my previous statement. He can be of use, but not in the capacity I pronounced earlier. It''s better to see him struggle and continue to find locations which the Academy wants to infiltrate."


    Khanrow was silent, this time for much longer than he ever was in my presence, but in the end he nodded again.


    "You pass. Barely. You''ll keep working with me and improving. The critical lesson here was to never let your pride get in the way of retreat or choosing another path." He grunted and the veneer of a wise mentor fell away to his usual gruffness and apathy. He looked at the target that I''d watched for days and studied and advised upon and shook his head. "Have him killed, along with the clerk hired by the merchant, and have the merchant interrogated. Remember this: we deal with the cruelty that needs to be done. Nothing more, but nothing less, for the sake of keeping this nation safe. Understood?"


    "Understood."


    As much as I disliked the man, and how he could override the decisions made by my king, I could not deny that he did his duty well¡­ and that my king needed him.


    Still, time will pass and this man will die, and I can replace him thereafter as a true, loyal subject.

 V3: Chapter 4:

    V3: Chapter 4:


    ?


    Magic is real.


    The soul exists.


    People can come back to life.


    Three things that I knew intrinsically and completely, even if the end of my previous life wasn''t all too clear for me.


    So, having experienced it myself, I was able to keep up a poker face while the Wardens of the Caverns brought a Champion back to life via their Faction-Specific Building: The Temple of Light. Pretty generic name, and the temple itself looked like any regular fantasy church with pews, marble floors and pillars, and stained glass. If not for all the Dark Elf priests and nuns looking ripped straight out of a fetish book, the environment was painfully generic as was its purpose.


    Here, the Wardens of the Caverns, were able to bring their dead back to life.


    In the first tier of the Temple, they can bring back their Champions once every five turns without cost, besides the EXP in the tank vanishing..


    In the second tier, the Temple will be surrounded smaller shrines, and now if you lose four units in battle you''ll get on back for free with veterancy back home. Champions can come back every three turns without cost, and they retain all EXP from the battle they died in and any unused.


    In the third tier, it''ll become a Cathedral surrounded by massive churches and stretch into the sky, and every two units lost will give you one back with cumulative veterancy added. Champions get a one turn respawn cooldown, get bonus EXP when they revive, and maybe a boost to all their stats.


    Then, finally, if you finish the Warden''s questlines, it''ll become the Gate of Light. All units will return after death at your capital. Champions can resurrect to full health at every battle once, and if they die twice they can come back the same turn they die at your capital. Not only that, but you gain access to all units lost by other factions and you can hire them for your literal holy, immortal, and undying army, so that they can help you ascend everyone to paradise and leave the mortal world behind.


    That''s right.


    The most fetishistic faction in this game literally doms the world and the aftercare is an eternity in paradise.


    The whole world and all its problems are given the middle finger, while all the mortal races just sprint towards the gates and are happily let in.


    Yeah.


    I think I said it before, but I''ll say it again.


    The only people you can keep as permanent allies up to your own faction''s ending are the Guardians of the Moon and the Conquerors of the Desert.


    The Wardens of the Caverns, as nice and pleasant and good they might be, are all working under the correct belief that they can escort you to paradise¡­ or kill you and apologize when you open your eyes in Heaven.


    Yeah.


    There''s now way they''ll accept any other Faction''s ending.


    So, yeah, I need to sabotage their endgame superweapon and make sure I can beat them at the end.


    No big deal.


    Just allying with someone with the intention of ripping literally paradise out of their hands later.


    Feeling cute.


    Might literally trap a whole race of religious fanatics to the mortal coil, instead of allowing them to go on a crusade/holy war and force everyone to go to heaven.


    Yeah.


    I''d rather that sort of thing be someone''s choice, rather than forced on them via the end of a knife by people who can''t die with good intentions. There''s probably loads of people who''ll tell me that I shouldn''t take that away from them, that forcing paradise on others through jihad is acceptable, but I''ll go ahead and say this: I know for a fact that no other faction in this world will lay down and die. Until the very fucking end, there is an organized resistance against the Warden''s endgame, until they all slit their own throats one last time and leave the planet along with everyone else.


    So, yeah.


    We''re both in horribly dubious circumstances morally, and we''re both convinced we''re right in our beliefs about what other people want.


    The same as usual for this world, ever since my rebirth, honestly.


    ?


    "I see that you''ve looked at the wonder of resurrection and found it lacking, Jack."


    "I saw that we and the Wardens will come to blows at the end of this all. They''ll never stop. There''s no convincing them of any other path than that they follow." I addressed Riegert with a sight. On the pretense of wanting to practice horseback riding, I went out with him and my guards for the day. Khalai had pouted and said he''d wanted to come along and ride along with me. It was simple enough to make him not interested by offering him another horse. When the situation veered away from the chance to either hug and press against my back, or drive his behind against my crotch whilst wearing very tight leather pants, he lost interest. Yeah, I was getting used to the very forward High Justiciar. "It''s very unfortunate."


    "¡­Alright, I''ll bite. You''ve terrified me enough to ask: why?" Riegert carried a new axe over his shoulder. It was blue-gear, so I didn''t bother with the name. Purples and above are worth remembering, because they have special properties. Anything below are just stat sticks. Useful, but not that important. Riegert being a bruiser and being geared enough for mid-game was good, though. I can probably count on him to hold back Crusher for a few minutes and not die. Seven minutes tops, though. "You''ve been doing everything to get on their good side and they''ve been receptive. You''re fortunate that you''re solely interested in ladies, and the fact that their High Justiciar doesn''t have a daughter or sister as¡­ eccentric¡­ as he is."


    Khalai''s personality in a taller, female form?


    I mean, if that theoretical person was as promiscuous as him¡­


    Not marriage material, but I wouldn''t be much of a man if I said I wasn''t intrigued with experiencing all that ''experience'' firsthand.


    Sometimes, a man must understand his limits.


    But enough with those thoughts.


    "Glad to see you''re back."


    I ignored Riegert''s comment.


    "They are fanatics. Zealous to the extreme. They are truly kind and good people, but that goodness and kindness will drive them to unspeakable things in the name of justice and righteousness. They will not falter, they will not surrender, and they will not break. The stories and rumors are all true." These guys have nigh-unbreakable morale. With a few upgrades and the right Champions, and a positive happiness value, their units are guaranteed to stay in battle. They might retreat and panic, but they won''t rout. Since they lived most of their lives underground, this was just hearsay for most people, but I saw the guides and verified things with my own eyes. "Riegert, if they knew that they can give everyone in the world the paradise those they resurrect speak of, they''ll slit all our throats with smiles one their faces."


    "¡­Are you sure?" Riegert looked down at me from his horse. Worry was clear on his face. The time long passed when we''d tiptoe and worry about appearances with one another. "You know that I''ll be telling Ghor all of this, right? You know what he''ll do. These people will be made miserable. Tragedy after tragedy will be inflicted upon them. Khalai will die, if Khanrow can find a way to do it¡­ and he will."


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "I am sure, but Khanrow needs only to sow the seeds. We need them now. Their strength, their will, and their ability. All of it. We need everyone against what is to come. But, unlike the Guardians and the Conquerors, the Wardens cannot be reasoned with and brought truly into the fold." They won or they lost. All or nothing. For the Wardens, it was a zero-sum game. They either succeed in ramping up enough to roll the world over with resurrected army after army and kill everyone to send them to paradise, or they''re wiped off of the face of the planet as a culture and maybe as a species. Thousands of years in the darkness, relying on each other, praying to the Light, and seeing their own dead brought back to preach to them of what lay beyond¡­ "Their war is a holy one. One that we can direct and use for now, but in the future we must confront it. When we do¡­ it must be us to first betray them, to first slip the knife between their ribs, and the first to crush them completely. Until then, we keep them close."


    Riegert was quiet for a long time, and I idly wondered what would happen as we travelled alone together on our horses through the woods, where I was completely at his mercy.


    I hoped that the trust I placed in him wasn''t misplaced and that he didn''t harbor any ties with the people who''d been kind and courteous and good to him for weeks on end.


    Eventually, he sighed and shook his head.


    "I''ll look into things and get a feel for the place. This sort of thing will need two pairs of eyes on it, at least." Trust but verify. That was something that I could get behind. I nodded and Riegert let loose another sigh, but this time it was more confident. "Hopefully, you''re wrong and we can trust these people, kid. I hope you don''t mind me saying that."


    "I wouldn''t mind being wrong." I agreed, but held back from saying anything more.


    At the very least, we''ll need to stop the Resurrection Gate from being made, by curtailing their efforts to make it. Or, to take their Faction-specific victory condition away, we''ll need to destroy it.


    Either obstruction or destruction, which they''ll see as betrayal of the highest order.


    Like I said, I wouldn''t mind being wrong. Being wrong meant managing to diplomatically settle the issue, getting the infinite lives cheat code for everyone, and rolling over all the continent''s issues.


    Yeah, I wouldn''t mind being wrong at all.


    ?


    Interlude: Khalai


    ?


    The reality that we know is a fa?ade.


    We are all bound to the mortal coil and we all suffer, because we have lost our way. In the midst of the carnage and horrors wrought by the calamities that brought the Ancient low, we all become mortal. Our lives, which once flowed from transient and intransient in perpetuity, became trapped in an endless purgatory.


    A long, long time ago, our bodies and flesh were merely vessels.


    Things which could be exchanged much like clothes or jewelry.


    Our souls were free of any prison, capable of entering heaven in the evening, spending eons in other places and other times made by the mind alone, and descending into a new form in the morning.


    We, all of us, were the Ancients.


    But the calamity trapped us all in our new bodies. Bodies with instincts and desires separate from our souls. Bodies which stop us from achieving everything that we desire. Bodies which stop us from understanding one another because we can no longer experience the lives of others. Bodies that imprison us completely and utterly. Bodies which may even be broken to the point where our souls are released into the aether to never reach paradise.


    Some believe that we are in hell instead of purgatory, but I do not agree.


    If we were being eternally punished, there would be no chance for us to escape it.


    No.


    Eternity looms ahead of us.


    We must simply reach out and endure all that we must to achieve it.


    "High Justiciar, the physicians and healers have confirmed I am well and ready to return." The foremost of all our Paladins in the last five hundred years stood at the ready. Kneeling and clad in nothing more than her burial shawl, Saintes Sirena the Just lived once more. "I will defend these lands of the Wardens with every life I am given, in accordance to my oath."


    "Stand and accept these from the forges of our ancestors." I turned to her and gave her a deep bow. Her height was twice that of mine. Already her body was aglow with faint white blessings. Her faith and power was so strong that they returned to her the moment of her resurrection. "Your faith and skill is strong, but much will be asked of you. I pray that these holy implements will protect you."


    "I shall show my gratitude through virtuous deeds, High Justiciar." The shawl fell away as she took the armor. Hers was a blessed and beautiful form. Golden hair, full-bodied, and strong, she would look like a divine warrior on the battlefield even without her armor. Though we worked in the darkness, our bodies were made beautiful. Our past selves saw fit to ensure that we and our faraway cousins were unmatched in beauty, although we shared it whereas our foolish kin chose to withhold it and punish all who dared take a singular glance. "These arms and armor shall be used righteously. This I swear upon my own name."


    I looked out the great window of the Warden''s Citadel upon which the hopes and dreams of my people lay.


    Many others have already arisen, another has even fallen, and many will look upon us as the weakest of them all.


    Trapped in our bodies, trapped in this mortal coil, madness has threatened to overtake us. Bloodshed and violence have both replaced peace and understanding. While some, like Jack, have chosen the righteous path... others have not. The Academy holds the center of the continent, they struggle to retain power, and in doing so they aim to curtail the freedom that this world entire deserves. The Conquerors seek to dominate the whole continent and enforce discipline across the land. The Guardians of the Moon reach for the past, but for the wrong goal.


    We were blessed with an ally such as the King of Wisdom who sought to alleviate suffering, to fight against oppressors, and to create allies instead of foes.


    But miracles should never be taken for granted.


    "Then, Saintess, you will go forth and scour the lands of monsters and find all that has been left behind." The path was clear. I will follow in the footsteps of other, whilst not making the same mistakes as them. Whatever shame might befall me for my path, I will endure, because I will not suffer any failure that could be avoided by bowing my head. "You will do this under the command of the King of Wisdom, and if you can, ensure that his nation and ours are bound completely."


    The blush that formed on the Saintess''s face, who devoted herself to war in all her lives, told me I chose correctly.


    Jackie will surely struggle against someone like her.


    A mind and soul filled with virtue, yet a form that inspired lust?


    He will surely struggle, regardless of all the beauties that surrounded him, and if he succumbs¡­ the path forward will be made more clear and less suffering will be required of my people.

 V3: Chapter 5:

    V3: Chapter 5:


    ?


    My eye twitched.


    "Is something wrong, your majesty?" Saintess Sirena stepped forward at the lightest sign of displeasure on my face, as I walked with her through the Citadel. The Dark Elf Champion had tone and curves and height that women would kill for and men would go to war over. Her outfit was straight off of a heavy metal album cover when they were in their fantasy phase. Armored legs and arms, but everything on the torso was covered by metal plates and chains that were borderline jewelry instead of skimpy bikini. Tanned skin, lightly adorned with slightly aglow with magical symbols that led the eyes towards certain area, was barely covered by the ''armor bikini.'' "You seem displeased."


    If any god out there is listening, I want the pervert who designed this Champion to stub his pinky toe, then I want him to get a bonus and a raise.


    "Ah, I''m simply tired. It was a long evening, especially after a hunt."


    "I see. If there is anything I can do to help, please inform me." Saintess Sirena bowed. A perfect, formal one that bent her back from the waist, which also let her long, straight golden hair part around hips. With how tiny the metal strings were around the front¡­ yeah, all the guards pat her were now looking at the roof or the floor. I couldn''t blame them. I was struggling to stare straight past her. Hell, even looking at her straight in the eyes while seated at the table was difficult, since I had no choice but to look past twin peaks and past a narrow, strained zipline between them. Yes, I''ve been clenching my leg muscles continuously for the last twenty minutes and thinking of dead, cute animals. "You need only ask as an honored guest and ally of my people."


    "If anything, you should be the one resting. I can only imagine returning from the dead would at least warrant a day or so of rest." I evaded the question as best as I was able. Not only that, but I was debating on doing air-sits and counted prime numbers. Nothing like math and muscle fatigue to absolutely drain your desires. Oh, goodness, she''s crossing her arms and propping them up and pouting at the same time. People actually do that here. "Or, perhaps, you would like to explore the new city of your people outside? All I''ll be doing today is going over reports and giving orders via courier from my room."


    At least take a fifteen-minute break, so that me and my guards can take a break and solve our current issues, before you come back.


    "Nay, that is not necessary. I have been ordered by the High Justiciar to watch over you, especially as many foes have begun rearing their heads at our borders and threats abound. It is in your service and yours alone that I will aid my people." Man, she''s really playing up the honorable knight archetype. Stop giving me those puppy-dog eyes. It''s confusing how you''re so pure and seductive at the same time! "Please, consider me as one of your own guards and assistants. Whatever you need, I shall provide."


    God bless the developers of this game.


    I mean, uhhh, damn them to heck for forcing me to resist the conniving temptations of their lewd creations!


    Man, that doesn''t even sound true in my head.


    "Then, I would like for you to go out and about and relay to me the circumstances of your people. I would very much like to learn more of the Wardens, but I have myriad duties to attend." I wracked my brain and came up with my most persuasive argument. It sounded like a parent trying to manipulate their kid into doing something by wording it differently. However, unlike a parent, I had a reputation to back my words. I am the ''King of Wisdom'' who asks strange things of people, but whose inquiries always results in good outcomes. So, it should work. Right? "What do you say¡ª


    "Then, it shall be done. I will go now. Please, excuse me and forgive my earlier impertinence." Sirena took a knee and bowed her head. Thankfully, the position covered more of her than when she was standing. I was able to look straight at her without issue. "I will relay to you the state of my people, so that we might become better allies in the future."


    And, with that said, she stood, turned, and left.


    Every step was a sashay that made her thigh-length hair reveal the tiniest of strings that composed the backside of her ''armor'' around her waist area.


    Toned, tanned back, interested me more though.


    Why yes, I am very interested in women who can kill me with their bare hands.


    It''s very hot.


    Anyway, once the doors closed behind Sirena, I felt all my guards'' stares go my way.


    Their desire for permission to woo the lady was immense, so I had to drop some lore on them.


    "Saintesses such as Sirena live solely for the sake of her people. That is to say, she has been instructed to seduce me, therefore any measure that could possibly stop her from doing so shall be met with lethal force." I wished that I was making this up, but this was the lore. The Warden''s special frontline Champions were a bunch of hentai rpgmaker protagonists, but ones that never lose, because of a pervert in control of their destiny, and always get their happy ending. I didn''t know whether to applaud the devs for sticking the middle finger up to NTR and all the other trash tags, or applaud them for being so cultured. Hm? No, I''d never boo them. They''re amazing. "I suggest that you all find fine¡­ friends¡­ amongst the common populace or visit their temple to clear your minds, if she entrances you so. Only pain and suffering awaits you in pursuit of her."


    Many of my knights/guards looked to one another and nodded, but there was one that raised his hand.


    I perceived his question instantly.


    "No, you will not find pleasure in the act. No, your final moments will not be looking straight up while she crushes your face with her foot."


    The man lowered his hand, his fellows stared at him, but he shrugged off their stares.


    A few looked my way in worry, so I had to explain.


    "If you all need to be reminded, I was born and raised in a wagon train following a warband. Nothing any of you all wish for is unknown to me. I abstain from any such thing, because I know its dangers as a commander and leader."


    That got another round of nods from my guards, and they started leaving in pairs to get what they needed to do done in the privacy of their own rooms.


    Or, maybe, with one of the willing servants and individuals in the Citadel.


    "Be careful around the Wardens, lads. Protect your virtue and lineage with great care."


    With that final phrase, I washed my hands of the situation and turned back to my reports.


    Ah.


    Back to reading about how my numbers are going up.


    Always a great way to pass the time.


    And, ignoring the fact that I''ll need to have her killed without a trace.


    Yeah.


    That kills anything even vaguely arousing about this situation.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    "So, the Undead Elf is too loyal."


    "Indeed. Almost blinded by it." I sat in a small shop on the corner of a street. In my hands were sheets of paper detailing the events of the day. I''d thought it a waste of valuable time to have the Citadel fabricate a means to mass produce paper and ink presses, but in every direction I saw many people engrossed in reading and learning and learning how to read. It was a satisfying sight. "Have you tried these?"


    "Ah, the King of Wisdom''s star confections. A luxury undone and made for the masses." Gilbert gave a low chuckle as I pressed the plate his way. Like many others, he wore a buttoned shirt, a jacket, and a pair of trousers. Clothes once reserved for the nobility and merchants who could afford to emulate the fineries of the ancients. Now, such were the garments of common folk, and the markets were hungry for them in other nations. "I can barely believe that he does not rule alone."


    Gilbert had messy and oily hair, a gaunt complexion, and sunken eyes. He sat hunched in his chair with his hair parted to one side. His nose was sharp and so was his chin. It was all an act. He made himself smaller, hid his frame in baggy clothes, and none would think that he could kill and move with startling speed and precision with his hands alone. He wore gloves to hide the size and calluses on his fingers, as well as the burns that would leave his mark for mages to find.


    Thomas trained his son very well.


    "In truth, we were fortunate. We found everything we needed moments after shattering a single warband. He was first a figurehead, but most of his renown he earned by his own merit." Gilbert keenly observed the simple delicacy. Cakes were reserved for nobility. Most children were lucky to afford a small bit of sugar for butter and bread for most of their lives. Yet, now, the masses could eat it as they pleased within reason. Sugar was the best spice we could produce from our Citadels, and soon we wouldn''t have to. "All that he took while being dragged across the continent, all that he stole and read and learned, led us here."


    "Careful, teacher, you sound optimistic." Gilbert leered, and a passing woman walked a bit faster. His smile didn''t so much as twitch. He was accomplishing his mission and acting the part of a freak in public. An undesirable who many would cast a blind eye too and ignore. Not dangerous enough to report, but one that couldn''t be observed for long. And, if he was observed for long, he could unmake his current disguise with a bottle or barrel of water. The paleness, the dark hair, and even the purplish bags beneath the eyes can all disappear in an instant. A change in stature and clothes would make him another person entirely¡­ to the point where even the eyes of a Citadel would be fooled. "You wouldn''t wish to cloud your judgement, no?"


    "And, you wouldn''t wish to think yourself too clever. Be more aware that many thieves have been caught thinking they''re beyond being caught." I huffed and Gilbert gave a sickly smile. However, his right eye twitched ever so slightly. I gestured at it with a finger, and it was corrected. Such little facial expressions could be the end of one of us. "You''re training Rita well enough, though. Does she suspect anything?"


    "She''s no spy, but an assassin and an investigator most certainly. She''ll never think to betray her king, even if it means a greater victory. Her loyalty isn''t to the nation, but to Jack."


    "As I told you it was."


    "That doesn''t lessen the challenge in the slightest."


    "Rise to it."


    "Feh." Gilbert turned away from me, and I tested him. His magical disguise did not waver, and the water I spilled onto the table was intercepted by a handkerchief he placed there by slight of hand. It didn''t seem as though he paused from sipping his tea. "That was low."


    "As is everything in our profession."


    Gilbert glared my way, when he would usually roll his eyes and sigh, which I chalked up to another success on Thomas'' part. This young lad mastered his body to the expectations required of him. I had confidence in his physical abilities, though I wouldn''t hesitate to test him.


    He caught me nine times out of ten while observing him training Rita.


    The last portion will come from experience.


    "Then, I''ll be going on my way back to Warden lands." Jack''s method of quickly moving key assets via winged courier was exceptional for our line of work. Weeks of travel time cut down to mere days. Hours, even, if one was willing to ride through the night. I would be across the continent in three days, rested in one, and working on discerning the truth of the Wardens on the fifth. "You will need to learn how to fight using the new weapons. It''s quickly becoming critical in our line of work. The shortened ones, especially."


    "They are frightening tools. A bit loud, though."


    "Name another weapon that can allow you to escape an altercation with a Conqueror, which you can hide in a jacket."


    "None come to mind." Gilbert rose and offered me his arm. I took it and gingerly feigned being an elder being aided by his grandson. The few that stared at Gilbert because of suspicion looked away, admonishing themselves for judging a good grandson for his looks alone. A well-executed act. "Though, if one cannot aim it right, or have not maintained it properly, they''re in for a nasty surprise."


    "Such things are a matter of the user and the tool, so I trust that you will be capable of it."


    "My life is on the line."


    "Good answer."


    I nodded and we reached an alley. A press against one of the bricks and a combination of knocks gave us entry through a false wall. Gilbert straightened and dispelled his magic. Broad of shoulders and of great height when not slouched, Gilbert the son of Thomas the Strong stood before me unmatched. My choice of freeing that man and instructing him to train his son in my methods rewarded me. Here before me was a son with Thomas'' sense of duty, his build, and a mind that was trained from birth and not allowed to go to waste.


    He can hide amongst commoners, servants, and play the part of an academic assistant, while also crush a man''s throat with one hand or fight off a beast with both.


    Very useful skills in our profession.


    "Lord Khanrow, I won''t fail you. Have a safe trip." He bowed with his words, while I straightened and gave him a nod. "Be sure to tell the King of Wisdom that I''m a friend, before you decide to vanish. I''d rather live."


    I gave the grown man a chuckle before knocking on the floor with another combination and nodding at my waiting assistant below the streets.


    "Make sure to practice your disguise of me. You may fool Rita, and Riegert may already know, but Jack will most certainly see through you."


    Before he could get another word in, I descended into the tunnels below.


    All the young ones needed a little adversity to keep them ready for the trials to come.

 V3: Chapter 6:

    V3: Chapter 6:


    ?


    I have a bad habit of laying the ground work for things and just clicking the ''next turn'' button, instead of gathering influence and playing the ''in-between'' stages of the tiers. Some people say that the transition phase is the most important, others say that if you can click through it and barely get penalized it can''t be important. I''m of the frame of mind that sometimes people want to try new strategies, or sometimes they want to be lazy bastards and just click a button once they have what they need.


    Technically speaking, if I were playing the game, I''d just be clicking through to Tier 2 after queuing up all that I need. If a battle comes up, I''ll auto-resolve it. If I don''t like the outcome, I''ll go back and fight it out manually, or I might not if I can''t be bothered. After thousands of games and thousands more hours, I might even play some game on my phone or on a laptop that''s easy on the brain, because I knew that I could recover later.


    Thankfully, being forced to live minute by minute made sure that I couldn''t do that.


    Oh, and there was the fact that doing that actually gets thousands of people killed.


    That also kept me from being lazy.


    Anyhow, as with any interim period between Tiers, there were various Metas. The early game between Tier 0 and 1 was really amorphous and situationally dependent. Do what you can with what you''ve got to hamstring people and try to get the best events and good artifacts, which were all RNG dependent. Not exactly grounds for long term strategy. It''s more seizing the moment to give yourself the advantage while fucking over someone else, if you could.


    Between Tier 1 and 2, though, there were solid strategies. Almost a dizzying amount, but when you''ve got two Citadels, there were only three options on the table.


    The first was to stay on the defensive, research and build your economy, and seize two more Citadels before Tier 3 comes out. Standard blitz play after getting your economy running and leveraging the fact that you have twice the population and land as anyone else. Just drown two opponents in industry, and buckle up for the shitshow of crises set to erupt once the midgame kicks off, while the other four ally up and glare at you while you go through the events together.


    Standard and safe, but inflexible and leaves you lacking in the Champion and Artifacts department. Not ideal for the lategame when Champions and Artifacts make all the difference.


    The second was a pure diplomacy path. Use my glut of resources to make friends and reduce tension. It''ll leave me without the stored bank of resources that I''d need to rapidly make T2 armies when they unlock, but I won''t need them. Instead of working on getting Citadels, I''ll essentially be working to get the Ally Perks that other factions give you, as long as the two of you are in good terms and formally allied. For example, being good friends with the Wardens made it so that you can resurrect your Champions if they have the building unlocked and built, for half the cost it''d take to hire a new one and twice the time length it takes for them.


    Ally Perks are great bonuses and they get stronger the more research you and your ally put into diplomacy. Percentage bonuses to your armor, attack, and mana are possible. Their armies coming in to support yours. Their Champions providing buffs to your army. The list goes on and it''s the reason why people say co-op wins don''t count: everyone working together makes the game easy as hell. Who knew that not killing each other while something else is trying to kill you both results in an easier game?


    But I''m digressing.


    The third path, the one that I was on now, was the riskiest of the three: raise and invest in Champions and load them up, while trying to balance the first two options. Yeah. Try to get an ally and build up to T2 while having the resources split between each other and new Champions. It was an all or nothing approach, highly dependent on the RNG and not getting screwed by the AI or Events. However, like I said before, in the last stages of the game Champions and Artifacts are the difference between losing and winning. A region that doesn''t have a support Champion pumping up its outputs is effectively half of a city. An army without a Champion facing one that does is practically guaranteed to lose.


    Therefore, it was the only choice I could take, especially with all the Crises happening at once.


    Given the fact I had two frontline Champions, two for assassination and espionage, and one for support, it stood to reason that it was time to find an unfortunate person who has spent their entire life training to be at the front¡­ and giving them a clerical job.


    Sorry in advance to whomsoever I find for the job.


    I''ve got enough firepower, and I need more people counting beans and (hopefully) bullets.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert.


    ?


    Sarala of Alysia looked at me over a table filled with golden coins, a knife stabbed at the center, and cards littered the table. He scoffed and placed his cards at the table, before crossing his arms. He was covered in finery and silks of myriad colors from head to toe, with his eyes solely showing as bright golden orbs. Not a hint of his ancestry revealed, as was the custom of the Beast Tribe from which he came.


    "You''re kidding."


    "I''m not."


    "The King of Wisdom wants to just¡­ put someone in charge of a Citadel region" Sarala was one of my underclassmen while at the Academy. A full six years younger than me, he started as a merchant''s son. Times passed, tragedies occurred, and after graduation he was rebuilding his family''s wealth on trade deal at a time. By sea, land, and even air, he worked to gain a fraction of a fraction of what his family once had. "I thought this man of yours was supposed to be smart?"


    It was good that I came here alone, instead of bringing Oswald and the boys. They''d have a lot to say about that, and that would''ve made things difficult.


    "You''ll be taking an advisory position with his seal. Speak in his name, give advice, and fight for the lands while leading his troops, but you won''t have full control. We have¡­ people watching in the shadows and you''ll be living in the Citadel, which he controls fully."


    "Ah, so there''ll be a knife at my throat the entire time. The King of Wisdom lives up to his name." Sarala mused and lifted up his mug and brought it to where his mouth out to be. Beneath a veil, he easily drank without revealing any sign of his ancestry and physical form. The Beast Tribes knew of each other''s tells and their bodies were too honest. Thus, they covered themselves completely unless around their most trusted. Too much could be inferred from the slightest twitches of their bodies, the standings of tails, and some even went as far as to hide their eyes, too. "Then, what is the task and I will offer my price."


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "The task is to do everything you can to make the land prosper. Everything within your power to grow its population, keep them happy, ensure that they pay their tithes, and raise armies and castles according to his commands."


    "That''ll be a heavy price¡ª


    "20 talents of gold to begin and 5 talents every year thereafter." What little concern I had for the fortune that Jack offered, a whole hundredth of the treasury for one person and a quarter that every year thereafter, faded when Sarala shot up from his seat and stared at me with wide eyes. I took a sip from my mug to hide my smirk. Seeing such a man of talent and skill and prestige turned into little more than a retainer to be hired was humbling indeed. This man sailed the dreaded seas, commanded caravans across a war torn continent, and even captained air ships filled with knowledge that could shake the world entire. Yet, he lost control and composure both. "Interested, I see."


    "¡­I would ask if your King were mad, but I see now. He knows what he asks for when he demands me to truly raise up half his nation. That is a bounty that cannot be matched by any foe he has. Beyond bribery and corruption both." Sarala shook and wavered, but managed to sit down. His gaze flickered to nearby tables and with a wave of his hand his protectors and bodyguards in plain clothes nodded. Money changed hands, the barkeeper and the owner listened, and soon enough the whole place was empty save for the two of us. An act of extreme control and wealth, yet the man''s hidden hands still shook visibly as he took a drink to steady himself. From a scavenging boy found with a merchant''s scales, to a King who could shatter the composure of a man peerless in his field in an instant. Not bad. "Yet, I feel as though I would be a fool to not take the offer, even though it is my life entire being purchased."


    "We could buy a whole army with that much gold. From ourselves, of course, but an army nonetheless." I was not a merchant, but I knew enough to avoid any pitfalls. I could offer half as much more. An eye-watering amount, but Jack had been eager to say that he''d be more willing to pay a higher price, if a merchant was able to raise the praise that much with me. It made sense. A man who could convince me to give him enough gold for a whole army and half that again would be talented indeed. "But you understand why he''s willing to pay that much. That region has gone as far as it has with no one directing it. It''s repaired, no sign of war exists anymore, and we have projects and work aplenty there¡­ but it needs a personal touch. What the people will need, what the people can make the best, what they''ll be able to do in a pinch."


    "A merchant that can wring every last coin from them and make them thank him for it. Yes, I see." Sarala let loose a sigh and shook his head. A moment later, after hesitating, he undid his turban and took off his veil. A cross between a lion''s face and a man''s looked at me with a snarling grimace, before he forcibly he raised his mug and downed it with gusto the moment I raised my own. That was a moment of acceptance better than any I could ask for. He spoke again after downing the whole tankard, and he did not hide the roar rumbling in his chest or hide his true stature in his silks. He was as tall and large and mighty as I. "Then, the deal is struck! The King of Wisdom''s ship shall be the one I lash my ship to! May good fortune lie ahead of us both!"


    I stood and raised my own drink to completely consume, too.


    Once again, I hid a smile.


    Even with all in the horizon, the end of the Ancients themselves hidden in the corners of the world watching us, I couldn''t help but smile.


    Jack never ceased to amaze and I wondered what he''d accomplish next.


    ?


    Awww, fuuuuuuccccckkkkkk.


    "Is something wrong, Jackie? You look like you''ve gotten bit, and not in a way that anyone likes."


    I looked over at Khalai, in a maid outfit with fishnet stockings and lounging in my temporary''s office''s sofa, and back at Ayah''s report.


    "My Citadel has detected a long and dry upcoming spring and summer." That gave the Wardens'' King pause, and he got up and walked over. The clack of sensible heels and dry swallowing of my guards were palpable. Steady lads. You''ve got a whole stipend to use later today for entertainment purposes. "The upcoming harvest will be small, if it exists at all."


    "May I?" Khalai extended a hand clad in a white, elbow-length glove, while the other took out glasses, put them on, and brushed back a strand of hair behind the ear. This guy''s going to get both of our countries in hot messes, while he''ll be having all the fun. Man, I really need to gift him a whole, small town of ''entertainers'' to make sure he doesn''t mess up in the future. I handed him the letter. Everyone should have access to the info on the tutorial crisis, but the Wardens were still getting used to their Citadel. "Thank you, Jackie."


    I crossed my arms and opened another letter from Ayah.


    Food stores on our end were perfect, even with our ongoing trade with the Conquerors, but according to Khanrow''s information the Conquerors were going to be caught off guard.


    Like they usually were.


    The Wardens weren''t going to find any issues, though, since their building population was still small¡ª


    "This is horrible! We must coordinate with one another immediately to see that no one goes hungry!"


    Or, I suppose, we can start the Council of Kings early.


    Huh.


    Yeah.


    Why shouldn''t we start that early? I didn''t need to wait until the barbarians were at the door to get things done with some semblance of unity.


    "Exactly what I was thinking." I lied through my teeth with practiced precision, and only slightly felt bad when Khalai looked at me and beamed with a wide smile. I stopped him before he got onto my lap when he clambered onto my table, though. I''m not against hugging friends, but lap-sits while my friend is crossdressing in a fetish maid outfit is waaaayyy past my comfort zone. "And, I believe that your lands will be the perfect place to host it."


    "Ah, of course! We have no army and already host a King and his guards completely neutrally! This is the perfect place to host a small, emergency council!"


    Exactly.


    Now stop standing atop my desk with that skirt on, please.

 V3: Chapter 7:

    V3: Chapter 7:


    ?


    Rita, Ilych, Riegert, Khanrow, Ayah, and Sarala.


    Well, technically, Ayah was a bonus more than a Champion in the game, but it was doing a great job so I figured that it counted.


    Still, six champions at this stage of the game was good. They picked me up when I was 11 and now I''m 15. 4 turns a year, so this is turn sixteen with a 2nd Citadel and 6 Champions. Overkill for hard mode, but with everyone perfectly using their cooldowns, using strategy correctly, and being actual people, the difficulty mode was definitely on maximum settings. Oh, of course, there was also the fact that we were going to get hit with all the in-game crises.


    So, six Champions and two Citadels at turn sixteen was really just scraping by from my estimates.


    At the very least, everyone was doing their job and things were going as planned.


    Even if Ayah was doubting me.


    The Ancient Administrator was brought in as a disguised replacement for one of the guards to deliver top secret reports, she and I conversed in another outing from beyond the Warden Citadel''s surveillance range. All the hunting outings I did were slowly getting me used to riding a horse, which will be useful if things go sour.


    "Why do you insist on social reforms and defensive planning? The territory that we hold is too large to hope to hold. It is necessary to create reserves and mobilization plans, as well as a perimeter that protects our logistical operations." In theory and in the lower difficulty levels, that''ll work. However, it was a prolonged suicide in the current settings. I just needed to get Ayah to understand the fact without seeming crazy and using game terms. Also, it was a lot easier to talk to it when it pretends to be a dude covered in armor, even if the still-female voice threw me off. "Why put effort towards community management and health and culture of all things?"


    I kept quiet and did my best to not just spurt out gaming terminology, while doing my best to convert the words into actual speech.


    It took a second, but I managed to do it.


    "The conflict that lies ahead is one that will be prolonged. As of now, our people are not yet united and happy. We need to bind them together, otherwise they''ll break apart and splinter under pressure." The biggest threshold that any player in the current scenario needed to surmount was to get to a certain Happiness level. It didn''t matter if you had the armies to stop the enemy, or could stop them at your borders, when your population is going crazy, rioting, and it becomes impossible to be produce and research. "My goal is to create a culture of resistance against the coming threats. Before guarding the mind and body, we must work on guarding the spirit, so that we have the will to fight."


    When your people are happy and willing to fight for that happiness, the enemy suffers greater attrition rates in your territory, you get more powerful militia units, and your troops take less upkeep and have nigh-unbreakable morale. Happy people are people willing to fight tooth and nail for every inch of land that they have and give up their lives for that land. Unhappy people falter, break, and leave you with a floundering economy and industrial base while the enemy bears down on you.


    Before you can make it about ''us vs. them'' you need to make sure that the ''us'' in the scenario has a life that they want to protect to really make them fight hard.


    Ayah looked straight ahead in silence after my words, but soon enough it nodded its helmed visage.


    "I see. I overlooked the fact that your people are only recently united and that more could be done to further ensure that they remain vigilant and guarded." I nodded and did my best to look imperious and regal. Fake it until you make it, right? "So, once the groundwork has been laid, we will be reinforcing our lands?"


    "Correct. Underground supply lines. Depots. Mandatory civil service. Reinforced shelters. Self-sufficient fortresses. Everything." After making sure that the people don''t go crazy with all the doom and gloom bearing down on them, the correct play was to make every inch of territory a living hell. Four crises, one in each direction and even one spawning right in the center of the map, meant that every direction needed to be defended. A rifle behind every blade of grass my goal, but I liked the thought of a field cannon hidden in every hillside sounded better. Every pass, every bridge, and every road was going to be pre-sighted, if possible. Switzerland''s defenses with the Soviet Union''s mass-conscription strategy. Man, I wish I can spam tanks. Hm. Maybe, I can? If I set the factories up right away, refine the process asap, and make Ayah streamline the production effort more, it might work. Hm, maybe. "I assure you. Both Citadels will be protected, and people will flock to us. Then, we''ll make use of them to further increase our production."


    I was ready for Ayah to agree and nod, but the Ancient Administrator suddenly leapt at me and tackled me off my horse.


    A second later my horse turned into red mist and half of the horse that Ayah had been riding turned into red mist, too.


    Damn, I was starting to like Thomas.


    Ayah caught me in its arms and landed on its feet. A second later we were in the thicket, while horns resounded across the forest, as my mages detected that attack magic had been used.


    In a few minutes, all my guards were going to converge on my position, especially as Ayah seamlessly threw up a burst of magic into the air to mark our position.


    The problem was if we had a few minutes, especially with the firepower that we faced.


    So, I didn''t waste time and spread out my senses.


    Closing my eyes, deadening and ignoring my other senses, I briefly saw and heard and felt nothing¡­ and then I ''felt'' the magic in the air. It was like a light breeze that pervaded every direction. I couldn''t compare to mages with inherent talent, or even those who diligently practiced every day, but blasting apart a horse and half of a horse into chunky salsa left a ''trail'' in the ''breeze'' that even I could spot.


    "At least ten meters ahead and two others. Go and kill them. Now!"


    I made the decision to risk everything on Ayah, instead of having it run away with me, and I regretted it for a moment as it dropped me.


    Then, that moment ended, as it complied and all but banished with a burst of speed that shook fresh leaves off the tree I''d been concealed behind and nearly threw me aside.


    Right.


    Ayah''s chassis was Ancient construction.


    A second passed, there was the faraway noise of a shrill scream and panicked yells, but nothing more after another second.


    I put two and two together.


    If a mage didn''t take out someone with the physical abilities of a Champion when they''re in knife-fighting range, it only takes a few seconds.


    I dusted off the leaves, did my best to pay no attention to the half-of-a-horse on the ground, and waited.


    Ayah appeared a moment later, borrowed armor covered completely in blood, and with gauntleted hands covered in viscera and shards of bone slinking down on trails of thick blood. I took a glance at the direction of the fighting, while it scanned me down for injuries, even while I preemptively already started casting healing spells on myself. On the road ahead of us, there were parts and pieces of people strewn about like ripped apart pieces of paper on puddles or sprays of blood.


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    Despite being seemingly made of moving stone, Ayah was practically a terminator and one that used its hands to rip through people, not just throw them around.


    Still, there was only one question on my mind.


    "Who sent them?"


    Ayah shook its head and I sighed.


    Dammit.


    I needed to contact Khanrow, because he''s the only one who can get to the bottom of this¡­ and start working on preventing future ones.


    This was just the first of many.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert


    ?


    Assassination attempts were once a mark of honor. A statement that you''ve become so dangerous that others would try to slip a knife in your back, rather than try to fight you head on. After the first, you''re given more credibility and all those who meet you flinch at your presence. People respect you after you survive and that respect grows with every passing day.


    Some men would even celebrate and drink at the attempt on their leader''s life, as they know that their warband will command more prestige and respect across the continent.


    That wasn''t the case now.


    Gunther''s brow was creased and so was Oswald''s as I entered the room.


    "That bad?" Both of the men were bald. Gunther was the older of the two and more composed, while Oswald seemed antsy and only relaxed upon my entry. For a second, I thought he only he lost his nerve, until I realized that Gunther''s side of the table had imprints of his fingers on them. Both were poring over a map of the incident. The assassination attempt on Jack. "I see. Neither of you could''ve known. It''s fine."


    Both opened their mouths to argue, maybe even accuse each other, but I held up my hand.


    "The three assassins were inserted into the ground weeks ahead of schedule. Not only that, but we just checked three other hunting ground. We found five more cells and captured their inhabitants." If they were younger men, I''d tear them down to ingrain their failure into their heads. But I knew them both and it was obvious that they were tearing themselves up over their failure already. My duty here was to build them back up. "It''s new. It''s innovative. Above all else, it''s clever as hell and no one saw it coming. Neither of you are to blame. Protocol was followed and the redundancies in place worked."


    "Captain¡­"


    "But¡­"


    ?


    I added a little phrase at the end that Jack used when I broached the topic of how to quell his soldiers'' self-loathing at failing him.


    As I expected, it worked wonders. The simple turn of phrase made something ''click'' in both Oswald and Gunther, and they seized the papers with newfound determination.


    "Leave it to us, Captain."


    "We won''t let you down."


    "Got it, I''ll see you two later." I gave them both nods and left¡­ moving towards the barracks where the men were.


    If their two leaders were like this, with all their experience and power, I knew the younger generation, filled with so much promise and pride, would need my help.


    And, I was more than willing to give it.


    ?


    I walked back into the room with Gunther and Oswald, both pouring over the information we were provided by Jack, and I put down another sheet of papers.


    "Captain?" Gunther raised a brow, while Oswald peered at the stack. "Are those from the men?"


    "Indeed. I though that they''d be moping around, but they were using their heads instead." My words made both my fellows shudder, and so did I. Good. There was some sanity in the world left. "They had a few ideas on how to stop something like this from happening again."


    "How many of those ideas involved storming every Citadel and killing anyone who might think our King would oppose them in the future?"


    "I got rid of them already, but only a few were like that." I grunted and separated them into sheets. I''d thought Jack had been joking when he told me to ask the troops about simple methods to solve the problem. Most soldiers I worked with didn''t know how to read, write, or do anything besides follow orders and use their weapons. It was different now. Jack''s suggestion brought results. "Most came to suggest a new patrol scheme and doing something different to get privacy outside of the Warden''s ears."


    "¡­A good solution for sure, if the King would listen." Gunther grunted, and I nodded. Jack would. In fact, he already told me to search for other venues to speak more easily with one another. "What else did they suggest?"


    "How to get the prisoners to talk." I gingerly looked over those papers. Some tactics were just malicious, but some were cleverer. "A few were former hunters apparently. Ones that fought goblins. They told me that we could feign an escape for one or two of those we captured, so that they might be able to lead us to their friends."


    That was the sort of plan that Khanrow would dream up. Not something a common soldier would think of.


    Or, so I had thought, until I spoke to Jack''s new soldiers.


    "That can work. We have plenty to interrogate already and if we go too far, we can ask the Wardens to revive them." Oswald spoke easily about torturing a man to death and bringing him back for revenge. I never though he''d suggest it¡­ or that both Gunther and I would hardly blink at the words. I just accepted the cruelty as a matter of fact, as long as we got what we wanted. "How do you think we can do it?"


    "A transfer back to our home, but a staged ''bandit'' attack which leads to the ones we chose escaping and being tracked." Gunther suggested. And, once again, I was surprised. It was another idea that I''d think would come from Khanrow, yet it came from a ''mere'' veteran of the original warband. "What do you think, Captain?"


    I think¡­ that I need to start learning once more, before I found myself outstripped by the ''common'' soldier and officer of Jack''s army.


    "It''s good. Work on it."


    So, not only were they strong and hungry for prestige, but clever and conniving too.


    This new army was truly something that the continent hadn''t seen since the Ancients fell.

 V3: Chapter 8:

    V3: Chapter 8:


    ?


    There comes a time in a man''s life where he needs to make a line in the sand, whereupon he decides what his limits are and never crosses them.


    That line separates a man from a monster.


    Keep that in mind, while I consider the tactical, short-term benefits of allowing other countries to starve for my nation''s gain.


    Hm? Yes, I just nearly got assassinated a few days ago. No, that''s not affecting my judgement at all. In fact, I''ve been thinking about the pros and cons of starving populations of other nations before that happened.


    There''s no easy way to say this, but having a lot of food while other people are starving is a really good advantage.


    Okay, so just hear me out.


    Letting people starve is bad.


    Dying via starvation is terrible.


    Food should be a human right.


    But¡­ letting everyone balloon up to massive population numbers before the endgame crises hit isn''t a good idea.


    Higher populations require more cohesion, more culture, more happiness, more luxuries, and more techs to maintain. You can''t have all that population in cities either because overcrowding is a massive, negative modifier. People need to be spread out in villages, towns, and budding cities in surrounding regions, which requires those regions be cultivated, industrialized, protected, and exploited for upkeep of all the things you need to build to support that population.


    If you don''t make sure these people are happy, if they''re miserable, poorly protected, and don''t believe in your ability to lead them, then you''re going to lose them when a crisis rears its head. If you couldn''t protect them before the world-ending threat arrived, then what makes you think they''ll take their chances when it has arrived. Yeah, they''ll just rebel, they''ll try to protect themselves, steal from you, and be overcome by the enemy without razing their homes and improvements, so that it can all be seized.


    Yeah, so here''s my conundrum.


    Help everyone out now and make sure everyone''s full, happy, and producing babies, and watch as the outlying regions rebel later and crumble and cede important assets to already-overpowered enemies. Or, I could choose to keep people hungry and barely provide any help, stall everyone else''s expansion and growth. Instead of hastily growing, people will focus inward, build tall, and find other ways to keep their citizenry happy, while going through lean times. People will be hungry, a lot of people will die, but in the end they won''t be rebelling and ceding land and assets to the coming apocalypse.


    I''d like to say there''s a third option that I could take, but the famine mini-crisis really doesn''t leave much wiggle room.


    You can''t outsmart starvation.


    ?


    In-game, when the Council of Kings activates, it does so every three turns once most of the factions reached T2 in terms of economy, which was around Turn 20.


    Which meant that all the leaders gathered in one of the capitals of the continent once per year.


    I thought that it was too few times, especially when there''s a calamity going on that everyone needs to work together to deal with. Though, in reality, it sounded crazy for even that to be possible, especially during wartime or when world-ending scenarios are wreaking havoc. The amount of money, supplies, and soldiers involved in moving me across the continent was more than a hundred, normal people would earn in a year because of wages, logistics, and other things necessary in traveling.


    The game devs were being merciful when they didn''t charge money for it, but factored it in once the economy was good enough.


    Anyhow, since I wanted people to come over and get the process of working together underway, I had to confront the problem that everyone else might not have the funds to do it. Thankfully, since I had two Citadels, the Ancient Administrator early, and the fact I rushed a T2 economy early instead of massing T1 armies¡­ money wasn''t an issue.


    It did raise another issue, though.


    "They will see this as an attack on their dignity, as well as give further credence to the Guardian''s claims that you see yourself as the ruler of the continent." I personally wrote out each missive to be sent to the other rulers of the continent. My office was largely empty, but with Ayah close by and feigning existence as a new servant/bodyguard, I had little reason to be concerned. There was also the fact that I was in a Citadel and all guards were reinforced, but having a killer robot made me feel a lot more secure. "They may refuse on those grounds alone, even with the information you''ve provided."


    "Then, that''ll be on them. I wouldn''t wish to coordinate famine relief efforts with people who look at offers like this and claim they''re being wronged." That means they''re not exactly co-worker material, you know? Them not coming will relieve me of the hard decision of having to decide on who to starve and who to help. The Conquerors were guaranteed, because they were building the support structures they needed and shoring up their cultural issues. Their T1 Arena Wonder would give them loads of happiness, generate culture with every victory they got, and even given their Units starting XP. As long as they kept securing regions and didn''t stop fighting, they''re going to be stable and ready for what''s to come, even with an expanded population. "I''m more worried about the people straddling the line. Do you think the Academy and the Guardians will come?"


    I''d basically thrown the glove down, called the Academy a bunch of imperialist scumbags and ravaged the Guardian''s outer regions and budding villages. Not exactly the best way to make friends or convince people to come to talks about fixing resource shortages. However, the Guardians needed less food than everyone else, they had the ''manpower'' to till more fields than anyone else, and the Academy was a potential, disruptive element. If the Academy decided to buy as much food as possible, even with the very strong agricultural output, then I''ll only be able to support the Orcs and the Dark Elves, while keeping my own people alive.


    "The Guardians have accepted their defeat with grace and humility. The Academy are the ones who have most likely tried to have you killed. It is likely that an economic conflict will erupt for food soon." On one hand, having someone to point at as the problem was good. On the other hand, I knew well how absurd food prices can get during famine. The game had operated off a simple market with demand increasing prices. Nothing made food demand go up more than a famine, especially when there are eight other factions trying to fill up. Those that didn''t have money to buy usually didn''t have the money because it was maintaining the armies they built, too. This was very likely to turn into a bloodbath. One that I couldn''t afford. "What do you suggest we do?"


    In the game, there was a certain method to make sure that the Academy didn''t go out and buy every last scrap of food with their reserves of gold.


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    Unfortunately, it was going to net me a lot of reputation loss.


    Hopefully, it wouldn''t come to that, but I knew that a fight that I could win with reputational repercussions was better than one that I couldn''t win.


    ?


    Interlude: Rita


    ?


    Our king''s foresight was truly beyond words.


    Sarala was proving himself to be an immense boon to our nation within weeks of his hiring.


    The lands around the second Citadel were now teeming with industry and life. In every direction, there stretched fully-tilled fields, new groves filled with saplings, and hardy plants capable of withstanding the coming heat. The merchant''s knowledge of the world from all his travels, the freedom his position gave him, and the enticement of money and the loss of power upon being stripped of his position all combined to make the land prosper.


    "Rita." Ilych''s voice drifted over me. Disguised as an immense knight in purpled plate, and with her blood-drinking blade hidden by sheets of cloth, she was unrecognizable. Almost as unrecognizable as I. "We near Sarala''s manor."


    My disguise was that of a messenger of high ranking. I met with the various mayors and leaders of the towns underneath the King of Wisdom. My guise was that of a messenger, but with finer, hardy clothes and the seal of the King upon my lapel. I was meeting with the various individuals of influence our King''s lands and taking the measure of the people we met.


    Sarala, given the greatest position of leading and overseeing the Children of the Elm''s former realm, was the last, but most important of them all.


    I had to know whether he loyal, and so far the results of his efforts alone spoke of that he was, and that our King''s foresight was blessing us all once again.


    I looked and all that I saw was peace and plenty, even as famine and terror reared its head in the horizon.


    But all that I saw was on the surface, and there could be more hidden away.


    The carriage stopped, and we exited it to reveal the mansion. Its style stood out amongst the shaped-trees that the Children of the Elm preferred to grow. Composed of carved stone that was pure white, along with gardens of pure white sand surrounding small oases of desert plant, the front yard presented a sleek and large complex of multiple domiciles around a central square with a fountain. Vivid, colorful shades were in every direction, while tall palm trees cast long shadows. It matched the houses of those who dwelled in the desert, where the flow of air, the implementation of shade, and running water provided succor in the summer, desert heat.


    Sarala awaited us with his guards and servants at his side with his lion-head bared atop his large, robed form¡­ and he bowed to us both.


    He''d seen through the ruse, but had deigned to reveal it after the gates to his compound were closed.


    Good enough.


    "Ilych and Rita, I welcome my fellow Champions to my humble abode. Consider what is mine, yours." The Merchant gave a deep bow with hands outstretched and so did his guards and servants. I strode forward, standing taller, and removing the magic that encompassed my features. No longer looking akin to my former self, but instead my true self. Though I didn''t feel its effects, I felt better revealing my true face. "As you can see, you are expected. Please, accept my humble hospitality."


    We were caught off guard, but knowing Khanrow, this was itself a test.


    "Refreshments first. We shall talk about your current actions in these lands. Most importantly, an update on the claiming of the neighboring regions." With the lands around the first Citadel being settled and now simply being filled with what it needed, our King cast his gaze here. He did not intend for it to be a simple breadbasket, but another land that could stand on its own. Rather than exploit the remains of the Children of the Elm, he saw fit to make them his citizenry, and even now his decisions were bearing fruit. Even before Sarala arrived, it had been expanding paying larger and larger tithes with ease. "Have any ancient ruins been found and secured?"


    "More than a dozen and they are quite large." Sarala took our dismissal of his hospital without so much as a twitch of annoyance. With a gesture of a pawed hand, his bodyguards dispersed and the servants moved to the central square that the many small building sand columned halls surrounded. In moments, trays filled with foods and drinks were being offered to us as we took seats around a table moved in just from out of sight. Warm, wet towels removed what little grime our travels gave us. I recalled the man was stated to be a good negotiator. I could see why. "Will the two of you seize them all?"


    "Yes. We will." I addressed him straightforwardly. There was no spark nor flash of greed in his eyes, but I felt¡­ out of place. Did I see what I wanted to see? Was he simply letting me see what I wanted? Questions abounded within my mind whether I could discern if Sarala was loyal and true. My experience and knowledge told me that I did not. My teeth threatened to grit, but I took a calming breath and continued. If I cannot now, then I will in the future. "Then, I would like a copy of the maps of the region. A route and supplies to travel it would be appreciated."


    "Done, but I hope that the two of you would enjoy my hospitality first?" Sarala offered, but I shook my head. Ilych removed her helmet and began to eat. My body burned food as fuel, so I began to eat as well. The tastes and flavors were dulled, but they were there. A sigh left the Merchant''s lips, but he was soon served his own meal. "And, here I had hoped to learn more about my fellow Champions."


    I was surprised as Ilych spoke.


    "Do your duty well and you will not learn anything about us. Or, we you." It''s a simple, succinct statement, but it may as well as made the air freeze, even as Ilych thoughtfully chewed her meal. I''d grown used to her presence, but her demeanor and size and talent became apparent in an instant. The armor she now wore could easily encase a horse. The chair that she used was twice the size of mine. Though from afar she had the figure of a well-muscled woman, her height and size was apparent even with her elegant proportions. She remains an unstoppable titan on the battlefield. Where she goes in combat, with all the weapons and artifacts she had at her disposal, nothing could hope to even stagger her step. "Jack trusts you, so I trust you. Others do still watch and wait. Like me."


    A deep silence followed Ilych''s statement and dull gaze, before she turned her attention wholly to her plate and Sarala''s gaze snapped my way.


    "I''ll have another carriage ready with supplies and horses. If you need more bodies, go to an outpost and show them the sigil that my servants will give you. Take as many men as you like."


    I nodded at his words, while he rose up and his meal was fetched by his servants, who hurriedly followed after him.


    Leaving only one, the oldest and the only one unshaken, to tend to our needs.


    Ilych barely paid my grateful nod to her any mind.

 V3: Chapter 9:

    V3: Chapter 9:


    ?


    Speed is everything.


    It''s not good enough to be on time.


    It''s best when you''re there before you need to be.


    Given the fact that I don''t exist in some wuxia world, I wasn''t about to become an esteemed elder primordial jade demon ancestor god that can kill my opponents before they can think. Nor did I have the innate talent to become a blender like Ilych. In this world, all that I could do was predict, have things ready before I need it, and use what I''ve got prepared at the right time at the right moment.


    Preparation was key to my survival.


    That''s why I''m stockpiling everything from money, food, influence, and even strategic resources and not giving any away. However, stuff lying around in warehouses rarely does any good, and I couldn''t have things shipped overnight. The ability to get something from across the world in a few days didn''t exist in this world¡­ or it shouldn''t.


    But my attempt at a Flying Pony Express was finally working


    It took a while to make boxes that the flying horses could pull. Everything from needing to find enough people who could use magic, to training those people, and then getting enough people without the capacity to act as artillery or as healers. Sifting through tens of thousands of people, getting a few thousand who could use magic, and then putting those through a sieve finally yielded what I needed.


    A way to get what I had where I needed it to be when I wanted.


    Yeah, instead of building a T1 Wonder while reaching my desired stockpile level, I built an overnight, flying delivery service.


    Don''t judge me for wasting money. I don''t want to hear a word, unless you''ve also had to deal with transporting things across a whole continent with a circle of mountains at the center, a hostile polity guarding most of the main roads, and treacherous, monster-filled terrain everywhere else!


    It barely works, and the upkeep is eye-watering, but it gets the job done and I can get what I need when I need it!


    That''s all that matters.


    ?


    "This is far more impressive than you implied, King of Wisdom." Saintess Sirena spoke while standing to my right. Even though I kept my eyes straight and looking forward, her chest remained in the corner of my vision. I did my best to ignore them by looking up into the sky. The runway for my arriving order was just a hundred meters of dirt with some dry, loose hay at the very end for emergencies. "This is just like the stories about our Ancestor''s flying vehicles, which they used to even cross the stars."


    Yeah, no.


    These aren''t logistical shuttlecraft that can go into orbit, lady.


    Those aren''t even available until the endgame, and you''ll need Ancient Wrecks to make them. They''re great if your opponent has air superiority and you just want to walk all over them, but there''s better use for Ancient Wrecks than shuttles.


    Waaayyyy, waaayyyy better uses, especially for the shitshow that was endgame.


    But back to me trying to keep boobs out of my face.


    I mean, looking at the results of my hard work.


    "It is said in the stories that the Ancients had thousands of these and that they took most when they fled from the world." The lucky ones managed to get away before shit went down. Unfortunately, according to the lore, even those who got off the planet had only a fifty percent chance of getting to safety. The other fifty died after running out of fuel, food, air, or blown apart. "I don''t know if mine will ever cross the stars, but I hope that many can be spared from the trials and terrors of crossing the continent in caravans. I knew many as my time in a warband who died merely traveling."


    "A noble goal. I am sure that the High Justiciar would be happy to support your network, once the city has been established."


    Yeah, I don''t want death cultists promised eternal paradise to have access to flying transports.


    So, I ignored the offer and watched as the levitating carriage with wheels hit the ground. The first dozen tries had the wheels explode on contact, until someone figured out how suspension systems worked and made them. Those also made regular carriages work better and sold like hotcakes, so it wasn''t a one-off invention, therefore I considered it a small win.


    "Alright, everyone. Time to work." I gestured and my soldiers went forward to start lugging off cargo onto other wagons, this time pulled by regular horses, and who didn''t need two mages constantly casting levitate on them. The wagon was about half the size of a universal container back home, but needed six winged horses, two wagon drivers, and two mages. If it were the size of a universal container, then it would take roughly double the number of winged horses, drivers, mages. Weight was the limiting factor, and we did our best to get optimal container-shape and most efficient staffing. "We have nine more people who need to rest up above! Let''s go!"


    Man, I''m really getting old, if I''m proud over making lots of flying boxes.


    Whatever.


    The flying wagon and its staff and horses were led to a designated area for rapidly transferring supplies from one container to another, while another was signaled to descend. They could loiter, but I wanted them back in the system. I wanted as many people as I could up there.


    Anyway, I checked on a box as stuff began to be transferred.


    Sacks of grain lay within, with my crest on them, ready to be delivered to assuage the pain of hunger across the continent.


    And, of course, win hearts and minds when they were delivered.


    Soft-power or hard-power?


    The right answer is always both.


    ?


    Interlude: Khalai


    ?


    Irksome.


    After spending so much time with Jackie, I''d grown used to having a calm, logical, and kind person as a peer.


    Yet, instead, I find myself confronted by those who choose to not understand.


    "The Council of Marsh-Lords have said that they will not arrive. Neither will the Academy be sending a representative." We called for action. We called for everyone to come together against a common threat. We found only a few heading the call. Even upon lofty thrones, upon the great towers from which our previous selves once ruled, we could not unite. "The Scholars are interested, but the Forgers refuse to attend any meeting with them."


    I was nearly tempted to denounce all those that do not deign to attend.


    In their hands lay the power and strength to change the world entire, because of the rings that they had and used to rule over their Citadels. From the foundries created by the Ancients, there came forth anything that the heart desired, and from everlasting gardens were fruits and grains that could feed tens of thousands, as well as seeds that were hardy and strong.


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    If we all joined hands, if we united our Citadels, then there would be nothing for any of us to fear forevermore.


    Yet, still, we all look upon one another with hate or distrust.


    It tempted me greatly to denounce them, but as Jackie said, I could not simply do as my heart wished.


    "Tell them that they are both welcome and that will not change." I spoke, and thus it was so. I strove to abandon the Merchants of the Marsh and the Academy to their whims. Instead, I focused on those who would arrive. The Conquerors and the Guardians were to join us. With Jackie''s people, then there would be four assured to be present. That knowledge calmed me. "How goes the preparations to house them and feed them?"


    Jael, my ever-competent advisor, nodded at my words and looked quite dashing with his hair pulled back and glasses. He was trying a bit hard to look scholarly though, even if he did make me feel better after Jackie''s continued disinterest. Besides, Jackie would never wear tights, cute shorts, garters, a vest, and a tie.


    Sigh, what a waste.


    But back to important matters.


    "The King of Wisdom has done as he said and provided all that we needed to rapidly create the meeting hall. All the supplies were brought by air. Amongst the supplies were hardy greens and seedlings. The same which he had our gardens grow to sow into our fields for the coming drought." A dozen? A hundred? Perhaps, a thousand? I did not know how many steps Jackie saw ahead, but I did luxuriate in the keenness of his vision. I strove to emulate him, but for now I would rely upon him. "Saintess Sirena offered for us to support his wonderous composition on our lands, but he did not accept. Our coffers will be spared from your whims, High Justiciar."


    "My whims would''ve given us the knowledge and training needed to emulate Jackie''s project." I levelled a glare at Jael, only for him to roll his eyes. "Do you not agree?"


    "The price would''ve been too steep. Please, recall that despite all his modesty and honor, the King of Wisdom has another Citadel at his beck and call and they grow in efficacy when they are interlinked." Ah, matters of the treasury always made me wince. However, I forced myself to listen. Jael did not do this entirely out of jealousy. His was a keen mind from a long and storied bloodline. Much of his family has ensured that our mines produced to their utmost and they were doing the same above ground. "He has not deigned to share how much more he gains than others, but many are sure that he has at most has thrice the output of one Citadel. That is before the wealth and industry of his nation is taken into account with all his fanatic citizenry."


    "Ah, I intended to ask you about that. We can do the same, correct?"


    "We would be foolish not to, High Justiciar." Jael nodded and I readied myself for another lecture on numbers, on population, and on food. All important things, but I cannot ignore the matter that I longed for romance and festivities and diplomacy more. So, I had to brace myself. "However, my suggestions will have to wait. We have a guest."


    "Thane."


    "I am here, High Justiciar." Thane entered through the windowsill. The great height of the immense Citadel meant little for such an accomplished mage as him. His cloak fluttered, and I pouted at his full state of dress. I needed to grow used to the prudishness of the other races. Thankfully, the wizened sage merely laughed at my stare and he tipped his wide-brimmed hat my way. "I have finished studying the recent attack on your guest. It was a school of magic that I am familiar with. A common spell used on the battlefield taught by the Academy."


    "How sure are you of this accusation?"


    "Sure enough that I would eat my boot, if I am wrong." Thane laughed lowly and accepted a cup of tea on a saucer from Jael. Despite aging so much faster than my own kind, he had his appeal and was healthy in body, too. Dark-skinned and with a gray beard, he almost looked like a Warden, but he was in fact of the Descendants. Sometimes, I wondered why the Ancients would leave their progeny with so few gifts, but when ones such as Thane Blackmore and Jackie shone so brightly and so frequently¡­ I disabused myself of the notion that they erred. The Descendants learned quickly, had the most Champions arise from their number, and they were the most numerous. "The Academy prides itself in a rigorous regimen for its battle mages. This casting was textbook. Amplified force, channeled in a tight beam, and strengthened with energized particulate. Exactly as writ in this book right here from my old alma mater."


    Thane pressed the book onto my desk, already helpfully on the page he''d mentioned, and gave me a fatherly smile.


    These Descendants had a penchant for being quite attractive, but not forthcoming, didn''t they?


    Jael cleared his throat and drove me from my errant thoughts.


    "Let it suffice to say that any of my caliber can determine the truth of the matter with ease. The fact that the King of Wisdom has not said as such can only mean one thing: that he intends to use the assassination attempt to his advantage."


    Those words caught my attention.


    "And, pray tell, how would he hope to do that?" Jael spoke in my stead with a sigh and a shake of his head.


    "By reputation alone, the continent entire knows that he must know. Therefore, by saying nothing, he holds it a threat. Whether he blames the Academy or not is irrelevant. He lives after an assassination attempt, he has not decried it, and now he looks across the land urging all others on." Thane said with a smile and I managed to piece together what he was insinuating, even though Jael''s frown only deepened. This wasn''t a matter of the mind, but of the spirit, with which I was far more familiar.


    "I see. It is a challenge to all who may try that they may, but that they should fear the consequences he can force upon them when they do." The Academy could pay reparations with ease. They could even claim they had nothing to do with the attempt and that the King of Wisdom was using them as targets. However, by saying nothing, he was driving them mad, wondering what his next move was, in a duel of words and politics where preparation and pageantry were both of the greatest import. "Magnificent. And, everyone knows this¡­ yet they cannot do the same as him. He shakes the Academy without saying a word and in his silence issues a challenge that all others will find themselves lacking. Brilliant."


    Thane gave a nod at my assessment and I luxuriated at the knowledge that I did well.


    Jael blushed lightly at my explanation, only understanding after I spoke, but soon enough he cleared his throat as the sound of bells echoed from the growing city at the base of the Citadel.


    Our first guests were here, and for the first time, I was to meet a Conqueror in the flesh.


    I clapped my hands together and my servants, Nale and Jun came forward with eager gazes and my clothes already in hand.


    Time to get dressed and to impress.


    Jackie''s quite splendid with all his ideas, and I''m sure that he''ll dazzle, but his methods were too honest for what was to come.


    Times such as these required a little more than honesty to resonate with the entire continent and demean those who refused to come.

 V3: Chapter 10:

    V3: Chapter 10:


    ?


    The assembly room was straight out of the game.


    A circular table big enough to get shouting matches in, where each chair was personalized for each leader, and there was enough space beside them for their highest-level Champions. The tiles were plain white and the circular room had pillars that hung the crests of the nation. Instead of torchlight, orbs of magic shone upon the room, and in the corners there were little trays filled with confections and drinks for the long meetings ahead.


    This was a room where leaders would meet, where the lives of hundreds of thousands would be decided, and all I could think about was that a really, really strong bomb could wipe everyone out in the room. All the dumb memes about the forces of evil just deciding to bomb the meeting room opportunistically came to mind.


    Contextually, I knew that the room was a massive overture diplomatically. Everyone was going to be on ''equal'' footing with no one at the head of the table, and everyone was going to break the same bread and drink the same food. Without context, it looked like a security disaster waiting to happen. Two champions for each present leader meant fourteen living weapons of mass destruction equidistant from one another and each other''s leaders.


    This meeting could and should be online.


    It won''t only save money, but there''ll be less powerful people armed to the teeth ready to pounce on each other present.


    But, until I built the T3 Wonder that''ll reintroduce society to the internet, that wasn''t going to be happening. And, I was going to build it eventually, because I''m getting sick and tired of having all my orders and reports come via parchment. The sooner I can get everything electronic and transmitted instantly the better!


    Until then, though, I had to deal with the prime assassination opportunity and powder-keg hybrid that was this meeting room.


    Oh, and of course, the Forgers decided to come along with the Scholars, despite their differences.


    Yep.


    The goddamn Goblins and Dwarves were going to be involved in most major, diplomatic event of the Citadel Era.


    Yeah.


    This is going to be a shitshow.


    ?


    Goblins.


    In most games, they were runty, ugly, and stupid green creatures that were a step up from rats as enemies for the player or party to roll over. Some games had them be dangerous, introduce the player to tactical enemies that used debuffs, but overall they disappeared after the early-mid game. Even if you cover up a three-foot, green mob in plate armor and magical weapons, it''s still kinda capped in terms of stats.


    You''d think that the devs would take the easy route, but they surprisingly went for something vaguely different with the Goblins. If I recalled their lore correctly, they were the planet''s last remaining scientists that kept to themselves in a the last, flying city left on the entire planet. Sure, they were scrawny, but that was for more efficient use of space and resources, and their brains remained big. They went around in their flying city looking for Ancient Secrets and storing them for study and research and generally be an annoyance for anyone who wanted nice things. Their claim, of course, was that everything was too dangerous to be in everyone''s hands, and that they had to spend time studying and l learning, before giving what''s safe over to everyone else.


    Their air units are some of the best in the game and they don''t have siege mechanics, but they can capture Citadels and lock them down.


    Yeah, there''s a reason why I''m interested in making aerial transportation work with flying horses and magic, besides getting things where they need to be.


    Then, there were the Dwarves.


    They were the military researchers and logisticians who managed to hole up in bunkers and literally carve out nations in rocks. Technology deteriorated loads, and there were lots of things they couldn''t remake, but they kept their technical documents, carved them into stone, and were also out for Artifacts and were ardent about making everything shiny theirs. However, while the Goblins kept things secret, the Dwarves were more willing to work with other people, share information, and fight whole wars for their goals of re-elevating everyone with all of the new tech.


    If you want metal boxes with big guns, you go with the Dwarves, and lots of those metal boxes are capable of shooting up really, really well.


    You can see why the two hate each other.


    Meanwhile, as far as I''m concerned, the two factions are both annoying pests that don''t use Artifacts right. Dwarves reverse engineer and get huge research bonuses. Goblins store things away and get big research. Meanwhile, I want those artifacts out on the field getting things done. Figure things out later, when we''re all safe, dammit!


    Anyway, I moved to meet with the Scholars of the Skies'' leader and the leader of the Forgers of the Mountains with Khalai.


    You''d think that Khalai would dress properly for the occasion, but that wasn''t the case.


    "This is the first time I''ve seen you so frustrated, Jackie. Are you sure it''s alright to let these two in?" Crop top, short-shorts, and choker. Well, their fantasy equivalents at least. The dude was barely covered by ''dancing'' silk clothes that covered far, far too little. The brown-skinned, toned, and white-haired High Justiciar of the Wardens of the Caverns, the leader of the whole race, probably had less than a square meter of cloth on him and showcased most of his body. "They demanded entry and demanded the other be banned. That should invalidate their presence outright."


    "We''ll see what we can do. They have lands that I''d like to see growing food, rather than dying from a drought." I was already thinking up of contingencies once Khalai did something heinous like stealing a man''s wife or stealing a woman''s husband. All the times I rejected him has led to him just getting more and more extreme. Like a martial artist training hard to win the next match and overcome an obstacle, Khalai was trying to gain greater lewdness¡­ and was becoming too powerful. "They are here. They made the trip. They only need to retract their words and they will be able to participate."


    The Guardians, the Conquerors, the Wardens, the Scholars, and the Forgers were here.


    That was far better attendance than I expected, especially so early in the game.


    It was sad that the Merchants and the Academy weren''t here, but I wasn''t exactly going to expect the Merchants to provide aide for free or for the Academy to work with me, even in a crisis.


    Yeah, in the end, this was a massive milestone and will make things easier, so I was all for getting these guys to work together.


    So, even if it would make me look like a simpering idiot, I''ll beg these guys to stay and at least contribute to the meeting.


    Pride and honor are luxuries of the strong.


    And, I''m sure as hell not strong, yet.


    Still, though, the day will come when I can roll over everyone and that''ll be very, very pleasant.


    ?


    Interlude: Celia


    ?


    Catherine floated through the walls of the guest manor created by the Wardens and entered my temporary office.


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    The Wardens had accounted for everything in their preparations. My guards were all housed on site, I could do my work even while away from my home, and none of my people wanted anything. Months ago, the reports were that this place was struggling, it''s people living in slums, yet when I looked outside upon the city beyond.


    "It seems that the King of Wisdom has brought forth another miracle."


    "Such is the case. The buildings are whole and functional. Not mere facades. Workshops are churning out necessities and weapons. The warehouses are full of metals and gems, and public order is strict." Catherine reported with a small curtsy in her ghostly form. The dark cloak and clothing she formed around herself to feign mortality turned into a luxurious ballroom dress and my teacher retook her typical appearance. "The King of Wisdom came here to prop the Wardens up, to prevent them from being overtaken by all others, and succeeded. This place will be unassailable before any army could arrive that could threaten it."


    "Save for his." I cast my gaze upward and tracked the flight of flying horses and carriages. They descended onto the ground. Prized beasts used for labor, but their efficacy was beyond question. "How long before he turns those containers into troop carriers? Or, perhaps, fill them with mages who could cast spells onto the battlefield below?"


    "Given the beasts are easily trained for war, I am sure that they already can." The King of Wisdom possessed something the entire continent could only look upon with fear. In the span of a few years, he not only took over two Citadels, revealed the return of the enemies of the Ancients, challenged the Academy, and humbled my people, but he has also created a wonder that would allow for him to avoid all the dangers of travelling on land¡­ and allow his armies'' supply lines to be nigh-unassailable. "We will need many watchtowers and to invest in the creation of flying swarms."


    "Catherine, if all those beasts are already trained for war, then it would be trifling to have half their number come forward as flying knights. By my count, the King of Wisdom has at least a hundred. Our swarms will be overwhelmed and towers broken, then they will simply return to their earlier duties." The hallmark of any powerful warlord was their air corps. The blazing speed of a flying horse, a strong lance, and magics that protected and hurled them forward were undeniable. The strongest warlords had dozens at their command. The King of Wisdom had so many he could make most of them act as couriers. "All we can do, if we wish to fight against the King of Wisdom, is to brace for death and despair. For now."


    Catherine bowed at my words.


    "For now."


    And, that was the end of the matter.


    I stood from my table and looked upon myself.


    Appearance was important, so I took the clothes of a general to showcase my nation and people to the rest of the continent. All the other peoples of the continent thought that we were weak, that we could do nothing against the King of Wisdom, and now we needed to present ourselves as mighty and strong. White trousers, boots, a short red jacket with epaulets, and a feathered cap. I''d considered donning my people''s crest upon my chest in silver with a ruby at the center but decided against it. Anything extravagant would only invite ridicule.


    And, I already had concerns regarding the showcase of our newfound strength.


    "How did the last tests with the firearms go again?"


    "Twenty percent misfires for the long weapons. Thirty for the short." Catherine explained simply, while we walked into the hall. My personal guard still remained my Blood Knights in scarlet plate and mystical weapons. However, now, they all had companions bound them. Skeletons covered in simple iron plates and who carried muskets and pistols. Their weak swings were replaced by the crack and boom of firearms and their frailty somewhat negated by armor. Against the bandits that tried their luck against my people, they were powerful additions. All they did was march, reload, and fire upon the enemy''s general direction, but with enough guns in the right direction, it was enough. "Shall we not announce our showcase?"


    "It doesn''t even compare to what the King of Wisdom shows every hour of the day. There will be no show." I shook my head and gestured for my guards to follow. The hall soon filled with the sound of marching metal boots and the light jostling of weapons. "You are sure that the King of Wisdom has not armed his own men with these firearms, correct?"


    "The latest news we have on the experts he procured say that they are hard at work making better versions as of this very moment. None of our spies can hope to infiltrate the workshops he has created." I nodded at the news and felt a nervousness in my gut at the thought. He intended to create mightier weapons, before devoting himself to creating a functional manufacturing line, whereas I have already spent so much to build one for what we now have. How much better were the firearms he intended to field over the ones I''ve already invested so much into? "But there are no signs of construction of any facility to make them, even with the passive purchasing of materials to make powder and recruitment of so many alchemists, it will take time for whatever is composed to be mass produced. We hold the advantage. For now."


    For now.


    Those words I said earlier returned to me, and I sighed and frowned, before running a hand through my hair. I''d had it cut short to further present myself as a military leader, yet it was already quickly growing. Catherine had moved in and given me a small bow to tie it into a loose ponytail at my nape and it looked presentable enough.


    Image.


    Military expansion.


    Technological progress.


    Espionage.


    Expenditure after expenditure.


    Investment after investment.


    Town after town created, factories established, ruins scoured, and more.


    My people and myself were completely committed to survival, to ensuring that we could overcome the King of Wisdom, yet¡­ here I was utterly laid low.


    I stepped out into the day and beheld another Citadel with flourishing lands around it. Jack had arrived, swiftly befriended the Wardens and their people, and raised this land up to equal all the other Citadels already arisen. His mere presence stops dozens of petty warlords from trying to raid these lands, and gave all those aspiring for a second Citadel pause, and after mere months neither could hope to assail the fledgling nation. As he did that, his nation kept producing more and more, and even completed his great work that has given all others pause.


    His armies can arrive anywhere within a week.


    The skies are his to conquer at his command.


    The Wardens are his allies and the Conquerors are all but guaranteed to stand by his side.


    The Scholars and the Forgers, so ardent foes since time immemorial, put aside their differences to meet with him personally for the first time.


    The Academy feared him.


    The Merchants could barely feign indifference.


    And, finally, my people could hardly raise a sword in his presence.


    The last time that we met and spoke to one another, I had accused him of claiming to rule the continent entire by giving himself the responsibility of stopping conflicts across the continent.


    Now, as I looked upon all his works, I realized a simple fact:


    He hadn''t called my claim a lie.

 V3: Chapter 11:

    V3: Chapter 11:


    ?


    The art of diplomacy.


    This might shock you, but I don''t know much beyond kissing ass, making threats, and having thick skin. I doubt that I''d have any more than a couple of dialogue options if I were a video game character. Party member with environment and cutscene-specific dialogue I am not. At most, I''ll probably be a side-character for a quest, with mostly written dialogue and some generic voice lines lifted from other NPCs.


    There''s not much room for negotiating in a world where you can be replaced by someone else the moment you refuse.


    However, in this world, the word of a ruler may as well be law. In fact, I looked over the powers that were vested in me, and that was pretty much the case. I had the right to levy and command armies, declare war, set policies for the city''s direction, have people executed or punished, and generally have the resources and power generated by hundreds of thousands of people at my beck and call. Given the economic output and military ability of my nation, I had a lot of diplomatic clout to back me up, but that was a double-edged sword.


    The more power I had, the less people were willing to compromise with me, and the more they wished to oppose me together. Every little mistake that I made would be turned into propaganda. Every success belittled because of what I had at my disposal. Those who didn''t have what I have would like me less, or be outright looking to sweep the rug from beneath my feet to get what they wanted, and more. In a world where everyone was fighting to defeat everyone else and claim the legacy of the Ancients, being strong meant standing alone, while everyone else worked together.


    Still, even with all the caveats that came with being strong, it was better than being weak.


    Anyone who tells you differently is lying to you and is after your power or is coping so hard that they need to check their dosages before they disengage from reality altogether. Sure, having everyone be after your place on the top is annoying, but it''s far better than trying to reach the top. At the very least, I didn''t have to worry about my ''allies'' backstabbing me, since I knew that everyone was out to get me in the first place.


    ?


    In-game, the start of every Council of Kings gave you a readout of the relationships of all factions present and how your decisions and votes will affect your standing with the factions. This is to make sure that you have an informed choice. For example, the choices you''d have to choose between would be along the lines of: help the Dark Elves'' campaign to spread skimpy silk dancer outfits all over the continent to increase happiness and population counts, or help the Orcs by reinforcing their front lines and lower the production rate of the crisis.


    The council votes on the measure, if you vote for the losing side, they''ll be happy with you. If you vote for the winning side, they''ll be very happy with you, but the losing side will be very angry with you.


    Needless to say, even with the devs doing their best to showcase information as clearly as possible, the Orcs were pissed off at everyone most of the time¡­ and the Dark Elves were usually laughing their way to a cultural victory.


    Anyhow, in real life, those fancy readouts weren''t available and I couldn''t just balance favorability by clicking a few choices.


    I had to socialize, schmooze, feel out the other parties, and get an understanding of the situation on my own.


    Thankfully, I have a lot of experience brown-nosing when I was literally stealing from corpses to live.


    "Ah, Keeper Justina, well met." I greeted the Goblin with a smile. The steampunk Goblins with imperialist tendencies were a pain to deal with in any game, and it''s the same here. Though the devs were usually horny bastards as usual, and the Goblin females looked like women painted green and just made shorter. Thankfully, while the feral male Goblin looked like horrendous monsters, the ones the normal ones were just normal, short dudes with a greenish tint, longer ears, and a bit longer nose. Anyhow, Justina had a nice, big purple hat and wore a formal, matching ballgown, even though she looked displeased with it and she glared at me when I approached her. "You look as displeased with the state of things as always."


    "King of Wisdom." My title slipped out of her mouth like it was poison. I sipped my cider in my fluted glass and tilted it her way for a second. Yep, my estimates were correct. Having the most tech and artifacts made them hate me. Good. I''d like to see their city embedded into a mountain. That maximizes the research output of the mountain tail perfectly. "I have nothing to say to you and your flagrant destabilization of the realm."


    With a huff, leader of the Goblins picked up the hem of her dress and walked away.


    I didn''t pursue, though Crusher came forward without a moment''s hesitation, even though her guards were most certainly still keeping an eye on me.


    "They carry themselves with pride and honor that they have not earned." Crusher was covered up in a mountain of fabric. As fantastic as it would be to see him covered up in a three piece suit, his people''s formal wear was somewhere along the lines of eastern steppe culture. Vibrant robes lined with the furs of very dangerous beasts. "I thought them better than meat for their kindness towards my people, but it seems that they see us as prey to be separated from a pack."


    "Oh, we''re a pack? When did that happen?" I laughed beneath my breath, while Crusher aimed an irate look my way. He huffed when I didn''t flinch and took a swig from a mug the size of my head. I cast a glance at the leader of his people. The Deliverer was covered from head to toe in fine textiles and furs, enough to make a tent or two, yet still he looked ready to burst out of it. The man was a mountain that dominated the whole room. His knees, while seated, were at my head height. Nearly two stories tall, easy. Practically, a giant. "I think you need to apologize to the honored Deliverer, Crusher."


    That earned me another glare, but Crusher took the hint and left before anyone else took note of him standing by my side.


    It wouldn''t do to implicate the Conquerors with me at the moment.


    The Scholars weren''t pleased with me. The Guardians had little intention of letting me lead the Council of Kings. The Forgers, meanwhile, were staying neutral. Ergo, they weren''t keen on making enemies or allies. Khalia and his people were already in my corner, so one more ally would effectively make the balance hilariously lopsided. It would be four Citadels against three, therefore the Conquerors couldn''t be formally on my side.


    So, on the surface, I had one with me, two against me, and two neutral. If you counted the fact that the Academy wasn''t here, and the refusal of the Merchants to come, as two more factions who were against me¡­ that was four against me, if all out war happened.


    Mhmm, I could probably win and dominate all the Citadels with the Conquerors and the Wardens, but we''d win just to lose against the crises.


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    Unlike the game, after all, there''s no endscreen after you win that ends everything.


    With that in mind, I finished my drink, nodded, and walked forward after nodding at Khalai.


    The pleasantries were over, and now it was time to start talking to one another.


    I only hoped that I could get all these guys to share food.


    Or, if I couldn''t, get food to the people who I knew could handle the unhappiness from the extra pops.


    Thankfully, no one here could call me out for stealing speeches.


    ?


    Interlude: Crusher.


    ?


    The Deliverer was mighty in his throne and so were many others. I was at his side alongside my best, and we cast a tall shadow amongst equals. Our leader loomed like a mountain over all others, even his silence echoed across the room.


    The Keeper of the Scholars of the Skies sat on a floating throne held aloft by magics long lost and her guardians were more metal than flesh. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, and reminded me of a huntress, despite her size and stature and attire. Despite the veil of nobility and pursuit of knowledge, she was here to prepare for a coming hunt.


    The Forgers were resolute. They brought their leader on a throne of metal hammered and crafted to look like flowing sheets of silk and inlaid between those waves were innumerable stories and pictures of their people''s tales and history. Each man, even their leader, was covered in arms and armor unmatched.


    The Guardians were resurgent. Like a true people, they arose from the defeat stronger and without grudge. Their defeat strengthened them, and they stood with new weapons and armor and doctrines with their leader clad in clothes fit for a general, rather than a princess. Vigilant warriors of bone were covered in metal and they wielded strong weapons, while Blood Knights stood ready to kill all who threatened their liege.


    My eyes neared the Wardens, who were both pious and depraved, but Jack made his move and a silence befell the room in an instant.


    Not a hint of surprise was on his face as all gazes turned to him.


    He stood with his usual smile, that always reached his gaze.


    "Thank you all for coming." Careful, controlled, and practiced. He spoke into a room filled with stopped breaths, complete focus, and the gazes of dozens of trained killers. He only had one guard at his side in plain, steel armor with a sword at their waist¡­ but he was without an ounce of fear. "As you all know, this was held for the sake of speaking for the coming famine. Unfortunately, I must tell you all that even if we all work together and do our utmost, at least a quarter million people will die."


    The deaths of nearly a quarter million people uttered with a simple shake of the head.


    "The only hope for those people was the empty seats present to arrive and contribute as much as they could spare. The Merchants and the Academy told us all that they would weather the storm of famine alone. They shall and countless peoples will suffer, as they use their gold and lands to feed themselves and only themselves." The Deliverer''s hand moved to my right, just in the upper corner of my vision. He always used his mind and mouth before his body, in order to ensure his longevity. Days passed without him moving, keeping himself in his near-comatose state to live as long as he could for his people. Yet, with a few words, Jack made him turn a hand into a fist clenched with anger born from realization. "Yes. I am afraid that with their refusal to come and present a united front, we will not be confronting a mere famine. We shall be competing against them¡­ and perhaps one another. The two wealthiest nations of the land, even with my advantages in play, shall have the run of the markets and the foods brought therein."


    A voice suddenly rang through the deep silence born from the King of Wisdom''s voice.


    "Are you implying that the Academy and Merchants intend to use food as a weapon?" It was the Vampire clad in red and black with skin as pale as milk and eyes as deep a red as blood. She sat straight and upright in a chair composed of bones of hunted beasts padded by velvet pillows. Though she spoke to a man who humbled her nation, she spoke without anger or hate. No, she spoke solely as a leader who wished to make their nation proud. Not a mere beast. "That they intend to starve us all to weaken us?"


    The King of Wisdom, of course, chose the perfect answer.


    "Yes. It is what I would do in their place. It''s what any of us would do, no?" His smile at the words was small and filled with guilt, but his eyes were clear and matched each of his fellow leaders in turn. Each one met his gaze and said not a word. Not even the Deliverer. In an instant, as I grappled with my beliefs of honor, I realized the difference between those who would shape history and those who would merely play their part in it. Despite all my strength and power and might, I felt small for the first time in my life. All in the room, save for the six leaders, were miniscule in truth. "They''ll increase the prices of food. They shall watch us bicker amongst ourselves. They want us to eye each other''s stores and ignore their ''fairly bought'' foods, and they will strengthen their walls, so we can only surge for one another''s."


    This time it was the leader of the Forgers who spoke. Grey mottled a fiery red beard and a ferocious countenance, while eyes that were practically aglow like the embers of flame peaked past a heavy brow. The leader of the Forgers wore a red cape upon blackened armor inlaid with hundreds of golden lines, each one a victorious battle, and leaning against his throne of flowing steel and metal was an axe whose blade sank into stone like sand.


    "Your point has been made, King of Wisdom. You have our ears. What is to be done?" They came here as neutral parties. They arrived and stated that they would do nothing but watch and observe. Clad in powerful armor, covered in magics long thought lost, and some of their number carrying guns larger than I''d ever seen, they came solely to showcase their wares and offer their services. Yet, their leader spoke and pretended that it was his intent all along to do so. In the face of a true threat, no, in the face of words of wisdom, even an animal lusting for gold can be made into a man. "Ye know of what the Academy and Merchants intend, so what can we do against them?"


    This was the crux.


    The King of Wisdom took hold of everyone''s hearts in but a few moments, but here he could lose them without the perfect words.


    Of course, he had them.


    "Nothing more than a simple, but firm sanction against their gold for our food, and firm trade lines amongst us." With a single phrase, he sought to bind us together through gold and food¡­ through the only method in the continent that could do so. A thing that only he had, which we saw every hour of the day since we arrived. "And, of course, space upon my flying carriages for food for no cost at all for the sake of saving as many lives as possible."


    My youngest officer had feared those flying carriages being used for war.


    Instead, Jack used them for peace¡­ in a manner far more terrifying.


    He would bind us all together, and to refuse would mean starvation and defeat.

 V3: Chapter 12:

    V3: Chapter 12:


    ?


    Well, shit.


    They took the offer.


    All except the Scholars of the Skies, but they weren''t going to accept anyway, and their food outputs were garbage. Not a loss at all.


    After making sure that I reached the spot where I could talk to Ayah alone, I did.


    "Tell me that we can handle the offer, if we invest what we have."


    "We will need to stop the formation of the third army and lose expeditionary capabilities, and lose access to many opportunities, but it can be done." Ayah spoke, and I let loose a sigh of relief. Not the best sigh of relief. I was still losing out on all the money I''d saved and the money planned for a whole army. Now, I was left with only defensive armies. What I would give to have two oceans to my west and east and deserts and frostlands to my south and north. A massive river system would be fantastic, too. Hm? That sounds unfair? Who said anything about fair!? I want an overwhelming win full of cheating and underhanded strategies and ingrained advantages and so should you. Welcome to the real world, kid. "With all that in place, I project that population growth will stagnate, but it will not degrade. Enough children will come of age that the losses will be acceptable."


    "Sounds like the best that we can do with what we have, then." Thankfully, I didn''t have to choose between starving everyone or staying good in the eyes of everyone else. The Academy and the Merchants deciding not to come guaranteed that the perfect ending where the famine is just ignored couldn''t happen. They got to be the bad guys, and I didn''t have to worry about too many people being unhappy to the point of rebellion in the middle of a conflict. "We need the preparations to begin immediately. Send envoys to have the warehouses and landing strips built. Everything is standardized, correct?"


    "Correct. There should be no issues, as long as we share our current methods of having managers that can read and write and laborers who are learning. " I''m not much of an industrialist, but even I understood that you had to make everything as clear as possible so that anyone could do it, while accounting for idiots as much as possible. The world will create an even bigger idiot who can''t follow instructions eventually, but a plan that can capture and employ most of the population is still fantastic. Still, there was the issue that reading and writing weren''t common in this world. Instructions are hard to give out when the populace can''t freaking read. "I recommend giving the other nations a gift in the form of the classrooms you''ve developed."


    "Done." Giving away tech for ''free'' was a fantastic way to get increased relations with other factions, just like giving them access to the benefits of your Wonder. In-game, you needed to be allies in order to do it, since it was an easy way to get loads of friends fast and have a free early and mid-game before you stabbed people in the back. That patch wasn''t in place here, so I was going to abuse it. Have this tech that I''ve researched thanks to my advantage that I don''t need to hold over you. I know, I know. You love me now. "Also, tell our contact back home to keep an eye on the Merchants and the Academy and the Scholars. They''re up to something."


    The Scholars were probably spying for the other two and came here exclusively to do so, since the Wardens security details were maximized. Once again, I was glad that they hated my guts and wanted me dead. I was really looking forward to crashing their city into a mountain range and exploiting the tiles. If I get the right Champion to manage the city that''s exploiting the tile, I can get fifty science per turn from one tile! I didn''t know how those numbers translated into real life, but it''s going to be fantastic!


    "I will send that information back, as well. Is there anything else?" Ayah stared at me, and I wasn''t dumb enough to not take the hint.


    "I think that''s it. Tell me if I forgot anything." It couldn''t hurt to try and live up to my title, even if it was over exaggerated. Why wouldn''t I listen to an AI meant to administer over a whole nation and return the Ancients to their full glory? I''m not all-knowing. I can forget. Ayah couldn''t and had a supercomputer for a brain. I''d be an idiot not to ask. "Something on your mind?"


    "I would like to suggest maximizing the output of our aerial transportation. As you said, you will ferry food for free, but we can offer any space on return trips to the highest bidder."


    Ooh, I''m liking the sound of this.


    In fact, this sounded a lot like a special event once you got a Wonder, and those were always positive.


    "Do it. I''ll leave it to you completely. Get all that you can within reason¡­ and tell me what you can''t, so we can get some unreasonable things done, too."


    I had every intention of being the economic superpower on this continent and making sure the Academy, Scholars, and the Merchants weren''t.


    How did the saying go?


    Armies win battles, but economies win wars?


    I think that''s how it went.


    ?


    Interlude: Alistair, The Headmaster


    ?


    "Keeper Justina reports that it is likely known that she has allied with us." Belford whispered to me. My study was dimly lit by lamplight. "None approached her after she abstained from joining and she has heard reports of probes sent her city''s way."


    "It was a gambit to send them in, and it seems that we overplayed our hand with the Scholars." I allowed myself to sigh and to ruminate on the matter while ruminating over my drink. Mulled wine was no longer in season as summer was near, but I favored it, and I needed it. "What of our deal with the Merchants?"


    "They hold us at arm''s length. Our gold has bought their allegiance, but they are rapidly expanding their operations to never again need it. However, the King of Wisdom''s creation is stifling their attempts to dominate the markets." Belford''s heirloom cloak shifted as he moved and sat across my desk. A mass of shadow when using the artifact, he overcame many foes in the past with it, but not this time. "We underestimated the King of Wisdom and we should''ve struck the Scholars low, instead of trying to use them as intermediaries."


    "The Citadels are a plague on the natural order of things. The power and influence they offer should belong to and remain with the ancients." I spoke and Belford bowed his head, but I sighed. This was not the first time he tried to advise me to take one of the blasted edifices for the Academy. It was true that it offered power and might in great measure, but they were destabilizing forces. Even now, they accelerated the continent towards all-out war with weapons and stratagems that could very well end life as we all knew it. "We will make do without them."


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Belford bowed at my words, before I returned to my notes.


    The latest report on the possible outcomes of the coalition that arose was damning.


    The combined prosperity of five budding nations and six Citadels was damning, but what was more important was the means with which goods were transported between them all. Once, guarded roads and a carefully-watched coast were the only methods of transporting vast quantities across the land. Such was no longer the case. The bounties of the new nations and their exploited Ancient ruins were flying through the air, beyond the reach of the bandits¡­ and mercenaries.


    A market of immense potential and wealth, built off the output of six Citadels and the lands they loomed over, shouldn''t be possible. The lands beyond the mountains were barbaric and filled with warlords and grudges. To allow such a market to flourish would give them money and power that would threaten war to spill over the entire continent, and so my predecessors worked to prevent it from happening. Now, though, our worst dreams were realized due to the machinations of the King of Wisdom.


    He did not confront the bandits that plagued the lands, nor did he root out those who we used to ensure that no such market would exist, and ignored them entirely with his creation.


    A system of freight that was seemingly merely successful because of flight, but it was far more intricate and robust than that.


    "Every parcel accounted for. Every package sealed. Uniform addresses and coordinates. Outposts that shine beacons through the night. Rest stops. Warehouses. Uniform containers." The list went on and on. Main warehouses next to landing strips. Smaller centers where wagons can do the work. All built from parts standardized in his lands, which can be shipped through the same flying system that he created. The delivery system could deliver all the infrastructure that allowed it to be delivered as long as a length of dirt was provided next to a city. But that was not all. "And, he has even sent out entire classrooms to undercut us even further!"


    "I believe that those exist simply to ensure that he can find workers, Headmaster." Belford spoke up in a calming tone and I forced myself to take a deep breath. Yes. I could not allow all these perceived slights to bring me to ruin. I had to acknowledge that the King of Wisdom, Jack, was truly a genius never before seen. All of this was planned years in advance, before he even came to the Academy, and it was all now simply bearing fruit whilst we were at our lowest. "We can work to undercut those, if you wish. The defenses of other lands are not as strong as the King of Wisdom''s."


    "That would be foolish. It would also be foolish to start stealing and targeting their new trade routes. We and our erstwhile allies are the only culprits. It would invite war. A war that we will not lose, but one that cannot afford to win¡­ especially with what is to come." I looked at the corner of my desk. The hand composed of metal that twitched even now and the thick layer of glass which housed it. The metal emulated strands of muscle and through it ran red veins that sometimes dripped a fluid similar to blood onto the base of the stand, which siphoned it off into a vial for study. The bound limb was evidence of the Ancient''s foes, that which the King of Wisdom declared would return, and felling the singular creature ended half of the expedition''s lives. More of them existed and they were out there gathering power and would strike knowing that the Citadels have returned. "I want you to look for weaknesses to exploit. Leaders to defeat. Leaders to bring to our side. The greedy ones who wish for power, those who feel ostracized, and cultivate them and their followers to usurp those who would stand beside the King of Wisdom."


    Belford rose, but when he didn''t agree immediately, I knew what he meant to say.


    Why not take all our power and might and seize a Citadel instead, especially with what is to come?


    My hand clenched into a fist, but I forced myself to speak calmly.


    "Go now, Belford."


    "Yes, Headmaster."


    I sighed as he vanished away, and I was left to contemplate within my study.


    It remained the same as always, just as it had been with all the headmasters before me. The walls were lined with dark and tall bookshelves upon which treasured tomes sat. Curiosities from all over the world sat in glass containers, a globe of the estimated size of the globe was in one corner, and all the furnishings were the finest make. Dark woods, velvet, and brushed with gold leaf. Opulence and power radiated from every inch of the room, and I was sure that many previous headmasters luxuriated in it, but I could only feel small.


    What have I done that other Headmasters have not? True, I furthered the studies of multiple fields and enjoyed the acknowledgement of my peers, but all those who came before me did as well. They faced crises of their own, lesser than Citadels and budding aggressors, but still they succeeded, and the Academy flourished. But what of me? What of my legacy and my triumphs and my successes? Was I to be the last Headmaster of the Academy, written out of history, as the Academy became divided like spoils by warlords-in-all-but-name? Or, perhaps, I would be the last to perish as the entire continent was expunged of life as the Ancients'' foes returned?


    Was I to be the one who let the fire of civilization, elegance, and hope die?


    No thought ever brought me close to sickness before, but that singular question nearly made me heave and I set aside my most favored drink.


    "No, that cannot stand." I looked to my books, to my plans, and to my understanding of the world all upon my desk¡­ and reached for them to take what was of import and what was not. Plans filled my mind and I decided to hire more assistants, to take recruit professors, and to use the treasury that we''ve built for centuries. The famine will be surmounted, but the Citadels will persist thereafter, and the enemies of the Ancients will come forth. "The Academy will not fall. Not here. Not now. Not ever."


    As I spoke those words, I took a steadying breath and considered the suggestion of Belford once again.


    The Citadels were the cause of this chaos and destruction, but the power and might they offered were without compare.


    One with the Academy''s backing could very well be the difference between destruction and salvation.


    Despite my personal misgivings, of the first plans I would draft this eve, was regarding the seizure of a Citadel with the armies and strength of the Academy.


    Before our strength waned, before we were overcome, we would make use of our remaining strength.


    Or, all will be lost.

 V3: Chapter 13:

    V3: Chapter 13:


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    A great famine loomed on the horizon, yet instead of tilling soil and dirt, mortals made weapons of war.


    "Been a while, Khanrow."


    "Riegert." I greeted my second-in-command with a nod. We were meeting in a small outlying town on the outskirts of our bordering territory with the Guardians. In the main house of a vineyard, I looked upon seemingly endless fields of hardy grains grown from the Citadel''s gardens. It was a fantastic crop that needed less water, which could be ground into flour, and the stems and stalks could be used to make threads to weave the very packages that they would travel in. "How goes the lands between ours and the Academy''s?"


    "Skirmishes by the day. Many wounded. Some who need access to the Citadel to be healed." In our past life, that meant wounds which would make a man consider death after becoming a burden. Now, in the Citadel''s healing rooms, limbs could be returned, eyes remade, and even wounds that harmed the brain. We had two such Citadels, increasing the number of men we could rescue from such a gruesome fate, but many of our potential foes have it as well. "They''re building up mostly on the Scholar''s territory, though. It''s like you said, they held them afar to stab them in the back."


    The Academy had moved to ostracize the Citadels when they first arose. They reasoned that they were the instigators of chaos and violence in the world, and that they should be returned to slumber or destroyed. In the face of the changing times, the Academy now marched to war to seize one for themselves. With all that they already had at their disposal, with a Citadel atop that, they will rival us¡­ if we stood alone.


    "They will take the Scholars'' Citadel, but that will consign them as hypocrites and conquerors. The veil will fall away and their true colors will be revealed." The Academy held themselves as beacons of justice and righteousness in the world. For so long, they acted as though they held the brigands and warlords at bay from the heart of civilization. Behind their natural walls, with their fertile soil, and with mountain springs and underground rivers, they held an insurmountable advantage and brought low anyone else who might threaten them with duplicity. Now, though, they were brought to light. They were nothing more than a nation themselves that lusted for power. Warlords in robes and hiding daggers in tomes pretending to be better. "You will not tell Jack about this. The Scholars will never ally with us, and with the Academy unmasked, we can rally all others under our banner."


    Riegert chuckled lowly at my words.


    "You tell me to not help the Scholars, while he tells me to see if we can speed things up and get the Academy to attack sooner. The boy''s five steps ahead of us both." A weight on my shoulders that I hadn''t known fell away at my friend''s words. "A fast war is always better than a quick one. But, the question is who''ll be doing most of the killing."


    The question made me pause.


    "I believe that the Scholars will prove to be a more difficult fight, but the Academy is desperate. Not only that, but they have honor to regain and men to spare." It was the cruelty of sheer numbers and land. The Scholars were one of the last to receive their Citadel. They have only had the structure for a handful of seasons. Not only that, but those who already settled in lands with Citadels were unlikely to move once more. They enjoyed the fact that they would not make the same mistakes of those who found the Citadels, and utilize the quickest and best methods to make use of the Citadels, but everything else was depleted. "They simply don''t have the time."


    "Yeah, I think so, too. We aren''t working with warbands anymore. Skill and pride can take its toll on the enemy, but not in the Academy''s numbers against the Scholars." Riegert nodded thoughtfully and cast his gaze outwards towards our lands. There was no sign of battle, no sigh of war, and no sign of famine. Yet, in the distance we could not see, calamities waited to unfold and ravage everything we now saw. This peaceful life, surrounded by stalks of grain in every direction and roads that led to bustling towns that did not fear pillagers no hunger, will be broken in time. "I think that it doesn''t matter. They''re both going to lose. Even if we can''t move, to take those lands, someone else will."


    "True." The Merchants came to mind, but so did the Conquerors and the Guardians. The Wardens and the Forgers were too far, but if they prepared now, they could have a force there to strike when needed. A thought occurred to me as I considered that notion and turned my gaze towards the latest wagon of freight began to descend from the sky towards the small, farming town my erstwhile home had available. "But, what makes you think we can''t take the Citadel ourselves?"


    That question gave Riegert pause.


    "If we take that Citadel, then we will lose all our allies and turn the continent to our enemies. They will fight to their dying breath to overwhelm us, even to the point of losing to the coming threats." Riegert spoke honestly, despite what I had implied as his superior. This was one of the reasons why I kept him close. He was never afraid to advise against a course of action. "We''ll lose more by doing something, than doing nothing. It would be foolish, Ghor."


    "If we took the Citadel for ourselves, such is the case. However, if we assisted one of our allies in doing so¡­ or even someone who opposed us in the past?"


    My words made a light of understanding shine upon Riegert''s face.


    "The Guardians?"


    "Them or the Conquerors." I agreed with Riegert with a nod. "Preferably the Guardians, as they view us with suspicion now, but as Jack said they and the Conquerors are the two we can solely trust to truly ally with us. I agree."


    "¡­It''s similar to ensuring a warlord we want takes over a warband after the head and his second take to blows, but only time will tell if it can work." Riegert summarized the matter with ease and I nodded. We would have the Academy and Scholar fight one another, then facilitate an ally or a faction we wished to curry favor the victor''s spot. Our forces would come in, alongside theirs, and settle the matter under whatever pretense we could. The Guardians were ideal, as they confronted us time and time again for our power, and we would validate our stance as peacekeepers by empowering them and entrusting them. "But, if it works, we prove that we''re no budding hegemon and we make a counterbalance to us that can be reasoned with."


    "Sometimes, a rival is better than a friend. Our nations will push against one another, and we still hold the advantage of having more friends than them." The Conquerors and the Wardens will both simmer at not being chosen to take a Citadel for themselves, but what choice will they have besides stay close to us when there is an opposing force that could overwhelm them without us? "Let''s see if we can sow the seeds."


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Riegert gave a nod at my words, and I felt a calm wash over me.


    This was what I knew, and I had confidence in my own ability.


    ¡­


    Ah, shit, Khanrow''s on the hardcore difficulty setting and he''s going for the throat.


    And, I thought that I''d just let the famine play out, but I guess the window''s there.


    "Hey, Ayah, looks like you made the right call to start storing some food. We''re facilitating the Guardians sweeping in for the kill when the Academy tries to take the Scholars'' Citadel." I leaned against my staff, while Ayah walked up to me and took the message from my hands. My guards, along with Rita and Ilych and Sirena, were scoping out the last ruin in our territory. We''d finished the Singing Stones tech, which unveiled loads of other ruins. In the game, the tech just spawned new ruins in your territory. In reality, it allowed access to ruins by figuring out how the ruins with closed doors could be opened. After we take the rest of these ruins, we''ll only be getting Artifacts through trade, quests, and making them ourselves. Only quests were worth it. The other two were money sinks. "Think that it''ll work out?"


    It''s been a turn since I returned from the Wardens'' lands. Khalai sent letters very week, and every month I received a saucy portrait from him. The day photography gets figured out again, I''m sure that he''ll be sending whole magazines along with his weekly letters. You''d think it''d be bad enough the Sirena was sent along to protect and ''tend'' to me as an honored friend of the Wardens, but no. The very slender, white-haired, and dark-skinned leader of the Wardens still insisted on trying to seduce me through long-distance mail.


    "If they are provided food, they can send more of their Necromancers into the fight." Ayah''s answer was succinct. Since we were in home territory, and trusted people, the Ancient Administrator was in its usual getup as a servant. It was the classical maid outfit with the long skirt, frills, sensible shoes, the whole nine yards. After living with the Wardens for a long time, it was refreshing to look at someone so covered up. "With their current level of firearms and equipment, as well as the size of their army, they can march and take the lands with utmost ease."


    "Careful, you might jinx them." I took the letter back and read it over again. While I normally played the part of king, Khanrow was my real boss, even if only a select people knew. His orders were something that I needed to make happen. Something that I needed to line up all my goals with. The fact that I had so much leeway to get whatever he wanted done was a blessing. "Hm, well. There''s another way to help them that might not need our strategic reserves."


    "Oh?"


    "An assassination team. One that''ll take a whole Citadel." Riegert and the other Champion we''d hired could hold the line and provide bonuses from our two Citadels, while Ilych, Rita, and Sirena went in with support from Citadel Guardians stored on ice. Essentially, we were going to move a ton of firepower into one location and letting it rip, until only the people we sent in was left standing. In-game, you couldn''t do it against the last Citadels that just opened up for fairness sake, but those rules and a load of others weren''t in effect. "Rita, Ilych, Sirena, and the rest of the transport filled with Citadel Guardians, sent straight in to decapitate the Scholar''s Citadel and kill their leader. It''ll keep a lot of¡­ undead from being wasted."


    There was a deep, rumbling sound and sudden movement from the ruin that we were observing. A second later, the massive stone doors rushed open, and out came flying the carcass of a troll. The three-story tall monster with a hide that could deter steel smashed into a line of trees and broke through them with speed and weight. Nothing else, of course, since the massive creature was already dead with a deep gouge from neck to crotch.


    As the corpse cooled, the party I sent to explore came back out.


    Ilych was covered in blood, but her sword was already drinking it and strengthening itself. Since I''d last seen her, she''d grown another half-foot. She was definitely half-giant and she''ll be closer to ten feet than nine by maturity. She and Rita had kept up the artifact search and found some good stuff while going out there. Now, Ilych sported a dark black coat that gave her thirty-percent evasion and magical resistance, atop a set of plate armor that was like her sword: the more she killed, the stronger it got. You''d think stronger armor meant higher defense, but that wasn''t the case. The Crow Fiend''s Armor gave her more attack speed and movement speed, and the defense was ''only'' standard T2 Champion level.


    Essentially, she''s gone from murder blender that can decide battles to an army killer that can wade into full-stacks and come out with full health after killing everything in her way. Well, she''ll need to max out before doing that against endgame army stacks, but she''ll get there. The rogue-like champion''s either completely shit or completely broken, and I counted my blessings that the side I''m on got the latter.


    Rita received some modest upgrades, too, but nothing as impressive. Better bow for higher attack values and longer range. An upgraded cloak of invisibility rather than concealment. Things like that. Sirena got outfitted too by the Wardens, and even though she got stronger, every upgrade seemed to take more coverage off her. At this rate, even though she''s the trio''s tank, she''ll be sporting a metal slingshot bikini while holding a shield against a city-killing, fiery, demonic titan¡­ and not be in danger in the slightest.


    Meanwhile, I got nothing and was basically the pocket medic for the party.


    Anyway, Ayah was quiet as the rest of the group approached us with their findings in tow.


    Even from where I looked down at the group, I could see that the Ancient guns I''d wanted were nowhere to be sound, so RNG was fucking me again.


    "¡­They will need a capable healer for such an endeavor. You are the sole individual who can suffice."


    I took a moment to blink.


    Ayah was right.


    "Scratch that plan, then. I''m not going in on a suicide mission." Ayah nodded at my words, and I wiped sweat off my brow as I evaded that bullet. The Ancient Administrator was right. Even with Citadel Guardians supporting the three, they''d need someone to patch them up to get things done with the highest chance of success, or at least enable them to retreat if things went south. I was the best outfitted for the job¡­ and that meant the job wasn''t happening. "We''ll come up with another way to help things along."


    "Understood. I''ll formulate a stratagem and inform you."


    "Thanks."


    The masculine urge to party up and kill my way to getting strategic assets was high, but I had to be honest with myself: I''m shit at fighting, I''d only slow the three down, and if I die¡­ well¡­ I''ll die.


    Too much of a risk, in all honesty, for me to tolerate.


    Yeah, that''s totally the issue.


    Not the fact that I hadn''t planned to go in the first place, nor the fact I thought exchanging my frontline champions for a third Citadel was a good trade, since it''s early enough to find and raise replacements.


    Gotta dial back the powergaming, even with all the apocalypses in the horizon.


    Man, I''m fucked up.

 V3: Chapter 14:

    V3: Chapter 14:


    ?


    Interlude: Rita:


    The mission had been simple.


    Ascertain the backline of the Academy, as they engaged the Scholars in a bid to take their Citadel.


    I went forth with a simple plan. Create a network of informants, determine the number of logistical key points that the Academy had, and make plans to create dilemmas. The Academy shouldn''t win too quickly against the Scholars, and neither should the Scholars be victorious against the Academy. The goal was to have both sides fight one another until they were so weak that they could be overtaken with ease by a third faction.


    And, so, I went forth with every intention to succeed at the simple mission.


    Instead, I looked upon the heartland of the continent, from which the majority of its resources came, aflame in a blazing inferno.


    Clad in a disguise, in a town just outside of the Academy''s capital, I yelled into the streets.


    "Onto the wagons! Get onto the wagons now!" The fields were aflame, and the firebreaks were barely holding back the inferno from the town. The thickets we''d doused with water were already overcome. The wind was turning against us and smoke was starting to fill the town and embers were starting to float through the air. The summer heat was rapidly increasing as moisture was robbed from the air and the heat began to intensify. "Move! There is no more time! Save your lives!"


    I had seized control of the town and taken its garrison under my command when the mayor had been gripped by panic when the flaming projectiles fell from the sky. When he regained his senses, he became my lieutenant and organized the rapid evacuation with all the ability he could muster. Even now, in the distance, I saw him lifting children onto wagons. Wagons filled with water, food, and with one of the few mages in the town who could ward off the smoke and heat.


    A good man.


    There was a constant rush of footfalls, the creaking of wood, and the panicked breathing of horses, but the most deafening sound was the roar of the inferno surrounding the town and the chorus it created. I heard the wind crackle and pop in every direction, the braying and squealing of animals that were trapped by flame, and if I listened hard the pleading of people trapped in smoke that stopped mere moments after.


    Not everyone could be saved.


    Not from the attack made by the Scholars.


    They had been silent at the declaration of war made against them, they had withdrawn their forces to their Citadel, and when Academy troops marched, they found many villages and outposts in construction abandoned. Many believed that the Scholars would put up a token battle to retain their honor and become absorbed by the Academy. If such were the case, my purpose here was to disrupt the Academy enough so that the Scholars would choose to try for victory by repelling the Academy.


    We were wrong.


    And, as that thought screamed across my mind, I saw something massive break through the clouds.


    A flying city. One of the last. Weaponized¡­ and now falling from the skies.


    The Academy had launched their own attack against the massive structure. Pegasus riders, Mages, Sorcerers, and even Wyverns. They copied our king''s creation and created vessels to fly troops onto the city and laid siege to it as it flew into the clouds. That all began four days ago and the skies had rained corpses, broken bodies, and burnt wooden frames for three days.


    Today the battle was decided.


    Once again, the Scholars made a decision that only they could, as cornered and lacking in any allies as they were.


    The massive burning city was set to crash upon the Academy''s capital. Spires of knowledge and temples of study, reinforced to act as makeshift military buildings, were in ruins and blazing. The massive hull of the flying city was also aflame, and the ancient engines that powered it were propelling all of its mass downward. A city that once housed almost a million people surged from the skies onto the Academy capital as the Academy''s entire land burned around it. Idly, in the back of my mind, I recalled stories of the giant creatures in the sea that dwarfed ships. The flying city looked like that, but composed of metal and with a city on its back.


    And, it was crashing into the capital in the distance.


    The great prow of the massive construct crashed into the capital and the whole skyline changed in an instant. The impact alone blew apart many towering structures and a great gush of earth and stone surged into the air. The flying construct broke apart at impact, crumpling against the earth and against the Academy''s capital, and great hunks of it fell upon the city. The ''wings'' that it used fell like guillotines upon the city, shattering and cutting through whole city blocks, while the main body shed building-sized chunks that broke through building after building.


    Then, suddenly, the ancient engines at the back of flying city, still held aloft, suddenly flared a bright, white light.


    "Take cover!"


    Somebody yelled, or so I thought, until I realized it was my own voice.


    I ran and took all whom I could with me. My magic carried me quickly and swiftly and I dragged as many as I could to the nearest, solid structure.


    Then, there was a noise like thunder amplified a thousand-fold, a great wind that drowned even the noise of the raging inferno, and then impossible amounts of force and heat.


    All I could do was protect myself with my power, and when I opened my eyes after it all, nothing was left around me.


    Not the people I tried to save in the last moment.


    Nor those who were in the wagons protected by the few mages present.


    It was all gone¡­ and in the distance there was where the Academy''s capital once stood was a flaming inferno of death and despair.


    As I looked upon it all, I came to a simple realization: this was what awaited us all, this madness, this despair, and this destruction, if this continent was not ruled by our lord.


    ?


    I''ve seen plenty of battles in this world.


    Hell, I was there was the Children of the Elm fought for their Citadel from start to finish.


    However, that wasn''t all.


    I also ventured with a warband for most of my childhood, and I went to watch the battles, while everyone else stayed behind. Some soldiers offered to teach me how to fight when I got stronger, but I hadn''t gone there because of some hyper-masculine urge to defeat my enemies and hear the lamentations of their women. I was set to be scrawny from the get-go, even before the malnutrition kicked in, so I went to study, to learn, and to understand a bit more of the world that I found myself in through the violence that they inflicted on one another.


    This is the part where I should say that I have modern techniques, knowledge, and out-of-the-box thinking that they don''t.


    But that''s not the truth in the slightest.


    The people of this world have been fighting for hundreds of years against one another in order to live, triumph, and find glory. This continent wasn''t filled with kingdoms who''ve been at peace for centuries and never wanted for anything, therefore they only had force to get the resources that they needed. They fought, they died, they killed, they learned, they adapted, they changed, they innovated, they implemented, they passed down their techniques, and they became strong.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The battles that I watched by warbands were brutal. They fought over the right to control swathes of territory for protection money. There was no dance of tactics between mercenary groups hired by nations who just wanted a quick buck. The fights were to the death, with no quarter given, while men ran around covered in blood, either theirs or the enemies, and beat each other to death in formations while crows circled overhead and waited. While kids like me waited to see what loot the soldiers would leave behind, after they won, and the warlord took another town or three in exchange for a few hundred lives.


    They flanked their enemies, they used skirmishers to disrupt formations, they staggered their lines and created concaves. Mages scooted and shot. Archer formations took hills and rained death. If there was time, engineers would build siege weapons onsite and deploy them into battle. Cavalry would be used to either ambush or as shock troops. Small squads were sent in the backline to try and gut logistics or cause dilemmas that the enemy had to find answers to.


    People in this world fought to the best of their ability, using every unfair advantage that they could, therefore I only had one real advantage in this world: information.


    Knowing what''s ahead.


    Knowing what''s possible.


    Knowing how to use a situation to my advantage.


    In the end, though, I realized that I barely even had that.


    ?


    In-game, cities start to spread over tiles the more population and improvements you make on it. Districts fill out, factories enlarge, and tile improvements are subsumed and mixed into the singular city. If you went tall, not investing into villages besides what''s needed to exploit their tiles, you end up with a massive, sprawling city surrounding your Citadel. The largest I''ve ''seen'' was around twenty-four tiles in every direction.


    Right now, it would take two days for an infantry-based army to march through my city from one end to another, without any improvements, and it was nigh impossible to siege with a single army. The city was a centralization of power, wealth, production, education. Medicine and care were both freely available, and anyone who could work and was willing could make money, so it was only natural that the region around the Citadel would become a metropolis. A center of the arts, of education, of industry, and innovation, which would take the world around it and exploit every inch within its reach.


    The population was booming, they were happy, and I needed to keep it that way.


    It was proving harder than expected, since the Scholars decided to throw a wrench into everyone''s plans.


    Mine included.


    My office was turned into a makeshift command center to handle the sudden crisis that arose, which came in the form of a massive deluge of refugees coming towards both Talon Hills and the Children of the Elm''s former lands. The Scholars saw what was coming for them, saw that they''d fail if they took any logical moves, and upended the board. They didn''t just surprise everyone else, but also me, because even from my perspective what the did what impossible. But, in reality, it was possible and the results of it were staring me in the face in the horizon still filled with a dull orange glow and dark clouds.


    The Scholars turned their flying city into a weapon of war and set the Academy''s lands alight, before crashing it into the Academy''s capital, after deciding to entrench themselves in their Citadel.


    I mean, it made sense. They just moved all their important stuff into the massive, indestructible building, and use the old thing like a massive weapon.


    Why not?


    In reality, it should''ve been obvious.


    In game, it would''ve been abused, so it wasn''t available.


    I only had myself to blame for not expecting anyone else to think outside the box and do something crazy when cornered.


    "The new estimates are in, my Lord." Ayah, thankfully, was handling the new issues with effortless grace. Once again, we were getting stalled from preparing food and rations for an expedition with our armies, but the coming tide of refugees wasn''t a dilemma because of that food. Instead, it was proving to be an opportunity. "The processing camps that you''ve suggested are working extremely well."


    "Good." I went ahead an industrialized the refugee processing. Now, I had to take cues from the plans of a certain, funny Austrian, but just barely. It was for the sake of national security, and the processing didn''t involve any killing. Just lots and lots of guards, clerks, temporary housing, and giving people numbers instead of names for easier processing. My military was being employed to keep things in order and get people where they needed to be. They weren''t trained to find people and make sure they''re clothed, fed, and find their way to the right place, but they were trained to follow orders, so they did it just fine. "What''s the estimates?"


    "As you instructed, they have all been stratified into levels of desirable skills. Manual laborers, professionals, and those with talent. A point system has been made and costs of the camp have been lowered by using those points as a temporary currency that can be used for items and faster exit." I''d read this technique in a zombie apocalypse book. Certain place, I couldn''t recall exactly, found itself with loads of people stuck doing nothing despite being secure. People were classified, looked through for worthwhile skills and talent, and everyone else went to go retrained, do manual labor, or hold a gun. Perfect for my situation. "We will have schoolhouses in every village and town at our disposal. We won''t be wanting for any glassmakers, blacksmiths, and textile workers, either. The issue lies with the manual laborers¡­"


    "Some used to be nobility, and expect to be nobility, even though they have nothing." The Academy had been the dominant hegemon of the continent before the Citadels arose. It was only natural they''d have a lot of stuck up pricks with lots of money over there. Now, those people didn''t have money, but they were still vipers. They''ve trained their whole lives to lie, cheat, steal, and use other people. Not only that, but they were surrounded by their own countrymen. If nothing was done about them, I could see some people interfering with my society just to get what they wanted. Some would want money and their former lives, but some would want a seat at the table. Yeah. That wasn''t happening. "Find the reasonable ones. We need people who can read, write, and tend to our smaller towns and villages¡­ but it''s more important to not have any rebels or opportunities. Do what needs to be done to keep stability."


    "Yes, my Lord." Ayah bowed at my words, while I turned my attention back to my office. More tables had been shuffled in. Whole carts of papers of reports were streaming in. I had to scavenge some of the upper classes of my university to get enough people to just read through and summarize the reports. The longer I looked, the more I realized that there was another part of the game that had slipped me by: all the information that I wanted to act upon was beyond my ability to manage.


    I had lot to delegate.


    And, I had a lot of well-read, educated people on my doorstep.


    Well... neat.

 V3: Chapter 15:

    V3: Chapter 15:


    ?


    Most people had to contend with epic battles, terrible situations, and ethical dilemmas for their big issues.


    Me?


    I cleaned up other people''s messes, scavenged, and did my best to make use of what was left.


    The more things changed¡­ yadda, yadda, yadda.


    I''m not going to pretend that my current life is just as bad as being a battlefield scavenger. I''m not an idiot.


    Anyway, my manager finally caught up with me after I decided to go for a friendly walk a little past the border between my lands and what was once the Academy, which was still aflame and cast everything in a dark orange hue in the noon sun.


    "What are you doing here, Jack?" Khanrow growled at me, while I lowered the small telescope I was using to spy into Academy lands. Behind us was the fortress/gate that I''d had covered via landslide the last time we were here. It flew my sigil in blue and gold. Since those were protagonist colors, I''d hoped that they''d work out for me, but they weren''t looking too hot thanks to the soot, ash, and amber tint to¡­ everything. "You risk much by taking this much from our forces when all is in chaos."


    Khanrow had a point.


    I''d taken my guards over here, along with volunteers, and a lot volunteered to come. Some were regular citizenry slapped into logistical duties, just driving wagons of supplies back and forth, but a more than a few hundred soldiers decided to get up and join me. Their fellows are going to kick their ass when they come back, if I didn''t work them hard, so I was.


    Anyway, if I just came here for a stroll, Khanrow would have a point.


    "I''m here to get some additional, fertile land, and to screen the refugees. I''d like your help on that, by the way. Do your thing and find out if people are reasonable or not. If they''re not, do what you need to do." I answered Khanrow as bluntly as I could. I was already in hot water for what I did, so there was no helping it. I''d gone ahead and took a portion of the military and a lot of laborers, supplied them with money from the treasury, and gone into foreign lands. If I couldn''t convince him to stick around, I may as well kiss my head goodbye, because I''d just acted like I was king when I wasn''t. "Rita''s doing a decent job, but her teacher''ll be better, right?"


    Khanrow was quiet for a second, and looked at me like he was trying to find something out.


    I stayed calm.


    It wasn''t like he''d make any guesses that would lead him to figure out that I''ve had a whole other life that played this entire world as a video game.


    "¡­You have overextended your authority, but the logic is acceptable. Do not do this again, Jack." He said my name again, but there was something weird about it. Eh, I was probably just imagining things. Or, the smoke might be getting to me. Probably the latter. "I will aid in processing the refugees. However, you will be the one finding places for them. The camps you''ve constructed cannot take all of the Academy in and this outpost is attracting them all like moths to a flame."


    "Who said anything about processing them and including them in our lands? They''re staying right here. Look there''s already a castle over there to provide shelter and protection and a military garrison. Not only that, but the walls are already coming up. Monsters won''t be a problem." This was my bid to clean up the current mess. Instead of letting the tide spill over, we''re going to implement two ''filters'' against the tide of refugees, I was going to go ahead and support them and make them stay here, while taking my pick of the litter. Those who slip through go to the facilities we''ve set up. Not only that, but this way, those who I take along will be able to send money back here, to their ''homeland,'' which can rebuild while I use their services. Brain drain combined with the overseas foreign worker scheme. Perfect. "We''ll take the best of them, use them, and pay them to send money back here. They''ll be under income tax, of course, so we''ll take our own cut."


    Technically, I held all the power in this relationship, so I could just enslave them and get away with it by providing them with food and housing. This messed up world would actually sing my praises if I did that. However, I wasn''t going to waste all this talent and skill by enslaving people and making them manual labor. People who are paid, who have money to sink something into, and who can take care of themselves are more productive, especially in jobs that require the usage of a brain. As a result, I''ll look even better in the eyes of the rest of the world, get productive and happy workers, and the remains of the Academy will be beholden to me.


    In my opinion, it''s a pretty good plan.


    Lots of benefits, less refugees on my doorstep, and I get the brains and skills that I need to process things a lot faster.


    Khanrow looked at me for a while longer after I said my piece.


    Though I was worried that he''d change his mind, have my head chopped off, and retake his position¡­ he instead gave me a nod.


    "Do your job well and we shall have no problems."


    Yessir! Thank you for letting me keep my head after taking a lot of money, manpower, and time from our reserves!


    "Of course."


    My foreign worker supply is secured!


    Legally. That is.


    Physically?


    Yeah, that''ll take a while.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    I raised an eyebrow as Gilbert took a seat, ordered a mug of ale, and downed it all before speaking to me.


    "Where the hell did you find that monster?"


    "Careful now, he might hear you." I chuckled and shook my head. We were in the makeshift inn constructed in the refugee town that Jack was rapidly assembling. Most of its customers were soldiers and people from the capital who were making money hand over fist for this dangerous excursion. However, all of the workers, save for the innkeeper, were of the Academy''s people. Already, Jack''s methods were saving those who remained. "He''s got sharp ears. He can hear through walls."


    Gilbert blinked at my words and looked frightfully all around him¡­ until I laughed lowly.


    He scowled at me and crossed his arms, before ordering another mug.


    "That was in poor taste, teacher, especially after I met that¡­ that¡­"


    "King. Emperor. Royalty." I corrected Gilbert simply, and he blinked at me. I lowered the journal in which I was reading the latest reports in ciphers. "That boy was born and destined to be a lord of all that he surveyed the moment he was born. A legend from first breath, despite the circumstances of his birth. Use that as context, and you can understand him better. Seeing him as a child is foolish¡­ no, it would be a fatal error."


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "So, the mark of a royalty is to look upon the madness of the world and make use of it?"


    "No. Royalty is to look upon the world and to carve it''s destiny with a word." Once, I aspired to such greatness in my delusions. I believed in my talent, skill, ability, and experience as a lord of war and keeper and taker of secrets. Now, I know better. Those two alone did not make a king. Monarchs and royalty and their equals used the entirety of a nation like weapons against foes of equal stature. Their gaze alone could elevate one to the highest standing, or cause those of incredible power to fall from the greatest heights. "You and I tend to matter of the body and mind. We strike at the bodies of others to kill them, and rip what we need from their skulls. Our duty is to be unseen, to pave the way forward, and provide information."


    "You told me that¡­ he was your subordinate." Gilbert chose his words carefully. Whether he refrained from calling Jack king or as a boy, I did not know. Not until he glanced around the inn filled with loyal men and women. Youthful, with plenty to their name, talent, and with long lives¡­ all here the moment their king asked for volunteers. The pay was good, but most would not come into a blasted inferno rapidly filling with monsters. "That doesn''t seem to be the case, teacher."


    "I bound him to me with threat of death. He respects that, but I can see in his eyes whenever we meet that he has plans to change that. Plans he holds back, because he wishes to keep my services." I admitted the truth. No weight lifted from my shoulders. It was a fact. Like stating the sun would rise when morning came and dawn as night approached. "You saw it, too? Didn''t you?"


    "¡­aye, I did. Every word I spoke felt like I was trying to squeeze it through a vice. He was alone with me, unarmed, yet I had to summon courage with every word." Gilbert took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. His countenance transformed into that of a child''s for a moment, before he shook his head and returned to his mask. "I need to prove myself worthy to him, don''t I?"


    "You already have, if he did not mention your disguise." Gilbert stiffened, his moment of relaxation fading, and I stroked my beard and raised my brow. "I watched the two of you talk. He didn''t speak to you as he did with me. Not once did he even call you his lord¡­ or by my name. He''ll do it the next time you meet, but did you not notice it this time?"


    "I did not." Gilbert growled, but his anger was aimed at himself. He took another steadying breath, before nodding. "I see. Knowing that he knows is comforting in truth."


    "Indeed, it is. Now, what mission did he give you?"


    "He instructed me to aid Rita in processing those who arrive. Ah, he knows how we are training her."


    "It would be strange if he did not." I nodded, before setting that matter aside for later. Jack''s silence on the matter was his method of leaving matters to me. A form of trust, in a way. "We will search for those who may wish to make use of the refugees. This budding state will grow in power and might and will have claim over all of the Academy''s lands. We must ensure that it is ours."


    Gilbert looked suitably shocked at my words as I gave him that revelation.


    "He''s planned that far ahead? It will take decades to accomplish." Gilbert uttered the words, but the moment they left his tongue, he realized his own folly. "No. That''s exactly what he must do. Correct?"


    "Indeed. He has marked this land as that of the Academy''s, but our men and our supplies are everywhere. They will be beholden to us as we aid them in reconstructing their lands, and ensure that they are not paupered. All here will know who to trust¡­ and those who have left them to die." The minds of mortals were simple when faced with danger. Old grudges, alliances, loves, and hatreds faded away in the fires of destruction and despair. The Academy had no love for us and Jack, but now we were here, while others were not. Our objectives were obvious, but so were their needs, and we were here to provide.


    I already saw what was to come.


    The lands of the Academy were going to be beset and divided amongst those who have Citadels, as soon as they realized what Jack intended. His hope was to create a state beholden to him, a land whose honor and prestige would be called into question for refusing any of his requests. It will be a state in every respect, but beholden to us, and our firm ally.


    They raised their hand against us, yet now they were to become an ally.


    It was almost impossible to believe, but Jack made the impossible possible time and time again.


    Once again, I looked from my ciphers and what was already present.


    The makeshift inn was made in less than a day from wood carved and shaped and packed from a land more than several days'' march away. It was flowing here practically overnight, along with all the rest of the structures behind erected, and food and water were both arriving to service the populace. Prepacked rations were being handed out, originally meant for troops, but perfect for the refugees and the budding town around them.


    How long until this was the only city on Academy soil?


    How long until these people reclaim their land?


    How long until we find ourselves with an Academy that is our ally instead of our foe?


    Will I live to see it?


    Will it come soon enough for the trials to come?


    Only time will give me the answers that I seek, and I hoped to see what would become of the world, despite the horrors that I witnessed over the course of the last month.


    "Teacher, can I ask for your assistance in my current mission?" Gilbert drew me from my reverie and I nodded. He was humbled, but still hungry to improve. There was no hint of hate in his eyes. Thomas truly raised a great child. "I''d like to see you work."


    "Of course, let us sharpen our skills together and pave the way forward." Once, I would hate being beneath another. All that I''ve done, all that I''ve achieved, and subordinate to another? My pride would demand that I rise and take all that I was owed simply to validate all that I endured and accomplished. Now, as I rose from my table and walked towards a once-prosperous land scorched into ash and rapidly swarming with monsters from below, while a famine loomed ahead of us all¡­ I felt only relief with the duty that I had. "Jack may be able to shape the world with a word, but he cannot do it without us."


    "Yes, teacher!" Gilbert stood taller at those words and a fire lit in his eyes. We moved as a pair for a moment, before diverting to meet elsewhere and begin our duties. His back was firm and shoulders squared. Even if I only had a few years left, I could rely upon him to do what needed to be done.


    I had no reason to hold back.


    And, so, I entered the inferno with hopes that in the future I will never see such a sight again.

 V3: Epilogue

    V3: Epilogue


    ?


    Money is a tool, a resource, which needs to be used to have worth.


    Having it hang around doing nothing is stupid.


    Money should make you more money.


    Money should give you more troops.


    Money should build you the assets that you need.


    Money can be used for good.


    Money can be used for evil.


    However, in the end, the important part is that having a massive amount of money doing nothing only gives you a worthless number in the upper left corner of your screen. Money that''s not in use, is money that isn''t training units, isn''t improving tiles, isn''t building structures or wonders, and isn''t funding armies.


    In short, it''s worthless if you don''t use it.


    Sure, if you''re finishing up the game with a massive treasury while rolling everyone, it gives you style points¡­ but you need to spend money to get to that level first.


    Everything that I''ve been doing needs a lot of money, even after the investments, and everything should cripple my economy if I only had one Citadel and one Region. But I didn''t have just one. The region that formerly belonged to the Children of the Elm (Elves) was now online with a Merchant of the Marshlands Champion leading the region to boot.


    He could do a lot of things, but I went with the old rule of setting his goals to three, so that he could be more productive. I didn''t know if it worked the same as the game, but I wasn''t about to lose another advantage. He could give more production, more population, more food, more places to train troops from, more tile improvements, but I had him on: more money, more money, aaannnnnddd more money.


    They stack.


    You''d think the amount of money I wanted to squeeze out would be ludicrous, and that in reality what I asked for shouldn''t stack, however¡­ I just gave an incredibly amazing businessman a whole region, a whole Citadel, then, I told him he didn''t have to worry about funding, food, security, and shelter. Finally, I gave him the goal of making stupid amounts of money, give him the right to cross borders, use my reputation, and call on me for any challenges that popped up ahead of him.


    Yeah.


    I gave that all to a Merchant Champion.


    Needless to say: Capitalism go brrrr.


    ?


    "We are¡­ neither making money or losing money."


    "Perfect." I was tempted to celebrate, pop open some wine, and drink. The little city-state I was making took ridiculous amounts of cash and labor. According to Ayah''s estimates, I could''ve built another continent-spanning transportation system with all that money, or an entire stack of military units capable of putting the hurt on someone. Instead, it went into making Academy 2: Academy Harder. "How are things going there?"


    I had to relocate back to the Citadel after a few weeks onsite doing spot-checks and laying the groundwork. Once the workflow was set up, and I got people who could read and follow directions onsite, I just let the process work itself out. Problems arose, naturally, but they went up the chain of command and I only dealt with a few of them, while the rest were filtered through the officials instated therein. By all accounts, Academy-2 was having teething issues just like any other city, but things were progressing and that was all that I could ask for them to do.


    Besides, they had bars, they had money flowing in for them to earn, beds, and no issues with food or running water.


    Even if I was technically occupying their land, they should be at 2 Happiness or something.


    But that''s beside the point.


    "The city-state is expanding and now claiming nearby farmland. The firestorm has abated and the rivers are starting to run clear. The first culling of monsters is set to begin. The Conquerors, Guardians, and the Wardens have offered their support¡­ on the basis that they have districts in what we have established." Ayah read off the report, while I contemplated a bottle of wine on a nearby tray with some glasses and snacks. It wasn''t even my physical age stopping me. It was the fact that some random events led to Champions developing alcoholism and that trait having the chance to get someone killed outright because they lost focus and got assassinated. Getting drunk sounded fun, but dying because I''m drunk? Yeah. Not good. "The Merchants have moved in from their entrance, as have the Forgers, and they are establishing themselves¡­ poorly."


    "They tried to do the same but forgot they didn''t have a whole other region making tons of money." Sarala, the Merchant Champion that guided the Children''s former region and Citadel, was doing exactly what I expected of his archetype in-game. No military production buildings, no research production buildings, and no culture buildings. Just exploiting resource tiles, building workshops to help produce happiness-increasing buildings and expand, and sending out trade caravans in every direction to anyone willing. He sent me letters asking for my involvement, which I recognized as money-making events, and I gave him the right answers and courses of action, so that we kept getting more money. His letters have gotten more and more deferring and reverent over the last couple months, so I took that as a sign that I proved myself to him. "Give them plots to use and send expeditions from that are near the city. Keep them away from one another and make sure they have their own sources of water and food. No sharing required."


    "Understood." Ayah wrote out my requirements with precision, and then paused. I looked up at the Ancient Golem. That was not normal. "I have finished calculating the number of years we have left before we see movement from the Ancient''s foes."


    Right, I had Ayah on that.


    It wasn''t some sort of magical sensor net, but rather feeding it the information on the current rate of economic growth that all the factions were currently undergoing. Crises arrived on two conditions: a turn limit was reached, or if the average economy of all the factions hits a threshold. I gave Ayah the reasoning that the enemy will attack us before we get our bearing, before we could drown them in manpower and industry, and that was enough to have the black-haired Golem agree to put a lot of its processing power behind the calculations and read through all of the information we had on the other factions and ourselves.


    "Hit me with it."


    "We have three years at most. Two at the least."


    "Not great, but not terrible." I was quick to respond. That was about what I expected from my own experience and understanding of the situation. "We''ll be able to recover from the Famine, at least, before we start seeing them all come along."


    I hoped that Ayah would just nod and agree with my statement, but it shook its head.


    "Not with the loss of the Academy fields. We are farming at this very moment and conquering as much as we can, but it will not be enough." I had hoped that wasn''t the case. I''d hoped that establishing the fortified city would make things a bit easier and counter-act the issue. Well, actually, I''d also hoped that enough people died that there''d be enough food for everyone. Looks like that wasn''t the case. "If we had not moved and entered the Academy lands to save¡ª


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "That wasn''t an option." I waved aside the statement Ayah was set to make. I was sure that the Ancient Golem ground out those numbers without any issue. Agonizing over mistakes was only going to waste time. No. After hearing that the famine''s aftereffects weren''t going to abate before the first stages of the coming crises arrived, there was only one course of action left: I needed a third Citadel, and the Scholars were reviled by the whole continent and lost their trump card. "We need to hold a meeting with everyone willing to ally with us. The Scholars caused this mess, therefore they''ll be the ones to pay for it."


    The Scholars were cornered and had no other option after they were set up to take the fall and betrayed by the Academy with everyone else waiting to third-party them.


    Some would say that they did what they needed to do in order to survive¡­ but Ayah wasn''t the type to lie and it crunched the numbers.


    If I didn''t take another Citadel and get the automatic technology unlocks form having three Citadels, then we''re all going to get fucked. If we''re going to be still weakened by the famine, I needed the weapons, armor, and technologies provided by the Ancients. Even if it meant making myself the biggest target on the continent, and with all my allies becoming temporary, I have no choice in the matter.


    Between dying in the next five years or having to fight everyone and standing above them all with a military victory in ten, the choice was easy.


    War it is.


    After softening up the enemy as much as possible, naturally.


    A fair fight?


    With my life and many, many of my citizenry''s lives on the line?


    Fuck that, I''m going to cheat.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert


    ?


    "Captain."


    "Gunther. Oswald." I peered through the darkness and met their gaze in the dim darkness. "Fire."


    "Ember." Gunter gave his code.


    "Ash." Oswald replied with his.


    I relaxed and nodded again at them, as I got off the boat. The moon''s shine was dimmed by light clouds and even the stars seemed to glimmer less this evening. My soldiers came off the boat and put down the stakes to moor them to the shoreline.


    In the dead of night, at the height of summer, the winds blew across the forest and the lake from which I came¡­ and Gunther and Oswald both gave signals and the boundary between forest and lake came alive. More than five hundred men gathered in the heart of the enemy''s land. Gunther''s arrived quietly in the night from the air. Oswald was snuck through refugee caravans traveling through Scholar lands. Finally, me and my men floated from Academy lands towards this lake.


    The lands between the Academy and the Scholars were ravaged by war and the destruction of the Academy left the land a barren waste, as the armies of the Academy ravaged all within their reach.


    The chaos of what came after the Academy was shattered allowed us to reach the heartland of the Scholars.


    Where we were to do as we used to do.


    "The towns?"


    "Hittin'' Gretchen tonight, Captain."


    "Hilburn for me."


    "That leaves Sera for me and mine, then." Gunther and Oswald''s men travelled lightly, but mine travelled on the river with boats attached to their own. We covered the tops with leaves and even made them seem like logs floating downriver. Our forces snuck through the barren, desolate lands and arrived here to deliver our fellows their weapons. Sheathed swords, axes, and maces were aplenty, but most of all there were boxes and boxes filled with jars of a fearsome composition that Jack had headed the creation of. Glass bottles filled with lantern oil, sap, and a substance from the Citadel''s foundries. A pure white substance as light as air, easily crushed and broken apart, which melted into the oil¡­ and made the flame nearly inextinguishable. "You read up on the weapons?"


    "¡­Aye, captain. They sound terrifying." Oswald confessed and Oswald looked perturbed as the boxes were brought forward and their assigned men came forth. Each box had another within that lay in wood shavings. The substance was trapped in a light coating of wax and glass. The method of ignition was the latest variant of gunpowder composed by the alchemists that Jack had hard at work. With the pull of the safety needle, a wick that would last thirty seconds will come alight within, and after those seconds passed it would explode, set the substance within alight, and send flame and shrapnel in every direction. "If they''re half as deadly as you say¡­"


    "They''re twice as deadly. Tell all your men to never be within twenty arm lengths of one and to always throw it near the ground and never uphill. This substance is vengeance in its purest form." A carcass of a horse had been used to test the weapon. It cost more to make a single, good steel knife, but this weapon was far more fearsome. The carcass and its surroundings had come alight. It burned and burned like cursed flame, and it sloughed and stuck to flesh and bone and hide with ease. I watched a whole horse burn unceasingly, and when water was poured over it¡­ some flames lingered atop the water. "Use them to destroy granaries, warehouses, and workshops. Do not use them against enemies. It will kill any normal mortal with ease."


    I doubted my ability to survive a single one of the weapons going off of me, despite all my prowess and all my artifacts.


    I did not wish to test myself against this fearsome ''napalm.''


    "Understood, Captain." Gunther cleared his throat and gestured at the brightening sky. The clouds had parted and we could see one another in the moonlight with ease. "Shall we move?"


    "Aye, it''s time to move. Once the villages are hit and all the weapons are used, we will retreat here and we will be retrieved." Before dawn even arrived, we were going to be flying away from here. The boats were set to be burned after all the men and supplies were unloaded. One evening and we will burn down three villages¡­ and Rita and Ilych were both leading their own groups of three. This singular evening, as a declaration of war, nine villages and all they had were going to burn. Their inhabitants forced to flee and multiply the mouths that the Scholars must feed in their core settlements. "See you all in the afternoon."


    "Yes, captain."


    "Captain!"


    I gave them both one last look¡­ and found no trace of fear in their eyes. All I saw was the determination to see the job done. Such was the case of all those who Jack had called upon just a few weeks ago, when he told us all what needed to be done, so that the Scholar''s actions would not kill hundreds of thousands more after burning the Academy.


    After all these years of relative peace, it was once again time for war.


    We hadn''t asked for war, we had sought out peace, but our hand is now forced.


    And, for their actions, the Scholars shall reap what they have sown.

 V4

    V4


    ?


    Fear and hunger.


    Those were my primary weapons in this conflict.


    My two armies were barely enough to keep everyone else from eyeing up my lands and trying to carve pieces of it for themselves. Sending even one of the two full-stacks patrolling my borders out would result in people going after my lands, even with the rapid response time that I had thanks to my transportation systems. I just didn''t have the manpower necessary to hold back the simulated invasions that would occur, if I decided to let down my guard.


    Sure, I''m friendly with the Orcs and the Dark Elves and neutral with the Undead, but friendships tend to peter out and die when national interests come into play. Neutrality is just another word for opportunism in many cases too, and I had no illusions that the Undead would come after my lands, if they saw weakness. Hell, everyone would come after me, if they saw weakness.


    Therefore, the best course of action was to utilize the espionage under-layer of the game, which was added in the third expansion.


    I was happy to find that espionage didn''t require research, unlike in the game.


    Yeah, I understand that assassinations of political figures would be OP in the early game, but does an entire University need to spend 16 months researching it for you to be able to do it? C''mon, devs, lower that research cost. Giving someone the Caesar treatment isn''t exactly rocket-science!


    Anyway, the espionage layer for the game focused on putting Champions in a separate layer of the map, the "Clandestine'' layer. The moved faster through the map, not instantly but still faster, and certain types of Champions had different abilities.


    Economic-focused champions could work on heists, creating corruption in the system and decreasing outputs of facilities and tiles, or siphon money. That''d be Sarala in my case. DPS/Ranged Champions like Rita were assassins in the Clandestine layer. They had the ability to assassinate people, steal research, and set up brigand groups that''ll ravage enemy improvements unless they send an army after them. The warrior-types, like Ilych and Riegert, were the worst in the Clandestine layer. All they could do was recruit mercenaries and bring along units to siege enemy towns and burn down villages and improvements. Unlike all the other Champions, if they failed, they died and couldn''t escape¡­ and if they were caught they''d have to fight with a shitty, cobbled-together army instead of a real, good deathstack.


    However, that was the meta for the game.


    In real life, all the Champions could get caught in all their projects, so sending Sarala out would be wasting his time and losing potential revenue. Rita''s time was better spent elsewhere than cultivating brigands that can be put down by a professional army with ease. That left Ilych and Riegert¡­ with the ability to burn down villages, bring along veteran troops instead of hiring mercenaries, and who could be equipped with better gear suitable for their task.


    Deniable assets that could do a lot of damage, retreat, and do everything again before they could get caught.


    Yeah, after seeing what the Goblins did, I decided to go ahead and see what shenanigans I could get away with myself.


    The game was more a guideline than anything else, a ridiculously great guideline, but the fact was that I needed to be creative and do everything that I could to win.


    And, of course, I needed to see if I could bend the rules and penalties for my strategies by testing the waters in regards to alliances.


    ?


    The land taken by the Conquerors was the region known as the Ruby Valleys. It was a desert region that wasn''t very good at agriculture, but had a lot of desert tiles which had higher chances of having strategic resources and luxury resources. The Merchants usually went out of their way to start in this region when the game began, but things were relatively vanilla in terms of starting locations this game. The Conquerors usually spawned here because they didn''t have food issues in the early game, so they could make up for their lack of economic bonuses with great tiles to exploit.


    And, they were doing just that under the Deliverer.


    The Conquerors'' Citadel was surrounded by a massive, sprawling city. Buildings made from mined, red stone were in every direction six main roads stretched out from the Citadel. Each district was separated from one another by the roads like spokes in a large wagon-wheel. Building styles were largely cosmetic in-game, but they carried more weight in reality. The Conquerors city layout was meant to ensure that the Citadel''s output reached the citizenry with ease, that their large bodies and wagons could traverse the city without issue, and if any were foolish enough to attack them, they''d be able to charge down the roads with ease and throw out their defenders.


    That''s why you always only engage the Conquerors on advantageous terrain.


    From a high altitude, where they can''t reach you, while you reign down firepower on them while your infantry are entrenched and with artillery.


    Yeah, fighting against these guys fair and square is stupid.


    Anyway, I disembarked from my flying carriage onto the Conquerors landing strip, which just finished construction. Unlike all the other cities building the shipping terminals, they build the landing strip inside their city after clearing away some temporary buildings. It was actually attached to an inner circle of road that connected the spokes going outward, which would allow supplies to flow out of it with relative ease into the rest of the city. Some people would call the action stupid, because it''d let airborne troops land in the city with infrastructure ready to receive them¡­ but no one''s stupid enough to land troops in the middle of a city surrounded by Conquerors.


    That''s just an expensive way of losing men.


    "King of Wisdom." I was addressed and met by Crusher. The Orcs didn''t have many tailors, but Crusher was high up on the totem pole that he could look fancy when needed. His clothes were vaguely reminded me of middle eastern designs, but combined with togas. Half of the massive man''s chest was exposed along with a bare arm, but the rest of him was covered in pure white and he had a deep purple sash at his waist along with a Conqueror-sized knife at his waist. "You arrived early."


    "The winds were fair." I stretched, while Ayah and the Sirena followed behind me, along with a small group of servants. This was going to be a short visit, so everyone just hopped into my attempt at a passenger airline. Making it smooth as it flew made it expensive, but it was reusable and allowed me to get places very, very fast. Months of travel time were cut down into a week or two at most. Days, if I commandeered more flying horses, mages, and pilots to fly through the night. "And, I didn''t want to impose on any of your villages."


    "They would have greeted you as an honored guest."


    "With what lies ahead? I''d rather leave being honored to people who have a Citadel under their control." Crusher snorted at my words, which made Sirena glare at him, but she sighed when I glanced her way. Over the course of the last couple of months, the Saintess was growing more attached to me. All those diplomacy lessons and practice sessions were paying off¡­ or, maybe, I was just passively gaining the traits of a diplomatic Champion in the background? Whatever the case, she would jump at anything vaguely threatening or insulting to me nowadays. "Besides, I''d have to share my gifts to the Deliverer and you, if I visited them."


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "Oh?"


    I gestured and the gift in question was taken out of the storage compartment in the back of the carriage. Though I called it a carriage, it was the size of a small bus or trolley. Small private-jet size, for sure, and that was enough to carry plenty of clothes, supplies, and diplomatic gifts¡­ even for the Conquerors.


    "Have a taste. It''s strong and only possible with new technologies." Chemistry was a pretty important T2 research project that just gave loads of improvements in-game. From basic fertilizers, to better steel, and finally things like stills for liquor, its effects were just increased yields on everything. It helped the process of changing over to a Tier 2 capable economy for players that went Wide, but the benefits were plentiful even for people playing semi-tall like me. "Alcohol distilled from grain. Unflavored. By my estimates, it can make even your people drunk with a few cups."


    "A few cups?" Crusher was surprised for the first time in memory and raised an eyebrow as he considered the large barrel. His intrigue only lasted for a second, before he tucked the barrel beneath an arm and cleared his throat and addressed me gruffly. "Enough. We make our way to the guest mansion. You and your people will rest there free of any discomfort on behalf of the Conquerors. This, I swear."


    I nodded and cast my gaze around, before looking up at the towering Citadel that stretched well into the sky.


    I gave it a wave.


    For sure, I was already being watched by people with access to its systems, so I had to make it clear that I knew that it existed.


    I needed to look a affable and wise as possible, so that I can lie my ass off nonstop in order to get what I need.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Crusher


    ¡­


    He looked upon all our works and monuments from our finest chariot and pulled by our greatest beasts¡­ and simply smiled without a hint of fear in his gaze.


    In many others, I would think delusion clouded their mind.


    To look upon a city of Conquerors built in one of the harshest of lands and thriving¡­ should invite terror in those with clear minds. Even animals and meat with the basest of instincts should feel fear and despair at our might and work.


    Yet, the King of Wisdom, waved at passing children, had us stop to purchase fruits from passing stalls, and sipped on cooled drinks purchased from passing vendors. In a city filled with Conquerors, where he could be slain with utmost ease, he lay relaxed and confident even as a Saint of the Wardens stood wary and his other guard looked upon us all and searched for the fastest way to kill us.


    Though I had sworn to myself that I would impress upon the King of Wisdom our might and power in our capital city, in order to show him that we were not to be trifled with, I found myself asking a simple question.


    "Impressed by our city?"


    As though I were a child showing a toy to a grown man.


    "Oh, yes. Very impressed. Excellent layout. Good for defense and movement." Gone was the child I''d first met all those years ago. The boy was in his sixteenth year now. He did not have the body of a warrior, but it was obvious he trained. He was taller than many other of his kin that he met. His hair was brown, shoulder length, and face bereft of blemish. Passing females of my own kind stared in secret as he passed, and I was surprised as he gazed at them with appreciation himself. He was a man grown now¡­ but that hardly mattered. No, as always, his words mattered far more. "I wouldn''t be able to take it. Yet. Congratulations."


    He bared his teeth my way with a smile closer to bared fangs.


    It was difficult to not laugh at his words.


    That charm, combined with his intellect and wisdom, were fearsome weapons.


    "None shall be able to take this city, let alone my people''s Citadel." I glared his way. Veterans of his people would flinch at my gaze, but he met my eyes with no fear. Only a smile on his face. Was it amusement? Pity? I knew not. "Even if they unleash the same horrors that you have unleashed upon the Scholars."


    "I can neither confirm nor deny such things. Though, I do believe there is an opportunity at hand against the Scholars that need to be taken." The words of the most clever and sagest of nobles left his lips with ease. The Deliverer had instructed me to learn, to improve, and to become a general. I knew enough of statesmanship to know that I knew nothing¡­ and that the King of Wisdom had no equal. Only those who tried to grasp at his feet. I needed to be better. Even the Deliverer devoted himself to improvement since the Council of Kings. "Though, you already knew that. After all, I''m here to ask if you have any issue with me laying claim to their Citadel¡­ just for a year, of course."


    And, there it was, the ideas that were indistinguishable from madness and brilliance.


    A Citadel in my people''s hands, but only after a year with it under his control, after he extracted what was necessary to overcome the coming famine.


    "The Deliverer does not believe your offer. You have the warriors necessary to hold that Citadel."


    "Not while keeping my people alive, fed, and happy, which I assure you I am very interested in." The smile on his face never faded. The accusation I sent his way, as logical and solid as the thinking behind it was, slid from him without a sign of guilt or surprise on his face. I felt like I was dancing in his palm, as though he knew everything I was ready to say, and had a counter to say against each and every word. "I know very well that having three Citadels would invite too much conflict on the continent. With what looms beyond us all, I am content with what I have and having one¡­ to whomsoever desires it."


    In other words, the King of Wisdom said thus: "Should you not take my offer, then I shall find someone who shall."


    As much as we could accuse him of future betrayal, we dealt not with him alone.


    He offered the Citadel of the Scholars to the one who would help him take it.


    So long as he could have it for a year, to produce food and crops and tools for the coming famine to send all over the continent, he would be content.


    "What do you think, Crusher? Doesn''t it seem like a good deal?" The King of Wisdom bared his teeth ever-so-slightly with that question. "Shouldn''t it be taken by your people?"


    All I could do in the face of such overwhelming, relentless power was to give ground.


    "Enough. The Deliverer shall have the right of the matter."


    "Ah, that''s too bad. I wanted to hear what you thought, Crusher. After all, what''s a little sharing of opinions between friends?"


    I grunted at the words and refused to continue speaking to him.


    If I did, I knew not what other ideas he''ll slip into my mind.

 V4: Chapter 2

    V4: Chapter 2


    ¡­


    Ideally, I won''t have to give the Conquerors the third Citadel, even after they help me take it, and force them to back down when they demand it. As the opposite scenario, where shit goes completely sideways, I''ll have to defeat the Conquerors and fortify against the whole continent as they come after me.


    Yeah, the one year time limit is a lie.


    I really have no intentions of giving the Scholars'' Citadel to anyone else.


    It''s not a matter of greed, even if it was a very greedy move, but out of logic.


    Sure, the Conquerors would be great allies to have, but the math just didn''t check out. Having them as completely-loyal allies that''ll do whatever I said, didn''t replace an entire region and a third Citadel, especially with the oncoming Crises added to the equation. A third Citadel was a massive increase every relevant form of income, unlocked certain techs free of charge permanently, and it also allowed the research of certain technologies. The famine will turn into a speed bump.


    The Conquerors are awesome. Crusher is a great guy. The Deliverer is an absolute giga-chad with a kick-ass backstory. Their culture is great, their ladies are incredible, and they''re genuinely a great ally to have. It''s a damn dream to have them as allies, acting as cavalry and heavy infantry, and fighting alongside them to the end of the game. They''re one of the few that you can keep all the way to the end of the game, and even if they win, you''re doing fine in life in their true ending, unlike most other factions.


    Still, if I picked them over the third Citadel and didn''t stab them in the back, everyone loses.


    They die, I die, and everyone else dies.


    Maybe, if there were only two Crises coming, I could afford to take the risk. It would be a fifty-fifty chance of losing, but I''d take that coinflip just to be satisfied with my choices.


    With four Crises?


    With the Academy already destroyed, the markets scattered, the Scholars on everyone''s shit list, the Merchants are trying underhanded shit, and everyone else eyeing me as a rising hegemon?


    Yeah, the choice was already made for me.


    The only path forward was to dominate the continent, bring everyone under my banner, and use everything that I could get my hands on defeat the god-awful things coming to kill us all.


    And, if I can''t do that, the old idea of running away to find an island to live on for as long as possible sounded great, too.


    If you can''t win a fight to the death¡­ run the fuck away!


    ¡­


    After the brief tour with the Conquerors capital, I was able to give decent estimates on their capabilities. Citizenry were probably at the satisfied level, not that much positive happiness, but it was positive. Industry-wise, they had a whole district filled with foundries and manufacturing buildings. Food wasn''t an issue, as evidenced by the fact there were loads of their kids running around, and usually those guys were in ''sleep mode'' when food wasn''t readily available. Though I couldn''t see their military firsthand, there were plenty of bulletin boards around that asked for people to enlist, notices for a draft, and the parks had sections to practice archery and fighting in formation.


    In other words, they were operating off a balanced strategy, which made up for their weaknesses and allowed their strengths to function. If I could scan over their section of the map, I could make a more detailed assessment via the stages of their villages and towns and regions, but just the Capital alone confirmed that they were well on their way towards Tier 2. Taking a quick look at their built districts, facilities, and Colosseum (Wonder), also gave me a decent idea on their army size, simply because I knew when they started out and what they could''ve built from then to now with the various districts, facilities, and Colosseums subtracted.


    They probably had three and a half-stacks, or three full armies and one that half-strength.


    If they had less, the people would be happier and they''d have more buildings.


    If they had more, the people would be less happy and they''d have less buildings.


    Opportunity cost and all that.


    Anyway, the trip to the Deliverer''s palace took about fifteen minutes and I''d cross-examine my findings with Ayah when we had the time.


    The Deliverer''s palace was pretty immense, but not for grandeur alone. The man was a goddamn giant twice the height of Crusher and strong, too. He could pick Crusher up by the leg and swing him around with ease. Crusher would probably be swinging his own weapons at the enemy if the Deliverer did, too.


    That was a joke.


    Maybe.


    Anyway, we disembarked and the massive doors had to be pulled open with four guards each to grant us entry, and the insides were somewhat sparse. It was less of a palace and more a meeting hall that you entered the moment you crossed the threshold. Three long tables where the Conqueror''s officials would speak and meet in the presence of the Deliverer greeted us, and the decorations of the place were mostly the skulls of giant beasts strapped to the walls, while the rugs were also giant beasts, but skinned and laid out. The chandeliers lighting the place up were iron-wrought and had a few skulls on them, but they were relatively tame, and the banners of the Conquerors lined the walls, spaced out from one another just to stop from being garish.


    Didn''t have much eyes for the d¨¦cor, in all honesty, since the Deliverer just dominated the room.


    He sat in a massive chair clad in brown robes with a large code of rope across the waist. For the first time, I saw him with his head not covered with a hood, and for the first time I looked at a Conqueror sporting wrinkles. His head was bare and face scarred up, but beyond that he didn''t look like an elder leader barely clinging to life as the world went by.


    More like those grandfathers who went to the gym everyday who maxed out the weights, did some reps, and left after shaming every other weight lifter there.


    Yeah, he looked like an endgame boss ready to get up and start smashing everything between him and me.


    "The King of Wisdom has arrived!" Crusher called out, and his words echoed through the hall. The few meetings being held prior to my arrival all over the three massive tables in the hall paused. Dozens of massive orcs looked my way. The average height here was around seven or eight feet, and they were all muscled to hell and back. Yes, the ladies, too. Sure, there are slender, toned ladies here and there, but most of them were just a beefy as the dudes. Mhmm, big ladies with biceps bigger than my head, abs that you can grind meat on, and thighs that can just kill me. I ain''t a coward. I''m an adventurer. A mountain climber, to be precise, heh. "The Conquerors receive him today as honored guest! Let it be known our honor rests on his good treatment! Any who challenge this may come and face me!"


    I wondered if there was a faction amongst the Conquerors who might have problems with me, when I received my answer.


    "I do, father! Let this opportunist be cast out! We need not his aid and contrivances!" From one of the groups, came forth a female Conqueror. Given her way of addressing Crusher, it was easy enough to put the pieces together. She''s the dude''s kid. I''m so smart! Hurr-durr. Breathing sure is fun! "We have no need of him and his petty tricks!"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Alright, Jack, you''ve trained for a long time, and this is your friend''s kid, so act like a normal human being.


    "Opportunist? If that means being the one who gives opportunities, such is the case." Before Crusher could speak up against his daughter, I stepped in. That stopped the stomping of the mean, green fighting machine wearing a skinned Manticore as a cloak and belt, and little else besides some straining leather beneath it. Ah, she can literally pick me up and pin me down with one hand. Wonderful. Anyway, I clacked my heels together and gave a firm and polite bow. "Crusher, you didn''t tell me that your nation had a new leader! I thought that we were friends!"


    That made Crusher''s daughter go from stopping in her tracks to going wide-eyed and looking over her shoulder, as the Deliverer.


    "The King of Wisdom is here by invitation and Crusher cast out his challenge on my behalf." The Deliverer spoke, and it was like listening to the rumble of stones falling down a mountainside. Epic. Also, I need to learn how to project my voice across a hall like him. Him speaking was like having a stereo right by my ear, even though he was at the end of an immense hall. "You are strong, young one, but not strong enough to defeat me. Withdraw your challenge, now."


    "¡­I withdraw my challenge." Crusher''s daughter backed down. There were no ''oohs'' or ''aahs'' only nods of understanding and respect. No one challenged the Deliverer. She must''ve thought that I''d come here at Crusher''s request. In fact, though, I used modern courtesy and asked for permission to come ahead of time and outlined the meeting topics. One of the few things I learned from working an actual job was how to write a decent email, which translated well towards actual mail. "The Deliverer has the right of the matter."


    I thought that''d be the end of the matter and she''d just relent, but I found her glaring down at me like I was a piece of garbage.


    Yeah, it was pretty easy to keep up the smile.


    Honestly, it wasn''t even feeling fake anymore!


    I''ve said it once and I''ll say it again: power is very attractive.


    "You may have proven yourself to the Deliverer, but not all Conquerors look upon your works with respect. The actions of your soldiers are disgusting."


    Too bad, I really needed to look good in front of everyone else.


    I''d like to get talked down too for a bit longer.


    Being vocally fellated 24/7 is tiring.


    "For the sake of my people, and for my soldiers, I shall employ every act imaginable for the sake of my nation. There is no advantage too small, nor disgrace too great, that I will pursue and accept for my people." I was cribbing off of lines I''d heard in movies, trailers, books, and even shitty fanfics online with this little speech, but I practiced speaking long enough to pull it off seriously. Not only that, but these guys had no clue I was stealing from other people. To them, I''m just sounding really profound, or so I hoped. Anyway, I gave Crusher''s daughter a little bow from the waist. "You may ask me what right I have to inflict such terrible stratagems upon my foes, but I ask you this: what right do I have¡­ to not make use of them for my people''s safety and prosperity?"


    I was very aware of what my orders were doing to the Scholars of the Skies.


    Their region is called Frostcrown and it''s their vanilla starting area. Their flying city dwelled amongst steep mountains and extracted science wherever it settled. They had very few plots of land in the region where they could farm food, make improvements like lumber yards, and put down districts where their city would land to make full use of. Land that they can spare for villages and towns were at a premium, but it was all outweighed by the ridiculous science and production bonuses given by mountains and mines.


    Frostcrown was being ravaged now.


    Villages and farms were being set alight with napalm. Mines were being collapsed wherever they could be found. Forests were being set alight, while water sources were being filled with ash and dirt. Refugee trains were being bounced from the borders by my troops, and being forced to go towards the Citadel of the Scholars, which was their last bastion. A bastion which was being forced to produce food, housing, and necessities instead of weapons, explosives, and other such things as I forced more and more discontent, terrified people into slums around it.


    The Scholars showed me the reality of my situation.


    While I had a good overview of things, there were limitations that existed in the game that didn''t exist now.


    It was terrifying that my opponents could innovate and come up with out-of-the-box problems, but I could do the same.


    And, there''s a lot more fucked up shit in my head than theirs.


    My declaration, made with a smile, hung in the air for a long time, even after I raised my head.


    Ayah and Sirena both stood next to me, ready to defend me, as the Conquerors remained strangely silent and looking at Crusher''s daughter.


    I guessed that there was some sort of custom to answer questions given to you in this culture, as she struggled to find an answer to my question. An answer that could convince her peers, her father, her father''s peers, and the leader of her nation that she was a capable leader.


    I guess that I''ve forced her into a rather tough spot with that question, huh?


    Well, Crusher''s a good dude, so I guess I''ll retract my statement.


    "You can take your time thinking up your answer. I''ll be glad to hear a good, reasonable argument against my way of thinking. There are few things worse than never changing how you think nor act, after all." There, that should incentivize the young woman to get things done on her own time. Sorry, but you''re working against someone three times your age, quadruple the education, and unhealthy amounts of cultural references to fall back on. I literally have cheat codes in my brain for anything vaguely related to talking to people in good faith. Arguing with me is a fail state. "Now, please, excuse me. I must speak with your leader."


    I walked past her and straight towards the Deliverer.


    A lot of eyes were on me, as I made my way with my two guards, until I reached the center of the hall and looked up into the Deliverer''s eyes.


    I held out my hands and gave him the best salesman smile I could muster, while he metaphorically had me in the palm of his hand.


    "So? What do you think? A second Citadel for your people after its mine for a year to beat back the famine?"


    The Deliverer chuckled at my question.


    "And, if I refuse, you shall ask either the Guardians or the Wardens to take it instead, no?"


    I didn''t hesitate.


    "Yep."


    "Then, there is no choice in the matter. The Conquerors shall have this Citadel a year after you take control of it, King of Wisdom."


    Man, it''s nice to get what I want¡­ but, I knew better than to think that the Deliverer didn''t have something up his sleeve.


    "But, King of Wisdom, you shall only have it by swearing an oath of alliance between your people and mine."


    "Sure, no problem!"


    Well, there it is.


    I knew it was coming.


    No one''s going to trust me after I keep the Citadel and backstab the Conquerors.

 V4: Chapter 3:

    V4: Chapter 3:


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    With the rise of the King of Wisdom''s transportation service came a new concern: an increase in the speed with which information arrived, while we lacked the ability to act upon it ourselves. Jack could go wherever he wished across the continent upon his transports, going as far and as fast as the news that came upon the lips of many couriers and the papers they carried. For us, they delivered food and messages and many other things, but weapons, troops, Champions, and rations of other nations were something that Jack did not allow.


    If we impressed such a service upon his people, they would either fly away and abandon us to the famine, or we''d find ourselves beset by his forces within days.


    Ostracization and isolation, or face the consequences of confronting an eminent power that can strike anywhere he wished across our lands.


    Of course, I set my people hard at work towards overcoming that advantage, and it came in the form of a swarm.


    "Nicholas, I see that you''ve made progress."


    "I would say that I''ve accomplished quite more than mere progress. This is innovation, Lady Adil." Nicholas was an old and wizened man covered in robes and went about in a palanquin carried by skeletons. It was within his power to become a Lich, and from Catherine''s reports, he had the ritual ready and waiting. However, he has not used it, even with my implicit permission and has remained an aging mortal tended to by all times by Undead servants. Still, his mind was sharp and talent without question. "This is a method with which you can hope the contest the skies against the King of Wisdoms'' advantages."


    A gnarled and liver-spotted hand extended out of the palanquin and I found my gaze drawn to what was being placed in the middle of the field. It was a lamp post of sorts and at its base were a series of large boxes. Instead of casting a golden ray, however, once activated it cast a baleful energy that fell onto the boxes at its base. Within moments, the innumerable bones within the boxes shook, changed, and took flight as spectral bats.


    "Each of these contains the bare minimum necessary to create a familiar. Each one exists at a fraction of a fraction of the cost usually necessary. Not only can they pick fields free of pests, but in sufficient numbers they can fill the skies and provide bodies between our meagre aerial forces against the might of the King of Wisdom." Innovation and cunning in equal measure were necessary to counter the King of Wisdom. It wasn''t enough to simply rise to discover ancient secrets and revive what was lost. What we had now needed to advance as well, and so I sought out the talented recluses, those who aspired to peer into the greatest depths of magic, and recruited them. I hoped to create an Academy of my own, as Jack did, but for now I would have to make do with a cabal led by Nicholas. They gave me what I desired, as long as I funded their own projects. "In great enough numbers, you will be able to counter even a city of the ancients taking flight on your lands. Such things are powerful indeed, but even they cannot defend against a swarm that blankets the skies."


    Such a wonderful weapon would''ve made me giddy, but lessons learned from my investment into muskets remained in the forefront of my mind.


    "I want the direct accounts of its production and cost. It will be analyzed and discerned before I dedicate to its mass production and deployment. Otherwise, a select number shall be built as defenses for critical regions." Nicholas grunted at my words, unable to defend against them, despite his desire to see his innovation bearing fruit across the land. "The pest control aspect will be greatly appreciated, however. These can be moved to farmlands and orchards when we are at peace."


    "Peace? With the alliance between the Deliverer and the King of Wisdom? Bah. You best have these built en masse, before the stories of the Ancients blanketing their foes in Conquerors in ancient times comes alive right before our very eyes." Nicholas spoke, and I simply shook my head at his words. His next set of words seemed even more irate. "Do you believe me wrong, Lady Adil? Do you think with all that power and might, the King of Wisdom and the Deliverer will stay their hand against the rest of the continent when it is clear that they can destroy all in their path?"


    "If the King of Wisdom ruled over the Conquerors, then he would certainly strike against all until he established his hegemon over the continent." Jack cannot ignore the number of lives he would save by crushing the madness that crawls over the land by inflicting such terrible violence upon it that all will be subjugated. "However, he is in an alliance of equals with the Deliverer and he is a true Conqueror and his desire is to rise to glory with a legend unmarred by atrocities and wrongdoing. His way is that of honor and justice in completion."


    The Conquerors allying with Jack would serve as a counterweight.


    No, he would most certainly alter all his plans with them in mind, to achieve the most that he possibly could.


    Nicholas was quiet for a long time, and I took a moment to breathe.


    Besides my guards and his skeletons, we were alone together in the testing field. Beneath the shine of the stars and the scarred moon, familiars composed of spectral power and bones arose into the sky. Nicholas told me they could defend against aerial attack and pluck pests from farms. That satisfied me, especially if they were as cheap to produce as he said, but how would Jack make use of this? How many other ways could this simple invention be used in order to change the world?


    As always, when I tried to wring my mind for ideas that would come to him as easily as he breathed, I found myself confronted by my own lack of imagination, experience, and talent. The best that I could imagine was to use them for military purposes. Ambushes preceded by swarms of the spectral creatures, providing cover against arrows, and other such things. Innovations that any warlord could manage, but Jack would find a way for this to make money, to increase the comfort of his people''s lives, and become not just a military or agricultural advantage, but a civic, social, and economic advantage, too.


    Thankfully, I wasn''t alone and I didn''t have to face him alone, even if he was already ahead of me once again after recruiting so many talents to his cause.


    Nicholas was just the start.


    "Work with my researchers and see if we can have this do more than kill vermin and throw themselves at the enemy as living munitions." I ordered Nicholas. "The more it can do, the more it is worth, and the easier it shall be to allocate what we have to its mass production. Look into improving it, while keeping costs low."


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I see. Very well then, it shall done, Lady Adil." Nicholas'' shadow bowed behind the thin sheets of his palanquin. His skeletons came alive with energy and readied to move. "With your pardon, I shall move to have the reports made and begin more methods to implement my innovation across the land."


    "You have it. I shall see you again in a fortnight."


    Within a few minutes, I was alone in the field with guards, and in the fringes of my mind I wondered if I was truly moving forward¡­ or if I was still reacting to Jack and chasing after him.


    If I was managing the former, then I had a hope of catching up.


    If it was the latter, then I would only find myself beaten on a playing field with which I was unfamiliar.


    Regardless, whichever was the case, a simple fact remained: as the Deliverer and the King of Wisdom moved, so must I.


    The Merchants of the Marshlands did not deserve their Citadel nor the lands that they are cultivating purely for profit with the oncoming famine.


    I will see them laid low and raise my own people up to greater heights.


    ?


    While it pained me to start the work culture of taking trips for meetings across the continent, I couldn''t exactly ignore the fact sending mail was physical, and webcam meetings weren''t possible. Alas, the days when I could just work in my underwear and still make money remained in my past life, until I managed to scrounge up the time and money to get the research necessary done.


    Opportunity cost is being a bitch, though, so I couldn''t even work on it, even if I wanted.


    Anyhow, I spent a week over with the Conquerors, before leaving the next day to visit the Wardens. I was going to offer them premium trading rights with my people, and some extra farming land, in exchange for them sending some troops over to fight against the Scholars. The only thing better than having one ally in a fight is having two, after all, and I already planned to go there, so I may as well.


    Crusher, though, made my life difficult by looking over at Sirena, and deciding that it wouldn''t do for the Wardens to have someone strong with me, while the Conquerors didn''t.


    So, my party gained another member for the foreseeable future, and she was now glaring at the Wardens capital quite fiercely.


    "All this useless grandeur when they have need of an army. The Wardens are as frivolous as the tales tell." Conquest grunted as she stared over the Wardens city. The few months since I''d left it, after they were secure from outside threats, were spent building up to their strengths. They had a whole religious district up and running with multiple temples and the temple that I''d entered last time I was present was being dwarfed by their rising Wonder, the Cathedral of Light, which will let them start popping off with their resurrection shenanigans. They only need one army, if that army keeps coming back to life, y''know? "I do not see why you have need of these people, King of Wisdom."


    "Hold your tongue on matters unknown to you, Conquest. My people venerate our ancestors and seek out paradise. Life is fleeting, but the fate of the immortal soul is an eternal concern." Sirena and her didn''t get along well. Crusher, why would you do this to me? Sirena''s a tanned, blonde, and toned as hell warrior-saint wearing barely anything more than jewelry and bikini armor, while Conquest is a giant of a woman that''s stacked in terms of curves and muscle¡­ wearing leather straps beneath a badass coat made of a Manticore. Them arguing with each other with me in between is just torture for my libido, man. I thought you were my friend! "With the creation of the Citadel, all who die in service to our nation will return to life and be ready to fight once again. Not even your people can overwhelm the faith of mine."


    "Faith? Your faith sounds like madness. Your lot simply wish to drown your foes in bodies." Conquest grumbled and glared at Sirena over me. Both were taller than me, though Sirena was a head shorter and they were seated to my right and left in the wagon. Yes, indeed, if I looked either right or left, it''ll be all boobs and amazing, sculpted abdomens. My grip on my legs have never been so hard¡­ and Ayah was sitting right across from me, so I had another reason to feign not being interested. I don''t think I can take being propositioned by the Golem mimicking a stacked, dark-skinned young woman with short hair. I''m surrounded by tanned tomboys dressed to kill, but I can''t touch any of them. Is this hell? Oh, right, they''re talking about cultural and political divides between their people. "Battles are won by warriors and generals with the populace behind them. Not with the sheer mass of the people drowning warriors and generals."


    "Then, your people are not as willing to fight as mine are, Conquest."


    "If you dare speak such words to me, then you should be ready to back them with force, Saintess."


    Woops, it''s stopped being hot and started getting violent.


    Gotta stop it, even if I''m missing out on the chance of being sandwiched between two deep, lush valleys, if they decide to literally butt heads.


    It sure is hard acting all wise.


    "My cities can be defended by militia supported by the citizenry, while my armies act to defeat my enemies." I spoke as evenly as I could to interrupt the two, while staring upward to avoid looking at anything distracting, while staying seated on the back of the carriage. The roof of this thing looks nice. Is that velvet? "However, that is to the strengths of my people, and we all must do our best with what we have. The Wardens have the faith and the willing, while the Conquerors have the soldiers and the generals. I have a measure of both, to make up for shortcomings."


    That ended the argument rather swiftly¡­ or so I wished as Sirena proceeded to cling to my arm and Conquest was taken aback by the brazen display.


    "Ah, so you do understand, King of Wisdom! How wonderful!" Oi, I didn''t agree with you! Hell, I just said the same thing Conquest did, but with better words! Your people ARE crazy and drown people in resurrected bodies. "I am sure the High Justiciar will be generous with such a great ally!"


    I halfway suspected for some shenanigans on Conquest''s part, but instead she actually stood up for me.


    Or, tried to.


    "W-what are you doing!? How could you do such a thing to a man who isn''t your betrothed!"


    "What do you mean? An embrace can be between good friends!"


    "No! No, they cannot! Purity cannot be stained before marriage!"


    Oh, man the warrior/huntress Orc with rippling muscle and ridiculous curves is also innocent as can be.


    Devs, just so you know, the fist coming your way is filled with love and affection.

 V4: Chapter 4:

    V4: Chapter 4:


    ¡­


    "Ah, I see why I failed to seduce you, Jackie. You have quite the definitive type."


    "¡­Didn''t stop you from dressing up to try, though."


    "Of course not!" Khalai was wearing some very tight denim shorts and had a white, sleeveless, and mid-riff bearing top. If the shorts were orange, he''d fit right in at a certain store. "Why would I ever stop trying to seduce the most powerful man on the continent? For the sake of my people, I must be willing to do anything, no?"


    "That''s not what I meant by that, and you know it." I grumbled and took a seat at Khalai''s office. He sauntered over to the very large desk¡­ and proceeded to sit on the desk with one leg crossed over the other instead of the chair behind it. This man is going to be a problem in the future. In fact, Conquest was practically having a stroke holding back from yelling at him to be less provocative. Why can''t you be normal, Khalai? I didn''t ask that aloud, though. He''d take it as a challenge, and I didn''t want to see how lewd he could go. "Are you capable of providing us aid to take the Citadel of the Scholars?"


    "Yes, of course. The horror they unleashed cannot be allowed to stand. If justice is not meted out, then others will follow in the wake of the sinner." Cool holy paladin quote. Please stop crossing and uncrossing your legs like a stripper, while you say that. You don''t need to raise your legs all the way up to show your flexibility to dictate your national policy, Khalai. "My people will march against them in support of you¡­ but the fact that the Conquerors will take the Citadel after a year gives my advisors and myself doubts. If you rescind your alliance with them, and ally solely with us, we shall give you the Third Citadel permanently."


    I''ll admit it.


    If Conquest wasn''t right over my shoulder, I''d have taken that offer.


    Hell, I hated the fact that I went to the Conquerors first right after I heard it.


    But, the die was cast, and all I could hope for now was that Khalai would remember these words when I betrayed the Conquerors.


    "I''m afraid that I wouldn''t have taken such an offer, High Justiciar. If I took a third Citadel, too much suffering would take place." I lied my ass off and kept a small, earnest smile on my face. My goal was to look grateful and apologetic. The raised eyebrow from Khalai told me that it worked, since he wasn''t insisting on me just forgetting about the Conquerors. "The continent entire would become incensed against me, if I took three Citadels permanently. It would destroy what little peace we have left. You must remember that the war can be won, but the peace still be lost, my friend."


    Khalai pouted at my statement.


    "Now, that''s not fair, Jackie. You can''t just be reasonable and hot all of a sudden and expect me to argue back." Khalai pouted and twirled a lock of hair that was just past his chin. Huh, he''s growing his hair out. Oh, no. He''s growing his hair out. I really, really hoped he was growing his hair out to gain more feminine advantage over all his targets. Not just me. Please, if there''s any higher power out there, please have mercy on me. Make sure that this Dark Elf bisexual power bottom isn''t targeting solely me. What have I done to deserve a test this hard? Haven''t I complained enough with all my soul to make it clear that I''m weak as hell? "Fiiinneee, I''ll play nice with the Conquerors."


    Reminder: this guy''s the pope analogue of this world.


    With that said, Khalai hopped off the table, made sure he had the tightest top and shorts on the planet, and went over to me with a smile and hooked his arm through mine.


    "Now, that all that stuff''s over, why don''t we go have some time to ourselves, Jackie?" Khalai''s definitely got the Seduction perk in his Diplomacy tree and was powering it up. He had a little, toothless smile that was both smug and mischievous, which carried into the words he whispered my way. There was also a smolder to his half-lidded gaze as he looked up at me. Looking down at him, as he craned forward to direct my vision, informed me he wasn''t wearing the tightest pair of denim shorts and crop top on the planet, because there was just a tiny gap when he leaned forward that showed a straight line of skin until it reached¡­ the short''s now-unbuttoned waistline. When did he even manage to do that while walking towards me!? "It''s been really too long since we''ve last seen each other."


    Back in my world, I was worried that being completely and utterly heterosexual would ruin me, if I was ever found out. Even in gamer circles, not being a little into femboys is considered cringe. Hell, I knew a few fervent right-wingers who I knew for a fact had drives full of the people that they ''hate.'' Anyway, thankfully, my sexuality carried over in my new body and I was more than capable of repelling the attack completely.


    Sorry, Khalia, I''m not twink resistant.


    I''m twink immune.


    "And, I''ve told you many times that I am not interested." I drew my arm out of his grip, while he pouted some more. Seeing my only reaction at that being a raised eyebrow made him straighten up¡­ not completely. He still had his ass out and had that little lean going on to make him look even smaller and more slender. I''ve said it once and I''ll say it again. This guy''s going to be a lot of trouble in the future. I''m almost grateful for the fact that no one will ally with me once I break ties with the Conquerors. Wait a minute, no, Khalai might still stick around after then! He really is going to be my biggest headache! "But, I do have time for lunch. Let''s catch up, Khalai."


    "Not the catching I''d like, but sure." Khalai sighed and placed a hand on his hips, before wagging a finger at me. "One day, Jackie, you''re going to fall head over heels for someone, and you''re going to feel really, really sorry for me!"


    "And, when that happens, I''ll give you a call and you''ll come running?"


    "Absolutely! Just tell me when, darling!"


    With that said, I followed beside Khalai to our usual place to eat lunch in the Wardens Citadel.


    As we walked away, only Ayah and Sirena followed, and I heard Conquest speak into the empty room alone.


    "But¡­ but men can''t marry other men!"


    I''d hoped that Khalai wouldn''t catch that, it was already a social blunder of pretty high proportions, but the High Justiciar could make things worse.


    Naturally, my hopes were dashed.


    "Connie-dearest, I want him to marry Sirena! I just want him to have lots and lots of fun with me!"


    Conquest made a few strangled noises of confusion, Ayah stayed stoic, silent, and ready to ask me if I needed relief the moment we had privacy, and the ryona-game protagonist (Sirena) looked at me with a blush on her face¡­ and propped out her chest a bit.


    Yeah.


    The Wardens haven''t changed a bit.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ?


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    It was difficult to control myself when facing the Scholars of the Skies.


    Every time I fought against them, I recalled that day when the sky fell, when so many burned and suffered, and all those I tried to save perished right before my very eyes.


    I knew that not all of them were involved in the plan, that the peasantry that we followed from a distance had no say in the ambition and madness of their leaders. These Scholars, carrying their lives on their backs or on wagons towards the Citadel of the Scholars, were not the perpetrators. However, still, the urge to kill them remained despite that knowledge.


    Something within me was changed forevermore on that day, and I did not know if I can do anything to change once more.


    Thankfully, Ilych was more than capable of keeping track of our foes, while I watched our surroundings for foes.


    "There is a complication in the plan. Some villages are choosing to entrench and bunker down." Ilych and I followed the caravan of merchants that flowed through lands towards the Scholars'' capital. Like a vice, Riegert commanded troops that raided villages and burnt them, and forced the peoples of this land to move according to our will. We were to put the Citadel to siege and force them to surrender as they starved, even with the treasures of the Ancients at their disposal. "Look."


    If they stayed still and fought, it would complicate matters. A strongpoint could form that would give warning to our coming allies, or destroy the shepherding force. We traveled fast and light and so did Riegert''s forces. Standing against a professional army would be suicidal in our current state, especially if a Champion of the Scholars rode out to command and lead an army.


    I confirmed what Ilych reported by looking through the telescope we shared.


    The caravan we were tailed had split into two. One group elected to stay with a village that decided to entrench, while the rest went onward. More caravans were coming behind them. The village and its protections could become a strongpoint for the Scholars in the coming campaign. That couldn''t be allowed.


    "It''s time for us to call in our support, then."


    "Aye."


    The statement was succinct on Ilych''s end, but it was a decision with great weight behind it. We could call upon support from the air only once every few days. This land was hostile and only veteran riders could safely navigate it and provide us with support in enemy lines. Bringing along transports was a sure way to get unwanted attention, too. Even with their forces mostly depleted, the Scholars still had a defending force that was rapidly swelling. They intended to defend their current position and retain their Citadel, despite all that they did.


    With Ilych approving, I took my bow and the arrow that I needed to use as a signal. The head of the arrow was of a magical crystal, which I could force power into to glow brightly. It doubled as a distraction in combat and a signal for allies when fired high into the sky. Today, it would act as a signal, but I knew that the time will soon come when I will use it in combat.


    I barely noticed my body as I fired it into the air, and it glowed so brightly in the clear blue sky that it couldn''t be missed¡­ and moments later there was the sound of horns above us and the beating of massive wings just above the tree line.


    "This is how we destroyed Jack''s original caravan." Ilych stated simply, while we watched fully armored knights astride armored beasts fly through the air with speed and grace that belied their deadliness. As we watched, they were coated with power from the blasts of their enchanted horns, and they became living projectiles wreathed in devastating power, which would be propelled forward by their speed and mass. They charged through the skies and collided with the village, just as they were noticed and horns of alarm were rung. Moments later, just as the village''s alarms reached us, it was wiped away by the aerial charge. "But with only a quarter of their number."


    "I see." The sheer destructive force of the aerial charge was within question. Even in the times before the Citadel, the flying, armored knights were feared. Now, however, they were arranged as units in army groups. Each unit self-sufficient, capable of acting with solely its own officers on the field, when given directions by the general for their mission. With that knowledge in mind, I watched as a second wave came shortly after the first, destroying everything left in the wake of the first charge. A third was already on the wings. Like hammers falling upon an anvil, they fell at a steady rhythm¡­ and as the third charged the first was already circling in the air to see if they needed to strike once more. "The village is gone. We can move onward now."


    "Yes." Ilych nodded, before growing still. A moment later, she charged a nearby bush whilst unleashing the massive blade strapped to her back. A second later, as leaves fell in her wake from her sheer speed, a familiar sound reached me. The sound of metal breaking apart, flesh and bone being rent, and a gasp of pain silenced but a moment after.


    I followed after her, bow in hand, as the sound of battle resounded for a brief few seconds.


    When I arrived to help her, the battle was already over.


    "Skirmishers." Ilych explained simply. I looked over the most whole of the bodies. They were all of the non-feral stock of Goblins. Long-eared and with exaggerated facial features on their large heads, their tiny bodies had large hands and feat for their size. Many thought them gruesome to look at, but their sheer numbers told that they found no fault in their own appearances. This bunch were clad in half-plate over padded gambesons. No chainmail, and the plates were camouflaged to fit with the surroundings. Their faces were masked and hooded, whilst the stretches of skin that they showed were darkened with some war paint. These were capable, skilled trackers and hunters. Ilych dispatched them in an instant, because their skills did not make them warriors. "We are being hunted now."


    "Yes, so that means it''s time to retreat." I looked up and our air support was already leaving the skies at a rapid pace. That was what they were told to do, after coming to our aid once, no matter if I sent another signal or not. They couldn''t be risked¡­ and we would be poor Champions if a hunting party or two were threats to us. "Let''s go. This portion of the mission is over."


    Ilych paused for a moment, and I feared that her winds would bid her to go against our lord''s orders, but soon she nodded and sheathed her blood-drinking blade to follow me.


    Now, the second phase of the plan will begin.


    We will sap as much of the enemy''s army our way to be smashed apart by the Conquerors and all the other allies our King will bring into the fray.

 V4: Chapter 5:

    V4: Chapter 5:


    ¡­


    If I can get something done without being involved, I''d happily take a seat, prop up my feet, and let someone else do the work.


    Unfortunately, invasions are hard, and I was the only person on this planet who could navigate random events.


    Especially when those random events were in heavily-ravaged terrain.


    Naturally, the Random Event Table for a region that had lots of pillaged or destroyed tiles was separate from the normal set. The normal set can see your army fucked up to half-strength if you don''t pick the right choices between events. Of course, the event table for a literal war zone filled with hungry people, enemy skirmishers, and hostile towns could easily have your full stack just disappear off the face of the planet. In a ravaged, pillaged, and fucked-over territory like the Scholars'' seeing your army attrition''d to eighty percent is considered optimal.


    Which is fucking horrendous when you consider that 1/5 soldiers are going to die just getting to battle. That''s the best outcome right now, since we didn''t have the military techs and infrastructure built up to support armies taking over regions. So, I had to go and lead the coalition of forces and provide my input into the situation.


    The only other option was revealing my knowledge of Random Events¡­ and that wasn''t happening. The remains of the game''s Wiki and thousands of hours of playing were my main advantages in this world. I wasn''t going to lose it.


    Therefore, I had no choice but to join the invading armies and help them out on their warpath.


    If I could have someone else do it, I would.


    But, I have to do it, otherwise someone might do it wrong.


    ?


    The Conquerors arrived with an unexpected guest at the designated location. Already, with the help of the Wardens, I set up a pseudo-staging area for the coalition army. In-game, you can create a caravan unit that can set up staging areas where your army can heal and rearm their munitions in enemy territory. You''d use up the unit in the process, they only lasted a turn, and they cost a lot, but popping a caravan or three on the way to an enemy capital is the difference between a loss and a win. As long as the unit didn''t die in the last battle, even if they were down to their last man out of a hundred, you''d be able to pay gold, get all the veterancies of that unit on a new one, and march on.


    I hoped that aerial resupply would be able to work to replace the Caravan unit, but I wasn''t holding my breath.


    Speaking about held breath: the Undead were here.


    "Good morning, Lady Adil. It''s quite cool, isn''t it?" I greeted my old classmate with a wave. They led her up the main road of the complex. It was pretty standard as a forward operating base. Lots of prefabricated walls and slanted roofs. Mostly warehouses and places for soldiers to sleep and flying horses to stay. Accommodation for Conquerors meant most of the barracks were just large tents where soldiers put up some plywood or extra materials to build themselves a cubicle or something. Nowhere close to the forward operating base tiles factions could make in the mid-game that could even provide bonuses like artillery strikes on the overworld. This place was just a location to eat, rest, stay safe in, and resupply from. "I thought you and the Forgers would try to take the Merchants over behind our backs. What are you doing all the way over here with your second army?"


    The Vampire clad in a blood-red imperial military officer uniform looked at me with a scowl from atop her spectral horse.


    "I see that you''re as well-informed as ever, Jack." Now this is awkward. I forgot her first name. I know it started with C. Ah, whatever, we''re not that personal with one another. HM, what''s that about information? I mean, Adil was pretty decent as a leader, so it was only natural that she had that much. She''d have to a brain-dead, easy-mode NPC, even after all her setbacks to not have a second stack and grand aspirations at this turn. Unfortunately, everyone was playing for keeps and decent at their jobs, which made my life a whole lot harder. "However, as a Guardian of the Moon, I could not ignore what the Scholars have done. My people will aid you in bringing them to justice."


    "And, what do you want in exchange for your justice? Last time, I recall, you wanted a whole Citadel for the sake of your justice. The Conquerors'' I believe." I didn''t hesitate to put her in a tough spot. With a smile, I put all the attention on her. If she wanted to shave time off my year with the Citadel, then she can go ahead and leave with the army she brought. Sure, the masses of Undead and elite Vampires, Dhamphirs, and Necromancers were very intimidating and would be very helpful, but I''d been sabotaging Scholar lands for nearly a whole turn and two full army stacks from the Conquerors were here. That was enough, but the Wardens also sent in a whole stack. Almost five thousand soldiers were here, and most of them weren''t Undead with garbage defense and HP. "I don''t think I can accept your help, Lady Adil, for such a high price."


    That earned me a death glare from beneath a pretty spiffy tricorn, feathered hat, but a little chuckle left her before she spoke again and shook her head.


    "I ask for nothing in return. My people will fight simply to ensure that future generations will know that the actions of the Scholars shall be met with overwhelming force. That guarantee is payment enough." With those words said, I looked over my shoulder at Sirena and Conquest. That mollified Conquest, who probably represented most of the Conquerors well enough. Sirena didn''t seem impressed by the statement, but she didn''t seem against it either. Well, I was more worried about the Conquerors'' reaction, since they were the ones that had a Citadel on the line. "Is that enough, King of Wisdom, or would you like for my people to provide you a Champion of our own to have you allow us to fight the Scholars?"


    Yep, Adil was still eyeing me as a potential threat and future hegemon that she had to stop.


    Nice to know that I could still make a decent guess at other people''s future goals and desires, despite the Scholars throwing a curveball at me.


    Well, at the Academy, but the city-drop had been a wake-up call.


    Can''t rely on game-knowledge, at least without verification.


    "Hm, okay. You can join our little coalition. I''ll have your troops housed within a few days, but you''ll have to stay in tents for a bit." I looked over my shoulder and Ayah nodded at me. I ignored Adil''s insinuation that I was collecting Champions. She might see it that way, but in reality I was getting more and more people whose loyalty wasn''t entirely mine set up around me. These Champions are like guillotine blades ready to rush at my neck at my betrayal. Man, I really need to find a way to stop them. I''ve got 1 year after the Scholars Citadel is taken. The schedule will be tight, but I should get another Champion specialized to kill them both up and running. "Well, I have things to do. I''ll have a few officers come down to help you settle down! See ya!"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I gave Adil a wave before leaving.


    I crunched the numbers in my head.


    We should have enough food, but it wouldn''t hurt to get some more.


    That''s the bad thing about having a lot of firepower and bodies on the field.


    You needed a lot of food and supplies to get them where they needed to go.


    Thankfully, through the power of money, lots of hard working citizens, and Pegasus-based shipping, I could get things where they needed to be.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert


    ?


    A city built over a week.


    Jack will never cease to amaze.


    "I''m not going crazy, right? Captain?" Gunther walked up to my side, and so did Oswald. The latter''s mouth was open. "We were here just a week ago, right?"


    "Aye, we were. Jack''s been busy." It almost felt strange to call him by first name now. With a whistle, I cleared for all the men to come to us. Weeks of constant raiding, pushing, and setting things alight were now at its end. We were at our last rendezvous point. Once more, we expected to be picked up and shipped off. Instead, we looked upon a city built of wood surrounded by palisades and innumerable tents. A constant stream of wagons, both on the ground and in the air, flowed into the walled city. It was larger than many of the towns that we destroyed. "I thought his promise of hot food and a bath on our return was in jest, but it looks like we''re getting exactly that."


    "From the wilderness straight into the lap of luxury. Impossible, I''d say, if I didn''t see it with my own eyes." Gunther grunted and shifted his arm. It was in a sling and his arm in a splint. Besides that wound, he was unhurt and hale. The wound had been cleaned and wrapped in a poultice, which many soldiers carried. Dry until water was added, it turned into a slurry that protected against infection. A grand tool to have whilst acting as bandits and raiders and pillagers in enemy territory. "You think they have someone there that can heal this?"


    "I reckon they would."


    We moved forward on foot and in mere moments we received a signaling whistle. I returned it with my own. Four breaths through the whistle, signaling we had wounded with us and were friendly, and in a moment we had fresh troops helping us along from a nearby patrol. Our weapons and burdens were relieved of us soon enough, and those too tired were offered rides on wagons that swiftly arrived. Many men tried to persist, until I got onto one myself. No use in walking farther.


    "How did this happen so quickly? We were just here." Oswald managed to find his tongue. His eyes were on the assembled army. After so many days of constant battle, some of his hair returned to his scalp and his facial hair was wild and unkempt. He''d grumbled about not even having the time to shave and cleanse himself, but here he was sure to enjoy warm baths and a cot to sleep on. But those creature comforts were lost to him. "The Conquerors are a whole region away. The Dark Elves have the Marshlands between them and here. The Guardians, I can understand, but all three¡­ here? Now?"


    "The transports, of course. How else?" Gunther grunted, his brow furrowing, and his face souring even further at the question his fellow officer posed. "The King asked them to come here from all over the world. Of course, he''d make sure they''re all here. If they just trickle in, we''d be wasting time and lives."


    "Right, right. I¡­ I just thought that with so many aiding us, that there would be no way he could lift whole armies here." Ah, that was the reason behind Oswald''s surprise. It wasn''t the ability of our people to send people to and fro through the air. It was the capacity of that ability. We''d been restocked, reinforced, and sent all over the lands of the Scholars. We rarely met the same set of aerial riders the same time and they were always fresh and rested. Yet, despite the demands of their duties all over the continent, we had enough to carry over three whole armies from different places on the continent to converge upon one. "I was mistaken."


    At those words, Gunther had no retort, and we all travelled through the walls into the city proper.


    It could not compare to a true capital city, but it was beyond the forward base that we used to have. There was a main road, warehouses being filled with supplies ranging from rations to weapons, and soldiers training and keeping themselves sharp. There was a place to wash the body, numerous places to consume food, stations for guards, a small jail, and stables aplenty. Some soldiers rested and gathered near stores where they could spend their money, there was a classroom that we passed by that was teaching soldiers how to read and write, and even a small building dedicated solely to sending and receiving mail.


    My soldiers were approached, sent off for food and rest, while Gunther, Oswald, and myself were taken to the command building at the center of it all.


    Khanrow had prided himself in his wagon train and the luxuries his officers had at their disposal. I had looked upon our warband, all its supplies and support, and felt pride myself. Then, I had witnessed the forward base that we had as we fought against the guardians, and I had believed that was the finest that I''d ever witnessed. Yet, now, I looked upon a city built within a week, solely meant to house and support and army, and all that it required was flown in from cities that the enemy it would face cannot touch.


    It was difficult to not laugh in disbelief, as I looked upon a small manse surrounded by a fence proved to be Jack''s headquarters with our banner beside that of the Conquerors, the Wardens, and the Guardians. True, it could not compare to an actual mansion, but it was a large domicile with three separate wings, its own well, and servants in pristine black-and-white clothes flittering between buildings carrying linens, food, and othersuch things.


    I gave in, as I my name was announced and the double-doors opened and I found myself looking upon carpets, oil lamps, and a foyer filled with guards. The open door to the left revealed a meeting area and a dining room. The door to the right was another room where maps were strewn and officers from all four of the alliance argued over what the next move¡­ but the door at the center was an office.


    An office that I would recognize after seeing it so many times when visiting Jack in the Citadel.


    The brat had his whole work area flown in.


    How couldn''t I laugh at my own foolishness?


    I had thought I''d seen the true strength of the nation I now helped lead¡­ when I had in fact been stunned by mere glimpses of what could be.


    Nothing ever was going to be the same.


    We were truly living in a new age of myth and legend.


    I could only hope that me and my men will survive it, despite winning the last.

 V4: Chapter 6:

    V4: Chapter 6:


    ¡­


    There are people out there who like Goblins.


    I''m here to tell you that their playstyle is garbage.


    Special elite strike-team reinforcements inserted from the air if your flying city is in the region. Woop-dee-doo, I can just have two armies in the same region, and I can get the same thing.


    My capital can''t be taken by the enemy unless they have enough flying units in the region? Wow, that''s great. It''s not like I can just raze and pillage all your tiles and make that one city capable of doing nothing. Wait, I can.


    All my troops are cheap and disposable at the start, but they work as tarpits later once I get my ranged units up and running? Wow, that sure is original. I can''t imagine literally every other faction doing the same thing with their Tier 0 units the entire fucking game.


    Seriously, the Scholars of the Skies is the faction for people who just want to be annoying, who want to park their fully-upgraded city on some unreachable tiles, and get a science victory before anyone else can do shit to them. The ones with actual balls will make game-ending units and blow up our cities and armies with lost technology, but most of their players don''t do that. They just¡­ sit around, study, do research, and fucking win.


    Garbage faction for garbage people, and I''m allying with anyone who wants to kill them without a thought.


    I consider ending a Scholar of the Skies player''s game a moral victory.


    Thankfully, though, they were proving to be actual, decent opponents that didn''t crawl into hiding to research their way to victory in this life.


    Well, it''s a bad thing that they''re actually fighting, since I had to go to war¡­ but, overall, I liked these Scholars more than the ones in the game.


    They actually had the decency to go up to you and try to stab you in the face, y''know?


    ?


    Conquest had a frown on her face as she lowered the telescope.


    "Another village ravaged and destroyed by your troops before we even arrive. Are you mocking us, King of Wisdom? Do you believe the Conquerors incapable of waging war?" The village in the distance was on the maps, but thanks to my espionage actions, most of the outer territories of the Scholar of the Skies territory was ravaged and burnt to the ground. We advanced quickly through these lands, with our supply line guarded and constant from the FOB. There were a few skirmishes by our patrols and those of the Scholars, but nothing serious. Even the captured troops all said that they volunteered to be some sort of distraction force. "Where is the battle for the prize we have been offered?"


    "At the Citadel, I presume." Sirena had her arms crossed as she approached. I really wished she wore more than just tiny metal plates, gold threads, and jewels. I thought things were getting serious and she''d wear actual armor once the fighting started, but all she did differently was pull her hair up. I''m sure that long, high ponytail confers protection against stabbing, lady. "Along with the Guardians, you lot should have no trouble taking it despite all the works of the Scholars."


    "The Conquerors can do more. We must do more. The prize is a Citadel after a mere year without it. Honor demands a fair price be paid." Conquest insisted with a furrowed brow. The massive wolf she rode upon was as large as a draft horse, and far stronger. She had two cavalry sabers at her hip and they were as long as I was tall. When she went into battle, everything in front of her was ripped apart by her beast, while she protected its flanks with whirlwinds of steel. She could also do the same charge that the flying Knights did, and could barrel through formations like a freight train. She could give Ilych a run for her money as an army killer for sure. "Especially as you have led us through the lands of the Scholars with so little casualties, King of Wisdom."


    "The right idea and the right words solve many problems before they can become problems." I did my best to act with humility. I was doing my best whenever events popped up to mitigate casualties and have my troops ready for the bullshit that was coming our way. Like I said, you can lose your whole army if you pick all the bad event options on the way to an enemy Citadel with the enemy''s lands pillaged and open war taking place. I was minimizing casualties to like 30%, getting people healed up, and reinforcements flowing constantly back from base. Just like in the game, the solution was just having enough troops and money to make the bad events fuck off. "I only wish that some of the people that we meet can see reason."


    "That they do not accept your mercy is a sign of a tainted and malign soul, oh King of Wisdom." Sirena laid the flattery on quite thickly. Usually, I liked being praised, but a lot of the decisions she was praising me for involved having partisans being killed to the last, making sure no enemy scout survived, and deporting people out of a warzone¡­ which they were in because we were conducting a war against them. Not exactly feeling good about those decisions, lady. "I pray that they return wiser in their next life."


    I pray that they''re reborn into another world with better circumstances than me. Maybe, with cheat powers, without any world-ending threats, and a loving family. Hell, if they just got the last one, they''d have a better start than me.


    Ah, I made myself sad.


    Moving on.


    A messenger arrived at our location. We were moving in the center of the formation, behind hundreds of soldiers, along with a mob of people making sure we were going the right way. The formation was large enough that we needed messengers to get from front to back in a timely manner. Moving thousands of people took up a lot of space. Phones would be nice, but besides the messengers, we had a signal corps, which were common for armies even before I came along. They used drums, flags, and various wind instruments to send signals through the whole army.


    All I did was expand on them and attach them to every few hundreds soldiers, so people could stay in touch better.


    I really looked forward to getting phones back online, or something similar. Hell, something close to a damn pager would do.


    But, I had other things for my researchers and scholars to look into besides that, which were more important due to the coming apocalypses.


    Big guns to kill big monsters are a bit more important than wireless communications at the moment.


    Anyway, the messenger delivered the usual news.


    Something happening up ahead, people wanted me to make a decision, and lots of people will die if I didn''t make the right one.


    The usual.


    ?


    Interlude: Sirena


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    ?


    War was as cruel and terrible as I recalled.


    Before the King of Wisdom, as I and Conquest flanked him, were a band of children. There were dozens and dozens of them in various states. The oldest of them held small spears, whilst the youngest held rocks and pouches¡­ and babies. Their manner of dress was ragged, their feet were covered boots too big, or wrapped in straps of leather or cloth. Their eyes and cheeks were sunken, and even as they were surrounded by a forward patrol, I saw in them a simple urge: the desire to live through any means.


    An urge that I never wished to see in the eyes of a child.


    "What manner of madness is this? The Scholars have the soldiers to spare to bite at our flanks, yet they leave bands of children to wander?" Conquest growled, her voice closer to anger than I''d ever heard before, and she left her mount and reached for her hip. I thought foolishly that she was reaching for her sword, but instead her hand came away with her canteen as she barked at the nearest soldiers. "If you have an ounce of honor in your hearts, give these children whatever you food and drink you have!"


    I was shamed by my thought, but I would find penance through my actions.


    I dismounted from my horse and moved to command nearby Wardens the same.


    Then, as always, the King of Wisdom spoke.


    His voice colder than I ever thought before.


    "Ayah, stop them." His foremost and always-present Champion moved, and suddenly she was ahead of us both. The speed with which she acted belied her true strength as our rival. However, even as we knew we could fight her together, the King of Wisdom spoke once more. No, this time, he yelled out a name into the air. "Ilych!"


    There was a moment, a brief moment, where I froze, and the next moment there a sound like a whistling rock sent from a trebuchet coming towards us.


    Ilych landed before the King of Wisdom as a mass of black plate, and with height that rivalled that of Conquest. All present knew her. One of two foremost Champions of the King of Wisdom whom he entrusted the most daring and terrible of missions. Some called her the Ebony Demon. Others the Bloodthirsty Titan. Yet, most prominent of her titles, was the Sword of Wisdom. A Champion that the King of Wisdom sent forth to kill, destroy, and murder.


    There was only one reason that came to mind for why he would call her here.


    To do what must be done without a hint of hesitation.


    "What madness is this, King of Wisdom!?" Conquest roared and growled, drawing both her blades, and her guards came forward to her side as did her mount. They all formed a wall around the children. They discerned what was to come the moment they arrived. "These children are innocent! Not soldiers that you may ask your executioner to kill!"


    I did not know what to do.


    Doubt wormed into my heart, as the man I admired and wished for set upon a course my mind and soul told me to bar him from.


    Yet, even if I took up my sword, I looked upon the being called Ilych and felt true, paralyzing fear.


    She said not a word behind her the snarling mask of her full helm. The tattered cloak at her back flared with the wind like giant, batlike wings. The segmented armor that she wore seemed to menace and writhe as though it were alive, thirsty for blood. The King of Wisdom, who had dismounted from his horse, barely reached her navel in height, such was her stature that she was nearly taller than Conquest, and was far, far more heavily armored¡­ and armed.


    A black belt across her waist was covered in pouches and blackened daggers. A firearm much like the ones wielded by the Guardians'' Undead was on her right hip, but it was of a make unlike any other I''d seen before. It had a cylinder before the barrel, and the barrel itself was obscene in size. Then, finally, there was the blood-drinking sword that she used, which drank the life of its victims and emboldened its user. She held it with one hand, yet it was a full two hands longer than she was tall, and the tales of her cutting through ogres with one swing resounded in my mind.


    Would Conquest and I even be able to stagger her step?


    However, as the question resounded with my mind and the titan''s snarling helmet bore down upon me, the King of Wisdom spoke again.


    "This land is bereft of supplies. This group of children is too large and unskilled to feed themselves and survive here for long, especially with infants." His voice was calm and collected as always, but there was an anger to it that I had never heard before. Swathed in brown traveling clothes, wearing a hood and a coat, the only sign of his station was on his lapel. A bright, glittering crest of a golden crow with its wings spread and with arrows in one claw and a scroll in the other. However, it was the Staff of Cleanse that he held in his hands, the scepter that saved so many lives on this trip already that drew my attention. "I have my suspicions, and I hope that I am wrong, but please do not approach the children until we are sure that they were not sent her with ill intent."


    My blood stilled at those words.


    The implication alone sent a chill through my bones.


    Conquest froze as well, along with her troops, and her nose suddenly flared¡­ and she sheathed her swords and looked to her men.


    Her voice was filled with a tiredness and emptiness when she spoke again.


    "My apologies. You have the right of it, King of Wisdom. The scent of disease, myriad, clings to them. I had not noticed with my blood running hot." The Conqueror Champion moved away from the children and so did many of the men who had moved to help them. The children themselves seemed confused. Perhaps, they did not know what they carried. "Save them, please."


    "I shall do my best." He held no ill will to her and even gave her a nod, as he moved past her. "Ilych, set the perimeter. The rest of the troops will continue to march. Have a quartermaster set up here so we can start seeing these children sent back."


    Ilych nodded in reply and sheathed her massive blade at her back and walked after him.


    For a brief moment, she was in front of me as she walked to him, and I was in her shadow.


    Despite all my power and might, all my senses told me to run.


    Though I knew that I could return to life, my legs demanded that I flee.


    All of me demanded that I supplicate and surrender.


    This woman has bathed in the lives of tens of thousands of monsters and mortals. Not only that, but she was laden with artifacts and magics from head to toe and was one of the last true graduates of the Academy before it fell. Her entire life was that of warfare and destruction, whilst raised by a legendary Champion herself.


    And, her loyalty was to a liege with unparalleled wisdom and guile.


    A thought occurred to me as they walked forth to confront the latest of the Scholars'' mad schemes.


    The two that I looked upon will surely carve their legend into time itself.

 V4: Chapter 7:

    V4: Chapter 7:


    ¡­


    Game: "Oh, you''re having fun? Think fast, chucklefuck." ''Throws diseased kids at you.''


    Then, the game proceeds to throw the ''diseased children'' event your way, so if you don''t have the Staff of Cleanse or a support character with disease cure, you get to enjoy a whole army stack being diseased¡­ if you don''t slaughter kids. If you do, you''ll get half morale for three battles, which means you may as well go home, cause you''re not winning any fights with half morale.


    Anyway, the event''s a real kick in the balls for people going the pillage, ravage, and destroy the enemy route. In-game, it can only spawn if you''ve razed most of the enemy villages and settlements, and things were looking real dire for the enemy to the point they''re willing to use kids as disease carriers. Honestly, it''s one of the worst events you can trip over if you don''t have the right Artifact or the right Champion. And, even if you do have the right stuff and the right person, you only get a permanent smidge of Influence to your name for the dead.


    Like 5 permanent Influence every turn for the whole game.


    In twenty turns (5 years), I get to recruit a t1 Unit for free, whoop-de-doo.


    Whatever, it''s a curveball event to fuck over speedrunners who use unethical tactics to roll over the game.


    I''ll exploit the reward and turn the story against the Scholars, keep my troops marching forward, and get what I needed to do done.


    As horrific as everything we''re doing as, as terrible it is to go and kill so many people, and force people to take children and use them as vectors of disease¡­ the real shitshow is looming a few years in the horizon.


    I couldn''t back down, we needed this win, and I needed that Third Citadel and more for a chance to win.


    In short, even though my actions are leading to horrific acts like this, I needed to keep moving forward.


    Sunk cost fallacy?


    Yeah, no.


    If this doesn''t work out, everyone on the continent dies in one of several horrific ways.


    I''m taking the easy way out that doesn''t involve me getting, at minimum, turned into a living piece of furniture with the inability to go crazy or get used to the pain of being living furniture.


    Yeah.


    I''m going to keep going, despite how far I''m going to push everyone else to try and beat me.


    Losing ain''t an option.


    ?


    We started encountering organized resistance once the Citadel of the Scholars of the Skies were in view.


    In the shadow of the massive Citadel, the first real battles of the war began.


    And, naturally, the Scholars of the Skies were found wanting on the open field.


    "They fight like cowards whether on the field of battle or outside it." Conquest spat onto the floor. It was a thick globule that was scarlet in color. The Orc woman was covered head to toe in Goblin blood. "The field is yours, King of Wisdom."


    Ilych came forward just after Conquest and threw something on the floor.


    The entire upper torso of the enemy leader.


    Carried the corpse of the male Goblin around on her belt like it was a plush toy.


    Feeling pretty cute, might go out with my new pickup plush later, uwu.


    "Tried to flee. Failed."


    "Thanks. I''ll have someone bring it to the Undead to see what they can pry out of it." The Undead, in-game, had the ability to converse with the dead. But only the ''strong'' dead, like Champion and officers, who had the strength of will and ability to persist a bit after dying. They gained Clandestine Information, which was used as a resource in the Espionage Layer for the game. Things weren''t clearly separated in real life, so we could use the resource just fine in the regular overlay. "Where''s Sirena?"


    "Here. My wounds needed to heal." The Dark Elf arrived and looked absolutely pristine. Well, Ilych looked pristine too, but her armor cleaned itself. Not a fair comparison. The Saintess of the Wardens was immaculate after wading into battle and tearing through the enemy front. She called her spells holy and divine, but I just watched her wave her hand and turn thirty Goblin spearmen into meat paste, like a divine hammer fell from up high and smashed them. Magic or melee? Why not both? Healing, too? Why not. That''s what a Champion is in this world. Someone who can do practically everything. "They are a tenacious foe, but their spirit cannot make up for their lack of righteousness."


    Righteousness = sheer power, in this case.


    "Then, we can continue to move." I deployed the three of them alone into the battlefield. There were only two or three hundred troops, so it was just XP fodder for Champions. Micro-management is a lot easier while actually present than in game. I just needed to say it, and it happened, and I didn''t need to split army stacks, get all the Champions in one place, form an army of them, and throw them at the enemy after clicking the warnings away. Yes, game, I know I''m only sending Champions against the enemy. It''s not a mistake. It''s the meta. "Tell everyone that we''re moving again."


    The battle took less than an hour, as I expected, so the rest of the army hadn''t dismounted. Soldiers had taken the time to nap, to sit, or to get some snacks in, but beyond that we hadn''t paused for long. That raiding force was probably meant to buy a day or so of time, but three wrecking-balls to the face that didn''t need to wait to line up into formation was hard to counter.


    In other words, if they wanted to slow me down, they needed to come up to me with an army of their own.


    Which, of course, they wouldn''t do unless they had more advantages at their disposal.


    "Tell the troops down the line to double the patrols on our flanks. This may have been a distraction. Ilych, Conquest, and Sirena, I need the three of you spaced out along the army. If an enemy force tries to take our flanks, you hit them hard until a force can be mustered by the segment of the army you''re with." I couldn''t ignore ''real'' tactics, even if it wasn''t possible in the game. The Scholars had enough time and production with their Citadel to produce an army or two while we approached. If they conscripted their civilian population, they''ll be able to get three. I mean, they''ll guarantee that they''ll never reach endgame if they eat their own population, but they could do it to try and survive now. "I''ve set up a quick-reaction-force with each section of the marching army. Consider yourselves temporarily appointed to them."


    "I see. It shall be done. The Conquerors will earn their prize." Conquest agreed readily.


    "The Wardens shall not fail you, King of Wisdom." Sirena did so as well.


    Ilych''s silence on the matter told me she didn''t.


    "You''ll be a few rows behind me. If there''s any danger, you can leap on over." I knew her well enough to grasp what she was thinking without her saying a word. The armored titan of a Champion was an enigma most of the time, but in a few cases it was easy enough to figure her out. "I''m plenty protect her, you know?"


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    That was enough to mollify her and she nodded, before leaving just as Sirena and Conquest did.


    Once they were gone, Ayah approached and spoke to me, disguised in full plate as always.


    "They are probing us for weakness."


    "I know." The war host began to move and I got up from my chair, which was fetched and taken to the nearest carriage along with the table and map I''d been looking at. The small spot of shade given to me by a raised tarp was taken down, too. I took the reins of my horse and got atop him. Atrax, hopefully, wasn''t going to meet the same terrible fate as the horse I took his name from. "But they''re wasting their time and their men. They should just surrender, really."


    "Overconfidence can lead to your death, Jack." Ayah opined seriously.


    "It can. But this isn''t confidence." I looked over my shoulder as she got onto a horse herself. Behind us the war host stretched into the distance. Long segmented snake of an army which had patrols above and its back. The supply train of the army was defended rigorously and every few days we set up an outpost on the ruins of a village for our aerial force to use¡­ and for backline troops to use as a base to hunt down enemies in the rear. "This is just a fact. The Scholars don''t have anything that can stop this. They simply don''t have the time."


    The cold, brutal truth of logistics was plain and apparent.


    The Scholars faced four nations with Citadels, while their lands were burned, razed, and only their Citadel remained. The resource disparity, in terms of production and manpower and logistical capacity couldn''t be denied.


    Still, Ayah had a point.


    It paid to be cautious.


    "Still, you''re right. We should be careful." I took a measured breath and nodded before giving the next command. "Get Ilych back here. Instead of security, we''ll have her on the front where she belongs."


    Time for a good, old tactic.


    Force a dilemma down the enemy''s throat, so they''re too busy to fuck with me.


    Think fast, Scholars.


    Are you going to try and do something against my army, or are you going to do something about the murder-blender I''m sending your way?


    ?


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    "You should be protecting our king."


    "I would, if he didn''t order me to look after you." I spoke and leapt from the tree top. My cloak flared before I reached the ground and my landing upon slickened soil was quiet. "You''re encountering more opponents than expected."


    "They have decided to try and kill me, instead of the main army." Ilych stated the matter simply, as though speaking of the weather. She had her blade hefted on her shoulder. Before her and around her were fifty bodies. These weren''t Scholars, but those of various races. Mercenaries. Well armed and armored too. Plate over chain mail. Armor darkened. Weapons dripping with poison. None came close to using them. There was one of the Merchant Tribes with the blood of a bear, nearly twice Ilych''s height and nearly thrice as wide, and covered in more armor than a horse for a knight. His upper half was ten meters away from his lower half and his massive maul gripped tightly in his hand. "This is good."


    The plan had been simple.


    Send forth Ilych to raid and pillage on her own. An army of one, which would cause untold damage and harm, while the rest of the host lumbered forward. If she was ignored, then she would wreak havoc and kill. If she was not, then she would kill, while the host would march unimpeded. Over the course of two days and nights, Ilych sallied forth and found none that could match her. Once, Rita had to accompany her, as she did against the Guardians of the Moon.


    Now, Ilych did it on her own.


    "Supplies?"


    "Right here." I handed over the bag of supplies that I carried for her. It was as large as my torso and contained only the essentials for Ilych. It was unfurled in the middle of the blood-soaked battlefield. Munitions, rations, and water. All that Ilych would need to continue her fight. It seemed to not be enough. "Let me help."


    Ilych nodded and handed her the ''revolver.''


    The large weapon''s cylinder opened, and I cleaned it and filled it with powder and shot, before carefully adding the ''primer'' caps to the end which the hammer would strike. Those were still highly experimental. These were the newest iteration, but they still needed improvement, according to our King. Nonetheless, the practicality of the weapon was apparent. With one blast, armor became meaningless and there were many large soldiers and mercenaries around who were felled by the weapon. Holes the size of fists were punched through their armor and out their back.


    This sight was familiar to me now.


    "How goes the march?" Ilych removed her helmet. Some would expect the face of a monster beneath its snarling visage. Instead, there was a mane of raven-black hair, a sharp set of features, and glittering emerald eyes. Between handsome and beautiful, she had no ferocity in her visage, and she took in the battlefield with eyes bereft of any loathing or hate. There was only the look of a job well done. She consumed the water and rations provided to her with one gauntleted hand, uncaring of the scent of blood and corpses around us. "How many days lie ahead?"


    I was about to answer when Ilych suddenly spear tackled me, with her free hand redonning her helmet.


    A second later, a tree behind us burst apart, then we heard the crack of a gunshot.


    I took in the trajectory of the strike, took in the crack of the bullet, and traced the treeline in the distance. My eyes went across the forest. Not on the ground, the bullet raced downward. The noise had bounced off the ground, too. The bullet reached us and we heard the crack three heartbeats apart. A kilometer away. The wind was blowing in an easterly direction, and the birds in one section of treeline are higher than all the others.


    There.


    A Child of the Elm, hefting a rifle as long as she was tall, was now readying herself to leap from tree to tree.


    Too late.


    I took my bow, got my arrow, and loosed it at her as Ilych''s tackle took us to safety.


    The moment she let me go, my arrow speared the head of my former kin.


    "Dead?"


    "Dead." I confirmed but kept my eyes on the tree line. No further shots came. The moment I spoke. Ilych leaned against a tree and pushed up her helm to continue eating. "I''ll keep watch."


    "Thank you."


    The words were concise and simple, but they were enough, and I leapt upward and reached the nearest branch with bow readied as I strained my eyes and senses.


    Ilych ate below me, just a few paces away from the last battle she made, and a chilling thought occurred to me.


    I gazed at the tree that the bullet had struck and my fears were confirmed.


    The tree was sagging, sloughing, and crushing itself under its own weight.


    That bullet had not been enough to kill Ilych, but the payload would''ve had a chance.


    The Scholars were producing diseases and having children try to ferry them into our army.


    Would they not also have the means to create poisoned weapons of great potency for their army?

 V4: Chapter 8:

    V4: Chapter 8:


    ¡­


    In-game, poison is garbage. A complete meme. Could you win with it? Sure. Why would you subject yourself to that? Probably for fake internet points, or the sake of completion.


    On paper, the damage is great, even in the late game. The damage is percentage based, meaning even the highest biological HP unit will go down to poison eventually. Technically, you can put a dot of poison on a T3 endgame, biological unit and just kite it until the end of time. However, you can''t stack that dot, that dot can be removed by any medic/cleric/healing unit in the game automatically, and poison gives no debuffs.


    An endgame unit that''s going to die in ten minutes still has the DPS of an endgame unit.


    Most Champions are also immune or resistant to poison, making applying it to them a worthless exercise, because it''ll either do decimal points of damage or just not work.


    Overall, my poison-only playthrough was awful and I resolved to never do it again.


    I mean, I won, but it took too damn long and the cost was immense. Money, manpower, and municipalities were lost just to get that win. Something that I couldn''t afford now.


    However, now, I was confronted with a different issue.


    Poison in real life was far, far more effective. Lore-wise, which meant in reality for my current state of existence, the various tiers of poison are absolutely horrific. It''s chemical warfare augmented with magic and sci-fi technology. Damage-over-time modifiers that affect T3/Endgame units aren''t just some sap or distillation of a plant''s secretions. They''re flesh-tearing, tumor-creating artificial viruses/microorganisms that are capable of traveling metaphysically to dampen your connection to magic, selectively erase memories of loved ones that can keep you fighting, and they kill you so hard that your next reincarnation''s guaranteed to be an abortion.


    In other words, that shit''s real serious, and they''re held back for fair and balanced gameplay reasons.


    Y''know, like chemical weapons and bioweapons back in my old world.


    But that''s not the case in my current life.


    Here and now?


    I was in a world where chemical/biological warfare was going to go absolutely apeshit.


    Yeah.


    It''s time to start my own Operation Paperclip and get these warcriminals on my payroll.


    ?


    "Such malign weaponry bereft of honor, yet you desire the acquiring of their makers?" Conquest, naturally, was less than pleased with my announcement. "Are you not above such despicable tactics, King of Wisdom?"


    "I''ve already told you once, but I''ll say it again: for my people, I am willing to bear any sin and horror." We gathered all together in a tent. It was nighttime and the army was settling down for the evening. Well, a part of it was. Many people were patrolling and killing raiding parties. The din of battle around the main marching force was constant. Thankfully, the Undead were tireless and took up the nighttime security. A lot of people complained about the constant sound of rifles firing in the evening, but soldiers slept better whilst protected. "I advise your people to do the same. Every advantage we can get in the battles against the foes of the Ancients is a necessary one."


    I''m dedicated to committing what would be considered war crimes back in my world.


    The problem was convincing the factions on the ''good'' end of the alignment chart to do the same.


    "Victory at the cost of all that we hold dear and the virtues we aspire to?" Celia offered her own thoughts on the matter. Lady, you dig up graves to make walking musket turrets and use the corpses of flying small animals as munitions. The Vampire took note of my dry look her way, which was mimicked by many others present at the table. She cleared her throat and stood straighter. "I¡­ I suppose that my people have little say in the matter."


    "Poisons and disease are the weapons of the unjust and corrupted, King of Wisdom." Sirena provided her totally factual and not-at-all biased thoughts on the matter. You''re really lucky that you''re hot. Oh, and that I need Khalai''s forces. That''s important, too. Otherwise, I''d look for a way to get rid of you, because you make life hard¡­ in multiple¡ªdammit, being on the road means I don''t have time to take care of my damn urges! "However, it is intent which turns tools into instruments of justice and faith. My people will look towards using these weapons against foes such as those faced by our ancestors, but we shall never use it against mortals¡­ even the likes of the Scholars."


    Huh, 1 for 3, and it''s the religious fanatic faction that''s willing to coat their blades in poison and disease to use against the apocalypse.


    A better result than I expected in all honesty.


    "Then, with that aside, we need to consider what we can do against the Scholars. We''re not just heading into a siege, but a siege where the enemy is entrenched and willing to use poison-based warfare. Even with all our forces, there will be many casualties. I can''t be everywhere at once." The Staff of Cleanse could deal with the poison. In-game, you could cast it during battle over hundreds of soldiers at once in a massive circle. Its range was massive here too, but battlefields weren''t constrained by player patient and system requirements here. I couldn''t reasonably heal everyone of poison. Even if I tried to, people will die before I get to them. "I have an idea, but it carries great risk. I hope that you would all led me your ears."


    Glances were shared amongst those gathered.


    Celia, Conquest, and Sirena were the relevant authorities of the allied armies present with my token force. Mine was largely skirmishers, logistical personnel, and some people who could hold ground against cavalry. I mean, I was here to solve the events, but if any of them said no, then there wasn''t much I could do.


    "If you hesitate to say it, then it must truly be a terrifying idea and a great risk." Celia shook her head, but remained at the table. Thanks Imperial-revivalist vampire princess, I appreciate your vote of confidence. "I am willing to hear you out, if only to end this war with as few casualties as possible."


    "With risk comes glory, and I asked you myself to give my people the chance to pay righteously for the prize we are to take. Speak and I shall listen." Conquest gave a nod and crossed her arms. Kyaa, how cool! No, that wasn''t sarcastic at all. Conquest is just great.


    "The Wardens have faith in you, King of Wisdom. Doubt shall not cloud our hearts and minds. Say what needs be done, and it shall be done." Sirena was the one I was sure would agree to me without hesitation and I wasn''t surprised when she did. After a small bow, she raised her head. "All that fall in your service shall be martyrs who will be praised by all."


    Man, I really shouldn''t make plans that rely on religious fanatics in any capacity, but I couldn''t afford the luxury of choice.


    "As you all know, a coup was attempted on the Citadel that I now hold. My rule over my lands came when Lord Khanrow gave me his ring and trust. The tales say he died valiantly in battle against many, but such is not the case. Those who tried to take the Citadel were few¡­ Champions and the finest warriors of his army." I lied through my teeth. Even the kernels of truth that were suppose to be in the lie were created by Khanrow to mislead and hide his existence. Everyone believed it, and even now it was the ''start'' of my story, which was pervasively flooding through the whole continent. "I suggest that we do the same. Infiltrate their lands with the finest warriors we have, then strike at the Citadel and steal it from them before either of our armies clash."


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    "Underhanded, yet bold and brave at the same time." Conquest was the first to provide her opinion on the matter. For the first time since we encountered the disease-carrying kids, she seemed content and satisfied. This was something that she understood. "It will be a battle of Champions against Champions forced upon the Scholars, despite their lack of honor and tactics. The war plan has my support."


    "The risk is immense. If we are trapped in the Citadel, if any of us perish, our people will be at grave risk. Each of us holds great weight amongst our peoples, and there is no chance of our bodies being recovered for the sake of resurrection." Celia provided her concerns, but she nodded after stating them. "But it is better than a prolonged siege against insidious foes. Who knows how far the Scholars would take their futile struggle, after all that they have done? This risk is worth taking, if only to forestall any crazed actions made by them. I approve."


    Sirena bowed her head my way as a sign that the plan has her support.


    Alright then.


    Plan: just fuck the Scholar''s shit up with power-levelled Champions from four different factions is go.


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ¡­


    Desperation.


    Despair.


    Death.


    All these things permeated the Scholars'' Citadel.


    The streets were teaming and clogged with bodies. Refugees lined the walls of buildings trying to peddle anything for a scrap of bread. Some sold their bodies, others what little precious things they had left, but it was all the same. They were dishevelled, forgotten, and dying on the streets in droves, while the Scholars'' turned their Citadel solely into a factory for war.


    The everlasting gardens within churned out poisonous plants or hemp for rope or wood for the sake of fortifications. All the food it produced only went to soldiers, and many times they were dosed with medicines from the machines that created medicines. Scholar soldiers were growing rapidly, some breaking limbs with ease even as they grew in stature and strength, while their citizenry starved.


    The foundries churned out weapons and armor, while buildings that were shoddily created crumpled and killed those who sought shelter within them. Nothing was spared to repair wagons that lay broken in the streets for days, or to repair pipes that cracked due to increased use, or even fixing the gears of wells. Everything was for the sake of war.


    The various eyes that the Citadel had were turned outward instead of in, allowing agents such as myself to walk in the streets with all the other refugees. The fact that I was not a Scholar, that I was one of a scattering of other races should''ve meant that I would be watched, but the few times I tested it¡­ none came to try and find and arrest me. Opportunists teamed the streets, entire tribes of them, and they killed and stole as they pleased with only cullings by military forces keeping them in check.


    The Scholars were dying, their nation a rotting corpse, and their struggle was only causing needless suffering for their people.


    And, if I did not do my duty correctly, they would spread that suffering to my people, too.


    I turned into an alley as soon as I felt a message slip into my pocket and I read its contents.


    After memorizing it, I ate it, and went on to do what I needed to do.


    An assassination attempt within the Scholars Citadel using the combined might of all the Champions present in the coming army.


    Jack intended to risk everything to slit the throat of this dying nation.


    I approved.


    So, I moved through the shadows of the land towards my destination, hunching over my back as I re-entered the streets. I also turned my cloak inside out, and took a stick to use as a walking cane. One man entered the alley, covered in rags, and out the other side came forth a hunchbacked beggar using a cane.


    I opened my ears and listened.


    The cries of children and the silent struggling of parents swaddling them in rags.


    The muted and desperate steps of those heading to work to do anything to forestall the inevitable.


    Then, finally, the sound of chain armor.


    Mercenaries from all over the continent were coming here, not only promised gold, but weapons from the Citadel''s forges. The Scholars were arming future banditry with blades that could cut through all but steel plate and armor that would allow them to wade into peasant villages with little fear. In their desperation, they were poisoning the future, too.


    Still, I followed after them to secure entry.


    Soon enough, I was in earshot of two young men, both with bandages on their arms, as they made their way towards an inn.


    "¡ªsurely, you''re not actually thinking of leaving, right?"


    "Why the hell wouldn''t I? This place is a death trap! We both nearly died on what was supposed to be a patrol! These Scholars are using us as meat shields!"


    "But the weapons and the money¡ª


    "Neither will be of any use with me dead!"


    Even their mercenaries were losing spirit, despite the promises and payments made.


    I followed them, watching them, as they made their way past a checkpoint where no refugees were allowed past.


    A guard looked at me, but I palmed a coin into his hand, and he looked away as I followed them.


    The streets were clearer here, but they were little better. The air still stank of sewage, the streets were filled with trash, and many doors and windows bore scratches or had broken panels. The houses were built sturdy here, and they got sturdier as the walls around the Citadel grew closer. These were not homes, but fortifications. They intended to fight from house to house.


    Jack''s decision was rapidly becoming the only correct course of action I could imagine.


    The two mercenaries entered an inn, and after I changed into a more stately appearance with a shortsword obvious on my hip and armor more noticeable, I entered after them as one of their own kin.


    I spied my target as I walked to the barkeeper and ordered ale.


    There was a Scholar surrounded by guards in the corner of a room, arguing with a heavily-injured mercenary and his companions.


    His remaining companions.


    I spied on the Scholar''s table sheets of permits, many the same the mercenaries used to entire past the military checkpoint, but there was a gleaming, white crest on his lapel that caught my attention. It was the same which the walls of the Citadel dispensed from its gate posts, which allowed entry past the walls.


    That would be my target.

 V4: Chapter 9:

    V4: Chapter 9:


    ¡­


    If I were the Goblins, I''d quit the game and restart instead of trying keep going with the shitshow that they had going.


    "My lord?"


    "Just taking in the sights, let''s keep moving."


    "I see."


    Ayah nodded and kept within reach of me, as I kept myself small and hidden amongst them. Well, as small and hidden as their pack-carrier could be. While Rita, Ilych, Ayah, Conquest, and Celia played the part of a wandering mercenary group, in different outfits and colors and armor than they usually wore, I was the camp tender following them with a donkey in tow laden with supplies.


    There were loads of other tenders doing the same thing.


    Small bands of mercenaries with highly-effective individuals hired people to tend to their camps while they travelled around. By my count, there were a bunch of other groups with camp tenders, with some groups having the start of wagon trains forming at their back. They reminded me of my second childhood in the warband, and I didn''t like it one bit.


    Mercenaries reeked of desperation tactics, and they honestly shouldn''t be used to hold ground. They cost too much to upkeep, so the best way to use them was to throw them into the meatgrinder. You don''t need to pay them, if they''re dead, and if your Influence is high enough you can get them for free on the first turn¡­ and get them killed as a destruction, so you don''t have to pay for them the second turn.


    Have some dignity and quit, especially if you''re going to put up a shitty fight like this.


    I mean, what''s your endgame with all these slums, this crime rate, and focusing everything on industry to pump out units? Even if I pull everything out, even if you somehow win, you''ll still lose in the midgame. There''s no point in winning this war, if you''re just going to lose the next one. Just give up, surrender, and fucking give me the guns and people and industry that I need to win the game! All you''re doing is killing off your people, depleting the treasury that I could use, and ruining everything!


    You have dirt roads surrounding slums covered in shit!


    You''re using your military to keep civil order!


    Your people are dying of starvation on the streets!


    Have a spec of self-respect, or a shred of shame, and just accept you''ve lost, dammit!


    With that steaming in my head, I followed after the strike team that I hoped would end this farce before we had to go into a shitty siege that gets way too many people killed.


    Yeah, I don''t even care if I''m setting the precedent that Champions should be used as assassins.


    This is a bullshit scenario cooked up by people who can''t get their heads out of their asses.


    I wouldn''t entertain this situation with my attention or time, if I didn''t need to.


    Unfortunately, I needed to, so here I fucking am!


    ?


    "You seem displeased." Khanrow met up with me in disguise as an old, hunchbacked crown. After he gave me the documents that we needed, we had a bit of time while the rest of the team finished up their distraction. Conquest was putting dudes arms through tables, Ayah and Ilych were getting a few dudes down to their underwear through dice, and Celia retired for the evening. Rita stayed close since she knew Khanrow was here. "I''ve heard that the Scholars have done some foolish things."


    "They believe in survival at any cost. I''d applaud them if they did all this to win, but at this point it''s just spite." I can''t exactly convey my disdain for the sort of players who play poorly just to fuck over the rest of the game. If you''re going to lose, at least lose with some dignity. Nope. Here and now, the Scholars were ruining chances for everyone else to win by not throwing in the towel. "What do you believe? Would you fight to the bitter end, or just surrender before all is lost in the return of the Ancient''s foes?"


    "Ah, I see. I see. That is true. It would be better to surrender and not risk the deaths of so many people who could work and fight. Not only that, but many things are at risk because of the war that the Scholars have decided to continue."


    I was about to launch into a tirade, but I decided against it.


    "No point in speaking about it any further. We simply need to do what needs to be done. How do we seize their Citadel?"


    Khanrow nodded.


    "They do not trust the Citadel and have not occupied it. Instead, they have fortified and housed themselves in the space between its outer walls and the structure itself." Okay, it looks like the Scholar''s paranoia was working out for us. "However, they''ve been able to produce many, many Citadel Guardians. From my agents and my own''s deductions, we''ve sighted over three hundred of them in constant patrols of four or more, always in quick reach of one another."


    "They abandoned a defensible position, but created their own."


    "Correct, one that I don''t believe we can overcome with brute force." Khanrow provided another map and a quick glance at it revealed numerous patrol routes in different colors and dozens and dozens of pips. "Five minute intervals between each patrol. If you attack one, you must expect two to reinforce it from the same line within seconds and three from the line above and three from below. One patrol taken out means having to face nine squads of these Guardians at once¡­ and their destruction alerts the others."


    "Then, fighting the Citadel guardians is out of the question."


    "Yes, but this strength is also their weakness."


    "A distraction?"


    "Correct. One that doesn''t endanger our own troops and makes use of the populace in the surrounding slums."


    Kill the guards, incite a riot, and have that riot distract hundreds of murder machines while an assassination team sneaks through.


    It really sucks that it''s actually a good way to save lives in the grand scheme of things.


    Still, there were things that we could do to make it so that the riot turned into an inferno, which could only be put down with the Guardians.


    "Put people in there in disguise to guide the riots and take up leadership positions. Make sure that a lot of them are armed. If you can find criminals, make sure that they know how to avoid the masses, so that they can cause their own problems." The policing infrastructure in this reality wasn''t nearly as good as my world, and these tactics overwhelmed the boys-in-blue more often than not. "Get bandits from the outlying territories, too, but they should only come in once the chaos is set. Make sure that they''re armed. How long do you think that will take?"


    Khanrow contemplated for a moment before giving a swift, decisive nod.


    "Give me five days."


    I ran the numbers in my head.


    "Our forces will arrive here in ten." I had the march slow down to conserve soldiers and build up supplies for the siege. It was a calculated risk. The Scholars got more preparation in, but so did I. "We can launch the riot two days before the army arrives. Make it seem like the population is cracking under the strain, and put the pressure on the Scholars to act quickly, too."


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "Aye, that sounds good."


    The Scholars are pretty smart, but the trick to dealing with smart people is giving them problems that have terrible answers.


    Alright, you disease-spreading, poison-spreading, and tech-fearing smartasses¡­ I''m going to have an army at your city gates, riots in your city, and numerous criminal organizations pillaging your city in a few days.


    How exactly are you going to stop the assassination team coming in at full speed straight for your upper leadership?


    ?


    Interlude: Celia


    ?


    The closer I was to him, the vaster the chasm was that lay between the two of us.


    Upon arrival to the Scholar''s city, a city not his own and where his identity was entirely secret, he made commands to his hidden agents¡­ and within days the city began to change according to his will. The speed of the change was breakneck and terrifying. Seemingly overnight, the city went from sturdy and ready to withstand a siege, to simmering with rage at itself.


    There was crime and poverty and unhappiness when we arrived, but there was an order to things.


    An order that could be expected of a city when an army was nearing its gates.


    The people were enduring, the military was stoic and ready, and the mercenaries were tense.


    However, as his orders were carried out, the world began to change all around us.


    The people began to gather around speakers that spoke of injustice and poverty and the plans of their elites to use them as fodder. Gatherings of the normal folk, not even the refugees, became electrified and spurred to action. The weapons that were being handed out disappeared within minutes of being offered into the vastness of the populace, even as the military began to notice and try to crack down.


    The military, so stoic and controlled in the face of an impending siege, began to be overstretched, lose patience, and lose soldiers. Some abandoned their posts, others began to act to save their families, and a few joined the ranks of the dissatisfied. There were many who stayed true to their cause, who tried to do as they ordered, but they soon began to spill the blood of their kin and those they were meant to protect again and again.


    Then, there were the criminals, already brazen to roam the streets. He armed them, spoke to them through intermediaries, and guided them. Though they had their own leaders and own insufferable ideals, they soon became puppets dancing to his strings. The information that he provided to them was too good to ignore, the riches they gained from following him to greatness, and soon they were all built under his command.


    Some would say that his actions were unbefitting of nobility.


    Yet, I would ask them, can they think of a single individual of noble lineage which who would not abandon everything for the power Jack used now.


    Though the Scholars held the city, he held it soul within his hand, and he was ready to crush it.


    And, all I could do was practice my bladework behind the home he''d gained access to with but a few words and some coin.


    I knew that I could not compare with him, that I had to work and struggle to catch up, yet the chasm between him and I seemed to grow wider and wider the more time passed.


    "Kel." My false name reached me and it came from Conquest. She had furred leather vest, her chest covered in white bindings beneath it, and large pants. "Care for a spar to clear your head?"


    "Please." When she''d first asked me for a spar, I''d refused, but shortly after I agreed for the first time I''d found myself waiting for her. The Conqueror with the most auspicious name for their people was a fantastic warrior. "I would very much like to."


    "Sometimes, it''s better to just move rather than think." Conquest stated simply and went over to the rack beside the benches of the small townhome that was our domicile for the time being. "Whatever it is that you''re thinking, ponder it no longer¡­ and fight!"


    There was no cry of starting the match, only a leap from the massive woman and a two handed strike with a wooden facsimile of a broadsword. The grass blew apart when she halted the swing before it hit the ground, and her false sword followed after my sidestep. If I blocked the blow, I would be sent flying even after catching it with my weapon, so I ducked beneath it and aimed a strike at her liver with my pommel.


    Such a vicious blow would''ve stunned any Conqueror with pain.


    It would gravely injure most.


    Conquest merely gritted her teeth through it, brought her sword back over her head, and in an instant performed a downward strike.


    Simple, yet with such speed and refinement that I was forced to block it and endure all her strength.


    Even with a body meant for war, meant to be entering, and to endure across the ages, if fell to one knee just catching the blow and sliding it off my wooden blade. In a true battle, with steel against steel, my weapon''s edge would be ruined by her attack.


    Indeed, she did not fight solely with strength and power, but with guile and tactics.


    Every strike since the first was planned, executed, and my movements predicted.


    I learned from our first bout that fighting against her with my usual methods was a surefire method of defeat.


    Since then, I have adapted.


    Once more, I struck at her liver, past her green skin, and the firm layer of muscle above it. This time, however, it was not with the pommel of my wooden sword, but with my fist¡­ at the same spot ''pierced'' by my earlier blow.


    This time, Conquest was unable to withstand the blow, fell to a knee, and I didn''t hesitate to place my wooden blade''s ruined edge against her neck.


    She nodded in concession and I helped her up.


    In a moment, the faint bruise forming over her weakness faded, as her regeneration kicked in.


    There were no words that needed to be shared, only her nod of respect at my win and acknowledgement of my adaptation.


    The only words she spared was uttered as she gazed eastward.


    The flames of our coming army was like a second sun rising as the true sun set in west.


    "It''s time. Are you ready?" We both knew what was to happen now. This city was like a pot set to boil and its lid clamped shut. Its denizens were armed and organized. The criminals ready to steal and pillage. The army fatigued and dismayed after having to kill the people they were meant to protect again and again. "This evening, there will be little else besides rage and violence."


    I was surprised as I felt¡­ calm for the first time since I arrived in the city.


    The moment was here.


    It was no longer looming on the horizon.


    The time has come for the city to burn, for its people to wreak havoc, and for us to decapitate the Scholars before they could unleash whatever they planned.


    No more tricks.


    No more delays.


    No more fretting about what I lacked.


    Only battle until only the victorious remained at its end.


    "Aye, I feel ready."


    As I said those words, the first explosions echoed across the city, and the night when the Scholars would fall began in earnest.

 V4: Chapter 10:

    V4: Chapter 10:


    ¡­


    To summarize the Scholar city''s current situation:


    Tens of thousands of civilians were rioting thanks to me embedding leaders and agitators into the populace. Most of the criminal population were looting and pillaging, because I''ve armed them with weapons and information. The professional army was forced to fight against the people they''re meant to protect, because they can''t afford to have a city rioting with an army on the horizon. Finally, the mercenaries were tied up between making a quick buck helping the Scholars, or looting the city.


    The former ensured they''d be stuck inside the city for the siege.


    The latter gave them a chance to escape.


    Needless to say, the whole city was in chaos, and it was easy to see how this situation conferred massive debuffs to the health and siege protection of the city. A rioting city is a hell of a lot harder to keep in a siege that wasn''t. Normally, if a player found their city in a riot, they''ll be forced to use their stationed military units to put it down¡­ at the cost of losing those units, losing civilian population, and a long, long debuff to happiness.


    However, cities that surrounded Citadels had another option: deploying Citadel Guardians to take the city.


    And, just as planned, that''s what the Scholars did just a few hours into the night.


    "They''re here. Stay down." I manned a window with a telescope, while keeping an eye on the gates that lead into the innermost, command district of the Scholar''s city. The gates arose, and of them started marching the pure-white Citadel Guardians. They were in their specialized, anti-riot mode. Their arms were clubs instead of swords and their skittering legs were far less blade-looking than usual. They still looked a bit like pure-white, faceless Driders with weapons for every limb, but this riot form was far less deadly than their usual one. "The Scholars are deploying their Guardians."


    "How many?"


    "All of them. They want to end this matter quickly." I answered back, but gestured towards Ayah, who was observing me. "Start packing. These riots and looting won''t last long."


    The columns of Citadel Guardians marched forward and started grouping off in squads of six. They broke off from the column leaving through the gate and moved with speed and efficiency. Guided by the Citadel''s own gaze, they surged towards hot spots with the intent to capture criminals and scatter protestors. Guardian Pacification Protocol was a cheap and powerful way to keep your capital city in check, but it was something that you couldn''t use all the time.


    For example, it''s stupid to use it while you have an army in your city that''s gotten past your defenses, because those Guardians could be fighting them rather than your citizenry. It''s something that you use while your populace is rioting because of high unhappiness or something like that. A peacetime method of getting rid of dissent, while you focus on making your faction more efficient or while you get happiness-producing buildings up and running. You can only use it every six turns, and after it''s used, there''s a permanent -1 Happiness in your capital, which doubles every time you use it.


    You can only use it five times in a game for efficiency''s sake.


    Hm?


    Why do I know the exact cooldown and limits on how to use Guardians to destroy dissent in a city?


    Because¡­ not taking advantage of five turns without worrying about happiness is dumb? There''s a whole lot of things you can do when your populace can get as angry as they want, while none of it affects you. Overwork them, implement policies that lower the working age, conscript people into fodder. All of that is easily done when your people can''t do shit to you with all your automated, monstrously strong drones stop them whenever they try to inflict punishments on you. Again, though, using them while you''re under siege is a terrible idea, since all those Guardians quelling criminals and rioters aren''t on the wall. They''re also not searching your city for spies and other miscreants who want to do terrible things to your facilities, research labs, and Champions.


    Like right now.


    My little group of Champions finished equipping themselves within a minute of my statement and the windows were all opened as they did.


    We had the choice between scaling the wall, or charging through the opened gate, and we chose the path with the least amount of automated death machines.


    Up and over with the help of just a little magic and some elbow grease.


    ?


    Interlude: Rita.


    ?


    Ayah threw the platforms and as they neared the wall, our King casted his spell.


    It was a simple spell called Levitate.


    Apprentice mages learned it, and once cast, it would ensure that an object would float, while suspended in the air for a few minutes. It was used in construction and the transportation of items. In battle, it was useless, as being struck with any other spell would make it fall apart completely. The most it could do was create an ablative wall against mundane arrows, and there were better uses for power than such a futile defense. A barrier of wind would scatter arrows better.


    However, as Ayah led the way carrying our King in one arm, her free hand threw platforms forward, and we all ascended upward as one panel after another floated for a few moments¡­ and fell the instant they were unnecessary. Each platform only had to last for less than a minute, and even the heaviest of us could not overwhelm the capacity of each foothold.


    And, so, the massive wall which kept the Scholar''s innermost district protected was scaled within a few minutes and we reached the top of the wall¡­ and after dealing with the guards, we leapt forth from the wall''s other side.


    Our King, once more, cast a spell and our descent slowed, and we touched the ground with nary a noise.


    "I''ll need a bit of time to recover. Everything''s on you lot for now." He spoke steadily, but the sweat on his brow and his controlled breathing told a different story. He was no grand mage, but a diplomat and a leader, but he was the sole individual who could save us from poison and disease and work with Khanrow, thus he was here. Ayah carried him with great care and retreated to the back of our line. "According from our eyes above, we''re a straight shot towards the command center of the Scholars."


    "Then, I shall take the lead. Conquest with me. Lady Rita and Lady Ilych, fight with us when you see fit." It rankled me to follow another''s orders, but I calmed myself when our King nodded. The Vampire muttered a few words and from the ground arose a multitude of ghosts, and they began to walk in a myriad of directions, making noise and leaving footrails in their way. A clever use of Necromancy on her behalf, then she used another spell to conceal us with a faint shimmer of power and a ghostly veil seemed to meld us with the surroundings. "Let the two of us attract the poisons and spells. Strike them down from their flanks when they least expect it."


    "And, what of me, Vampire?" Sirena spoke in a hushed voice. Though her figure was muddled, I could see the Saintess cross her arms. Her challenge went unsaid, but it was clear. Even with our King''s words, she was not content to follow the leader of the Guardians. It was a matter of faith more than loyalty. "What shall you have me do?"


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "Stay beside Jack. Assist whomsoever needs the most help at your discretion. If you are not needed, then you shall be the force which shall break through the enemy when we retreat." To her credit, Celia did not wither at the question. Instead, she drew her blade as Conquest stood by her side, and they both walked forward out of the alley onto the main road. Our objective loomed ahead of us, surrounded by towards with search light and walled off from even the rest of the inner district. A fortress within the city with professional guards more metal than mortal. "Are you all ready?"


    "Ready."


    I spoke and so did everyone else, and the plan began.


    ?


    The most elite of the Scholars troops were creatures closer to machine than mortal. Many had their eyes replaced by glittering, red orbs housed in metal sockets embedded in their skulls. Others had additional, metal limbs attached to their shoulders. Nearly all had both their legs replaced by metal limbs with feet that could latch onto walls and surfaces with spike, allowing them to travel on solid terrain with great speed. Not only that, but they were also armed and armored with weapons from the Citadel, thus they were half-flesh, half-metal, and wielding potent equipment.


    Still, they could not compare to blooded Champions of the Guardians and the Conquerors.


    Conquest was a whirlwind within the fortress. After she roared a challenge and smashed through the main gate with a charge, her many weapons burst from magical sheathes hidden embedded in her armor and clothes. Spears, hammers, blades, axes, maces and more surged forth from her person at great speeds, some smashing into soldiers that came to oppose us, and others just scattering across the battlefield.


    Some would question why she would do such a thing, until they witnessed steel and wood break in her hands from the strength of her blows, as she annihilated soldier after soldier only to take another weapon up. While she had more powerful, enchanted weapons at her waist, she held them in reserve. The more common weapons were more than enough for the machine-mortal hybrids that she faced. With single strikes of any weapon she got her hands on, soldiers erupted into masses of flesh and metal, and when she deigned to use her magic, sharp blades of wind or focused masses of lighting killed those training weapons upon her from afar with ease.


    Conquest was a storm against which the Scholars had no answer.


    Celia, meanwhile, was like a slow, unstoppable predator walking in the midst of prey. Her movements were effortless as she walked with spectral undead following her like a retinue of guards. Ghostly hands stopped those charging at her, taking hold of legs from the ground, and with a flick of her wrist she decapitated those who were stopped. Those that leapt to try and reach her would be struck with spectral spears, doing little harm, but stopping them midair. They would then be dispatched by a blindingly fast thrust through they eye socket, and she twisted her blade as she withdrew it, utterly destroying the brain with two motions that almost seemed like one.


    Bullets and arrows aimed at her were slowed or diverted by the specters that guarded her, as she attacked them in turn with one of the pistols she had braced across her chest. Every loud shot of the weapon ended a life, and her specters reloaded her weapon as she continued to walk and kill whatever stood before her. Much like Conquest, she was conserving her strength for the Champions of the Scholars, and the elite soldiery could do little to threaten her.


    She was like a glacier moving through the courtyard before the command center. Implacable and unstoppable, the Scholars struggles against her seemed futile.


    Then, as they reached halfway to the doors, both Conquest and Celia paused in their rampant destruction of the guards and stepped closer to one another.


    The grand double-doors to command center opened, and Champions emerged.


    Four in number.


    Two of my former people, and two of the Scholars.


    "Lay down your weapons and you shall be treated with honor." Celia spoke, while the specters around her coalesced around her. The field condensed and formed like a knight at her back with countless spectral faces moving over its body. "The path the Scholars have chosen is bereft of both honor and righteousness. Children are being used to carry disease. Cities are being crashed into one another. All while a famine that will kill hundreds of thousands looms ahead of us all. Thrown down your weapons and surrender with your honor intact."


    The four Champions gave no answer save for the drawing of their weapons.


    And, in that instant, we all struck.


    I loosed my arrow and it surged forth from my bow. The ancient weapon forged by the Ancients let loose with a loud twang, the bow string sang as it threw the arrow forth. The arrow I sent was heard by my former kin and they immediately leapt away from where they stood, but one of the Scholar''s Champions was not so lucky. It caught him by his chest plate, caving it in, and throwing him through the double doors. He struck the arrow before it could get past his skin, diverting it into the ground, even as he crashed into a main staircase that lay behind the broken threshold.


    Ilych had surged alongside my arrow, just a bit slower, with her massive blade on her back. Her target was the other Scholar champion. Instead of armor, this one wore robes and wielded a staff of Ancient design. A mage Champion was always deadly, so she charged him and grasped his skull within her gauntlets and smothered his spells before they could be uttered. A moment later the mage''s skull broke apart as she smashed him into the wall beside the broken door, and when she let him go she did so while charging at the man whom I had failed to kill, drawing her blade from her back without so much as a wasted breath.


    My two former kin, meanwhile, had leapt away and were intercepted by Conquest and Celia.


    Conquest caught her foe by the leg mid-leap and swung him onto the ground. He tried to fire his arrows at her as she swung him down, but his efforts were in vain as winds came alive around her and batted them aside. He cratered the ground as he collided with it, but he remained hale enough to cast a frenzied flame at her with a sign of his hands and a whisper. The air barrier Conquest cast should''ve come alive with flame and enrobed her, but instead the flame collided the Conqueror¡­ and left her unscathed due to her resistances.


    He died when she took one of her enchanted blades and severed his skull from his body, while pinned to the ground.


    Celia''s foe died, too. That battle was too quick for me to notice with so many things occurring at the same time. All I saw was the desiccated corpse of my former kin, laying on the ground, desiccated and bereft of life as the Vampire loomed over her body.


    Only one Champion left, and he was being battered down by Ilych with Conquest and Celia approaching to assist, so I believed the battle over.


    Then, suddenly, the ground began to rumble, quake, and the familiar noise of explosives began to ring all around us¡­ and the Ancient Citadel let loose a keening wail of warning in the Ancient''s tongue.


    I only wondered for a second what the words meant when my King suddenly cried out.


    "To the Citadel, now! The Scholars intend to bring the Citadel crashing upon the entire city!"


    Flashes of a city burning, of so many dying, of all that I tried to help becoming corpses filled my vision.


    No!


    Not again!


    I won''t let them do this again!

 V4: Chapter 11:

    <div>


    <div>


    I really wished that I maxed out the Followers of the Smiling Tyrant district.


    Right now, they were at T2, and that provided a heap of benefits. The happiness boost of their performances increased, and the security the provided to domestic regions were improved. There''s no reason to not upgrade the sub-faction''s districts. They even had good on-field units once you reached T3, but their real benefit was that once you maxed them out, you gained their assistance on the espionage portion of the game wherever your culture reached as they infiltrated those places automatically posing as wandering minstrels, small-time merchants, unaffiliated performers, and so on.


    They provided a hefty increase to success rate depending on how culturally tied your opponent is to your culture.


    I think the meme for them was that the enemy leader and their guards are at an opera, only to discover the whole orchestra is packing heat.


    Funny stuff in-game.


    Pretty terrifying in real life.


    That wandering minstrel singing songs in the tavern? Actually gathering information for another nation.


    That street performer juggling on the corner? He can throw grenades and knives with deadly accuracy?


    That small-time merchant with only a wagon and a dream? That wagon''s filled with explosives and she''s going to disappear after setting it off to cause a distraction.


    Yeah.


    Grabbing the Followers of the Smiling Tyrant is important, not just because they provide bread, circuses, and security, but it also makes sure that they''re not against you.


    Anyway, with the Goblins'' current plan, I could''ve used some support from some wandering minstrels.


    They decided to go full scorched earth on me and the rest of the continent for fucking them over.


    ?


    "Ayah, I need good news."


    "The Citadel is holding. The explosives they''ve used have done little harm to it. Unfortunately, if there is sustained bombardment, the Citadel will begin casting off pieces to remain standing."


    "And, how much damage will that do?" In-game, Citadels were indestructible outside of bad endings. However, I knew things weren''t going to be that easy in my new life.


    "Catastrophic damage. The city will be destroyed and most of our army will suffer casualties." These bastards were going to be the death of me with their lateral thinking. I mean, I''m a bit impressed, but I''m more concerned with getting fucked over. "We should sound a general retreat and escape."


    A battle avoided is a battle won, but¡­


    "We need this Citadel in one piece. No, we need this city and its surroundings in one piece. Can you calculate where the next series of explosions will be? We could blow one up out of sync." I wasn''t sure if the idea would work, but it was worth a shot. The Scholars didn''t have anything that could make the big explosions that they needed, so I reasoned that they had to make things happen via other methods. This was probably a demolition job, and from what I recalled in my previous life, that needed a lot of planning and a lot of things to go right. "If we don''t take the risk and get this place under our control, our chances of losing escalate by far too much."


    Ayah was quiet for a moment, but I was sure that she was running the numbers in her head, and soon enough nodded.


    "I''ll go the most likely areas where they may be and detonate them manually. They will not harm me." Good. That''s a benefit of having someone on my retinue who could ignore the gun of a main battle tank with ease. There was going to be a problem though, I just knew it. "Lady Sirena, I will need your assistance."


    "But who will keep watch over the King of Wisdom?"


    "I can stay hidden just fine. It''s more important that this gets stopped." Thankfully, I had a lot of practice at keeping a straight face while terrified. Yeah, I''m going to be without guards in the middle of an infiltration mission, while most of my mediocre abilities still don''t have a tank of gas to power them up. "Everyone else will return soon. So don''t waste time and go now!"


    Siren looked at me worriedly, but I made my choice.


    Short term risk to life now is better than far worse odds at survival later.


    "Go!"


    Ayah took hold of Sirena''s arm and dragged her away.


    I didn''t waste any time, threw away my honor, and looked for the nearest trash receptacle and sewer system.


    When to going gets too tough, the people with the least amount of pride gets away the fastest!


    I''d like to say that my plan went off without a hitch, and that I managed to find my way to emulate a certain green fuzzball living in a trash can, but almost immediately after Ayah and Sirena left¡­ I felt a gaze on my back.


    And, I promptly drew the sword that I had at my waist and cast a ball of light into the air.


    Not to give me vision, but to send a signal that I needed help, and to blind my opponent.


    I was sure that Ilych was already on her way the moment I cast the spell, but I knew that I could easily cross the threshold between life and death in the minute or so it would take for her to arrive.


    One minute to survive against someone blinded.


    Well, as they say, hesitation is defeat.


    I got a good look at my opponent, while they were recovering. Covered in full black leather armor and with a mask, his outline was frayed at the edges and bleeding into the surroundings like a chameleon. The armor seemed tight across the body, with the plates of leather being thin, so I was sure that my sword was good enough cut through it¡­ but he recovered while I was decreasing the distance between us and backed away.


    Okay.


    Might be in business, since he thinks that I''m actually good at fighting.


    I only had a bit of power to my name, but I used it to cast a bit of water at his feet to try and make him slip and fall. He almost did as he was trying to gain distance, and I was lucky that it happened as his hands moved and projectiles whizzed past me. I''d have turned into a pin-cushion if I hadn''t kept up the pressure, and counted that as another reason to keep doing it.


    My defenses aren''t that great, so my only option is to be aggressive, and so I was.


    I made the same move that I used to cast my little ball of water again, but as my opponent leapt off the ground with a small jump to avoid it, I cast the ball of light again. This time it was right in front of me, at the tip of my finger, while he was staring at me and looking for an opening.


    I''d like to say that the flash stunned him and I took him out, but his brief blindness only had another set of thrown projectiles going astray as I took a sidestep before he threw them at my last position. He fell onto the ground and recovered, continuing to back away with furious and rapid backwards steps, and even while blinking away the flash from his eyes. Unfortunately, I was already tapped out with those three party tricks, since I''d carried a party up a massive wall and lowered them after.


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    He was about five steps away, and I was still too far to use my sword, so I made do with what I had.


    Taking a fistful of my cloak, I ripped it off and threw towards him like a wide-open blanket and it obscured his vision.


    That''s the last thing I can throw at you, so please work!


    I ducked low as a spread of knives went wide through the cape and to my sides, and I held my sword steady with both hands with tip pointed forward.


    And, with another two steps, my arms and sword surged forward at my opponent''s mid-section.


    Instantly, I found that I was wrong, as the armor fizzled and a spark came alive in contact with my sword and threw the blade back as steel was scorched. I felt a current travel up my arms after making contact, making me grit my teeth and force myself to stay standing and holding my weapon.


    I''d like to say that I grit my teeth through the pain and attacked again, but it was already too late.


    A kick hit me straight in the side and sent me flying into a wall.


    It was a miracle, and a testament to good training, that I didn''t let go of my sword and didn''t impale myself on it when I landed.


    I expected to die, only for my opponent to prove to be an idiot.


    "Any last words, King of Wisdom?"


    The bastard wanted to monologue, even though I could barely stand up, and he had me at his mercy.


    Through gritted teeth, as a sharp pain surged through my side and standing seemed to elicit stabbing sensations all through my torso, I managed to speak.


    "Y-yeah. Look up."


    "I will escape before the Citadel falls."


    "N-no. Not the Citadel."


    I was sure that the question was on his lips would be about what I was talking about, but it didn''t matter.


    Ilych came crashing down like a meteor from above, and her gauntleted fist collided with the man''s covered head... and sent his skull straight through his spine and out between his legs.


    With that threat gone, and Ilych present, I allowed the darkness building at the corners of my vision to fade away.


    Note to self: never have to choose between saving a city and staying safe again.


    This was all sorts of fucking stupid.


    ?


    Interlude: Celia


    ?


    Ilych returned with Jack carried over her shoulder, his coat gone and shirt undone, with bandages wrapped all around his torso.


    The stoic half-giant explained as Rita took him and began to tend to him.


    "Ayah and Sirena were not present. They were sent away. The explosions stopped as I approached here." The pitched battle we had without Ilych present, in order to take the Citadel''s base and seize the structure, was but a passing memory even as my limbs ached and my spectral allies threatened to fade away. The fact that Keeper Justina was dead and Conquest had control over the Citadel and the armies of Guardians barely mattered, as I looked upon the King of Wisdom as a casualty of battle. "He sent them away to save the city and the Citadel, then came under attack immediately."


    My hands wove into fists at those words and a crushing sense of inferiority threatened to overwhelm me.


    I had seen those same explosions, but the orders I gave were to take the Citadel and use it as shelter to save myself and those under my command.


    He gave up his safety, and risked his life, in order to save the whole city.


    I¡­ had much to learn.


    Ayah and the Sirena''s arrived moments after Jack was laid down. The Saintess and the other Champion both sported light damage from their battle, presumably the defenses were strong where they went. Ayah went to his side immediately and so did the Saintess. Spells of healing were on her lips already, and what wounds remained on the King of Wisdom soon faded into nothingness.


    In the end, he would not even be scarred by the battle and none of those he sent forth perished.


    He accomplished everything perfectly, as he always did.


    Once more, I had to take a deep and steadying breath before I fell into a fugue of despair and inadequacy. Here I am, wondering what I could''ve done better, when I could choose to learn and become better for the battles to come. Yes, without a doubt, this was another lesson that I could learn and improve from.


    "Ayah, report." Ilych''s voice rang out, and she removed her snarling helm from her head. Her gaze was narrowed and sharp. Though her features seemed placid, I was taken aback at the storm that lay beneath the tranquil surface. "Why did you leave his side?"


    "Our King discerned that the Citadel would not be destroyed by the explosions, but it would be damaged enough to inflict terrible consequences upon the region. Our army and the city would have all been destroyed."


    "And, our nation would''ve been destroyed if he fell." Rita spoke up from beside Jack. His breathing was calm and now he was at true rest. "You should''ve brought him here! We were securing the Citadel!"


    His companions argued with one another, in the presence of foreign Champions, yet I could find no weakness in the chains that bound them to him. This was no showcase of insubordination, but a clash of opinions¡­ all steeped in absolute loyalty to him. I needed to find my own people who would do the same for me. People who would argue with me, who would contest my orders, and hold my safety over that of hundreds of thousands of others for the sake of our nation.


    "It was his direct order. My initial suggestion was to flee and seek shelter in the Citadel. He refused to take the city whole." Ayah spoke, and I could tell that both Rita and Ilych looked at her for any falsehood. They found none upon the Champions face and relented. When they did, Ayah approached Jack and knelt by his side. Her hand was enrobed in a strange light and power, and she ran her hand over him. A sigh left her lips. "He will be fine. The broken ribs are healed, there were no punctures to his lungs, and there are no poisons or disease upon his form. In the future, a permanent guard he cannot send away will be necessary."


    Ilych and Rita nodded at that suggestion, while I found my gaze drawn to Conquest and Sirena.


    Both were listening and seeing to the same thing as me, and I could clearly see that they were both as daunted by the loyalty, the trust, and the belief these three had for one another through their king.


    Could any of us do anything against the King of Wisdom save for bowing our heads and submitting to him, if his people had such strength, yet remained so loyal to him?


    </article>

 V4: Chapter 12:

    V4: Chapter 12:


    ¡­


    I woke up and felt like complete shit.


    "Water, here."


    "Thank you." Healing magic was described in the lore of the game as something that wasn''t completely understood, but a combination of enhanced regeneration and creation of tissue. You can become immortal without enough healing magic pumped into you, but losing ''scar'' tissue in your brain makes you lose memories and have to relearn things. The Dark Elves had the tech tree to really amp it up, bring back the dead, and when they perfect it there''s no memory or skill lost in the process. Honestly, it all sounded like bullshit made up to give some sci-fi logic to fantasy bullshit. I didn''t think about it much. "What''s happened? How long have I been unconscious?"


    "Two hours and the city has been pacified, unfortunately we have discovered a massive underground system of tunnels. Many of the Scholars upper echelons have vanished with much of their treasury and repositories."


    "Not our fault. They were probably sneaking away and planned to make this place into a deathtrap. All the people here and the industrial capacity were bait." I shook off the pain and fatigue with little success, and just grit my teeth to get up. Ayah helped me on my unsteady legs. Yeah, I''m not built for fighting. What doesn''t kill you just makes you stronger? Not for me. What doesn''t kill me just might cripple me for life. "I want this city swept clean. All tunnels found collapsed. Make sure to look for anything that can scorch this place and make it unusable. We need it."


    Ayah nodded at my commands, and led me to a table.


    No.


    Not just a table.


    The main office of the Citadel, which mimicked mine completely, because most of mine back home was just made of the Citadel''s materials like this one.


    We did take the city with a surgical strike, and in doing so stopped the Goblin''s plans to turn this place into a deathtrap by sheer happenstance.


    I just wanted to save my troops from a siege with poisoned weapons in play, but I managed to stop the Scholars from killing my army off, and preventing the city from being wrecked.


    Not bad for suicide mission.


    "Any news on their standing army and their mercenaries?"


    "The latter have scattered to the winds. None were interested once they learned they weren''t to receive their next wages. As for the military arm of the Scholars, we believe they were doing transportation of all the treasure and artifacts of the Scholars."


    "That''s not good. They''re going to put that to use against us." They were going to go to ground and turn themselves into some sort of techno-fetishist terrorist group. There are few things worse than a terrorist group with the tech advantage¡­ and a propensity towards bioweapons. Augh, if any of the endgame poison weapons get turned into a WMD, this world is going to get absolutely murdered. I''m going to need to research the Wonder that invalidates Poison as a damage method, aren''t I? "But one problem at a time. Is this Citadel linked?"


    "Not yet. Khanrow has yet to arrive and the ring¡­ is on you." Ayah pointed at the ring on my finger, placed their presumably after it had used it to manipulate my environment into my office.


    For a second, I considered taking the Citadel, then the reality of the situation hit me. Even if the army stayed with me, and if everyone here followed me, it was still slow suicide on the lap of luxury. I could try and kill Riegert, but his clandestine operations would go up in smoke and I needed him more than ever with all the Goblins slipping through.


    No.


    Getting a chair and some rope would be an easier way to commit suicide.


    I took the ring off.


    "Get it to him as soon as he gets here. How''s the city?" I walked over to the balcony behind my replica office''s desk. There were a few pillars of smoke rising over the city, but there were no more riots. Still, there was only so much that I could manage with just my eyes. "How many people died because of the riots we caused?"


    "Several thousand injuries, many severe and expected to perish, and five hundred or so dead." I wanted the numbers to hit me like brick. No one should just nod at those numbers. However, all I could think was that those lives were wasted because they could''ve contributed towards what little chance of victory that we had. Those were people that could pay taxes, build weapons, farm, and more. Though I wanted to believe every life''s sacred, my brain was fixated on the lives lost that weren''t going to keep contributing. Well, at the very least, I knew that I needed to find some mental health after all this. "The city is largely without harm and has been taken. Our army is bringing order, too. Soon, it will be time for you to integrate this Citadel and its population to our current polity."


    I nodded a lot with every word.


    Focus on the good.


    Army is whole and healthy and avoided a siege against poison weapons.


    Damage is minimal to the production facilities and the Citadel itself.


    This place can be turned into a better city, the Citadel as a trio can heal even the worst of injuries now, food issues were going to be easier to solve, and¡­ and guns.


    Oh.


    I have actual guns now.


    Oh thank fucking god.


    We''re finally going to get actual firepower on the field before the first crisis hits!


    Goodbye spearmen, swordsmen, and mages!


    Hello shock troopers, riflemen, and artillery!


    Lets.


    Fucking.


    GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.


    ?


    Interlude: Riegert


    ?


    The city was in a lot better shape than anyone anticipated, especially after the riots and fighting that took place overnight.


    "Guardians scoured the place light night, boys, but keep your eyes mobile. They''re not here right now, and we''re not exactly heroes to these people." Oswald spoke just behind me. The soldiers remained armed and armored as we marched towards the Citadel on the main road of the city. The houses surrounding us were as Khanrow reported. Less buildings to live in and more fortifications meant for soldiers to fight and die in. "Don''t let your guard down until we reach the inner wall and the Guardians under the King''s command."


    There was a low rumble of assent amongst through the body of troops, mutterings beneath steel helms, as we made our way. The sound of boots rhythmically hitting dirt resounded, while the gazes of many of the Scholar''s citizens peered through slits of their buildings. They didn''t even have windows, just slots to fire arrows from.


    "Can''t say I would''ve fancied fighting here." Gunther grunted. His voice was tinny and echoed through his helm. He''d fought in villages before and trained most of the men. He set himself as an example by wearing all the armor he had his troops wear. I followed his visored gaze. Winding alleys where numbers meant nothing. Flat roofs where archers and others could easily hide. Strong doors in frames that would require most grown men to enter sideways through. "The King chose well."


    I couldn''t help but nod.


    Some people had been concerned about the riots taking place and the innocent lives riled up to provide the opportunity to attack the Scholars directly, but I was sure their concerns were dashed after seeing for themselves what carnage they avoided. This city was a beast prepared to consume armies whole, and that was without the plans of the Scholars to use poison and even bring low the Citadel to destroy the region. The four armies that came together to take this Citadel was a monstrous thing, but this would''ve been an opponent it would''ve been crippled trying to take.


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    The Scholars were going to be a foe to be reckoned with for years to come.


    "We need a volunteer force to hunt down as many of the Scholars as possible. Their officers and treasures and artifacts need to be recovered." Gunter and Oswald both nodded as we walked. This battle was won, but the war was not yet over. "If the Scholars are willing to go this far, to these extremes, they will wreak havoc upon the entire continent. The head of this snake needs to be cut and the rest of it strangled."


    "Aye, I don''t want these folks coming up with anything after all this. They''ll put what we did to shame. We used fire and steel, but they''ll use poison and disease." Oswald muttered and sighed lightly as we passed the inner walls. Guardians under Khanrow''s control, or Jack''s, were searching buildings and clearing debris. Beneath the Citadel''s shadow, I felt more at ease. Up ahead, at the base of the Citadel, there were familiar boxes of foodstuffs made within the Citadel along with larger containers filled with other necessities. After so many days of speedy marching, harangued by mercenaries and professional troops, we were going to be able to rest easy. "I''m sure that the flying carriages will be a load of help, especially with Champions at their back. How do you feel about going on the hunt again, Captain?"


    "Maybe after a few days of rest." The underground trails were already collapsed, according to Khanrow, and the trail was cold. However, Lady Celia had many bodies of Scholars to use for her Necromancy, and she was already extracting what she could from the resistant echoes. Even Sirena, the Saintess, was considering reviving a few of those killed in order to glean information from them. I knew not which was a worse fate. To be placed under duress as a spirit, or be returned to life only to be interrogated. Both seemed terrible fates, but if it stopped even one city from being plagued by the diseases the Scholars attempted to infest our army with, then it would just be a cost we''ll have to pay. "Alright, looks like we''re resting easy tonight, boys!"


    Oswald and Gunther took that as the signal to get the soldiers rested, while I went ahead into the Citadel itself.


    I found myself stopping as soon as I passed through the doors.


    Khanrow was there, as I expected, but only Ilych, Ayah, and Jack were present besides.


    This was a more serious meeting than I thought, and I realized why as I looked upon the weapons arrayed on a rack.


    It''s happened.


    The systems of the Citadel finally acknowledged our authority and provided us with the right to produce powerful weapons.


    "Riegert, they''re more powerful than we thought. The weapons of the Undead cannot compare." Khanrow spoke bluntly. I took note of his features after a moment looking at him. He looked¡­ younger. He tossed something at me, and I caught it. It was some sort of vial, but slim and cylindrical and with a needle at the end. "It''s the fabled potion of youth and longevity of the Ancients. We have them now. We can produce it as easily as water¡­ along with far more potent and terrifying concoctions."


    Jack came forward with a list, which promised to be meticulous, but summarized its contents.


    "With Ayah''s aid, I''ve begun finding all that we can now make. As Riegert said, there are many Ancient technologies at our disposal now, but the most important are those potions, these weapons, and industrial parts." Jack spoke without his usual charisma, knowing that everyone present knew the truth. The intellect and wisdom he usually hid behind a smile and flattering words used to intimidate. Now, the cold and calculating intellect behind his hazel eyes threatened to overwhelm. The Ancient Administrator sometimes seemed more human than him without his mask. "The industrial portion includes the creation of the parts necessary to make the machines the Citadel uses to create. We must build them in our own Citadel quickly."


    That should''ve been enough of an advantage that even Jack would smile, but there was no sign of him relenting in the slightest.


    "Sounds like we''ve got our ace-in-the-hole, even for the enemies of the Ancients. What''s the problem?" I asked candidly, while Ilych approached me and took the vial from my hands. She applied it to me without so much as a word, and after a sting¡­ aches and pains that I''d grown used to began to slowly fade. Even blurriness in the corners of my vision that I hadn''t noticed began to fade. My heart began to pump more strongly, and it was like was slowly being reborn from within. My thoughts sharpened, and a faint fugue faded from my notice. "¡­Did the Ancients leave something behind?"


    "Aye, they did. We know what''s coming now. Citadel, show him." Khanrow spoke and the Citadel answered. Lights projected from the ground and formed the continent with the Citadels rising from the ground like pure white thorns from their regions. Then, the map grew larger and larger until I realized the whole planet was shown as a globe. Innumerable glyphs emerged all over the planet, layers of color in vibrant reds, and I was able to read much of it thanks to my knowledge. My heart sank. "We are surrounded. The foes of the Ancients have the rest of the planet."


    We were a singular island of blue surrounded by a narrowing grew band simply called ''Perimeter Defense'' being approached from all sides by foes.


    Foes that held vast amounts of land formerly owned by the Ancients.


    A singular question arose in my mind which would decide everything.


    "Do they have Citadels of their own?"


    "No." Ayah answered with a shake of her head and a faint vestige of hope filled my heart. "And, all is not lost. The Ancients ripped from the rest of the planet their blessings and cursed their foes." The Golem moved and the lights changed. Various runes of the Ancients that I could barely read came upon the screen. Curses. Mental degradation. Susceptibility to sunlight. Decreased fertility. Weakness after weakness. "They head for us in hopes of taking the Citadels to unmake those curses. However, this is no bargaining chip. If they are unshackled, they will kill us without a shred of hesitation."


    I discerned as much, and turned towards Jack.


    He met my gaze¡­ and I found not a hint of fear on his face.


    Only the determination to survive.


    For a second, I saw the face of the scavenger boy in the Quartermaster''s tent.


    Someone who survived a childhood of pain and suffering all on his own.


    That little kindling of hope in my chest turned into a bonfire and I stood straighter as I looked upon Jack.


    "So, what''s the plan?"


    He answered simply.


    "Take all the Citadels by any means necessary, then turn the weapons on the monsters and kill them all."


    Simple and concise, yet solid and concrete.


    I almost laughed.


    In the face of an entire planet filled with monsters, I suppose that the best plan was indeed: "kill them all."

 V4: Chapter 13:

    V4: Chapter 13:


    Why can''t we just print out guns like crazy and win?


    The answer is that the guns manufactured by the Citadels are fucking gigantic.


    According to the forums'' resident gun nuts, the guns in the game were ridiculous, because they were meant to be used by far stronger people against monsters that needed the likes of Conquerors to put down.


    Hell, the guns would have to work against Conquerors too.


    I''m not a gun nut, so I didn''t know the exact details, calibers, or whatever, but I did know that an ordinary human firing the regular pistol produced by a Citadel would break both their wrists and find the gun flying into their face. The semi-automatic rifle would blow your shoulder apart and your eardrums would burst. Finally, their version of a hunting rifle was closer to an actual cannon you''d see mounted on a tank.


    Not an armored vehicle.


    A goddamn tank.


    The Ancients were on some serious genetic therapy and light power armor most of the time, so any one of them could use these weapons.


    Their military-grade small arms would be considered naval artillery.


    So, using them directly was out of the question.


    The guns and the ammo produced by the Citadels were research material, and a good way to get amazing, refined propellants for cannons and cartridges¡­ until the late-game.


    But, for now the research and powder were more than enough. I was looking forward to getting troops smaller versions that fire more ''normal'' rounds. The loss in stopping power, compared to the fuck-off giant weapons used by the Ancients, was fine. The whole point of the weapons was so that I could leverage more of my population and train them more quickly, as well as improve the defenses of my territory substantially.


    In short, the massive, fuckoff huge guns with perfected ammunition are for later, for the real big bad enemies.


    For now, we were going to develop guns solely to take the rest of the Citadels, and stave off the initial waves of the oncoming crises.


    Now, I just had to hide the former fact from my current allies.


    ?


    It took almost two entire months for the army to get the city around the Citadel into working order, but once everything was ''normal,'' the outputs of the Citadel were as expected.


    Massive.


    "This is difficult to believe. I wouldn''t believe it if I hadn''t seen it with my own eyes." Celia just decided to show up in my office with Conquest and Sirena in tow in the first days of the occupation. Since we were lacking in administrative staff, I asked them politely if they wanted to help. They accepted, and since that day I''d been trying to hammer into their skulls that I needed this third Citadel for more than a year. Thankfully, Conquest stated that the city wasn''t considered handed over until she and her people left it, and only started planning to leave once the situation was stable and the region was clear of enemies. "With this output, the famine will be a non-issue. Many will go hungry, but not starve."


    "I believed in my studies and understanding of the Citadels, but this exceeded my expectations, too." I did my best to play at being humble. I was sure it wasn''t working. I was sitting behind a massive table laden with documents of import that required my signet and I technically controlled three of the most massive and powerful structures this world had. Even if I decided to kiss ass with every breath I had, there was not hope in coming off as humble. This situation was untenable and there was no way the other factions weren''t going to take it from me after I decide to not honor the year-long lease. "With this, we can all rest easy that all shall be fed¡­ however there is the concern regarding the growths my Citadels have had."


    Citadels levelled up. In-game, its bonuses and flat additions to your Citadel increased, but its looks also changed. The more Citadels you had in your network, the larger they grew, as they shared power, information, and collaborated with one another. This Citadel wasn''t networked, yet it threatened to annihilate the region by just shaking off a few pieces. Over the last couple of months, the Citadel grew some more along with the others under Khanrow''s control, until one collapsing would be a problem for the neighboring regions, too.


    These things were the ''roots'' of a massive fucking Ancient superweapon that stretched into space when they were altogether, so of course they were just going to get more and more ridiculous the more you had on your side.


    But I''m getting ahead of myself.


    That stuff''s seven to ten years away at the earliest.


    "It''s entirely likely that even after I hand this off to the Conquerors, that I will have under my control two of these Citadels. The Conquerors shall have one, and perhaps their own will replicate it, but the rest of the continent shall be left with single Citadels at their first stage." Every representative of another faction has been going over the numbers for the past couple of days with me. I made them see just how much this Citadel was producing. Where we could previously produce a few hundred pounds of food and materials to support the cities outside of the Citadels, we were now pumping out metric tons. These supply centers were part of a network that supported the whole planet, a large chunk of the solar system, and almost a trillion people all over that territory. "If at all possible, I would like to work with each of you in turn to embolden you Citadels. The process takes just a handful of weeks, then the balance of power can be somewhat maintained."


    "With yourselves and the Conquerors with two Citadels, each forged from the union of six, while two of us have one each?" Celia snorted and almost smiled, while I raised my hands at her observation. Drat, I was hoping that she''d fall for it at least. Her saying that had Conquest and Sirena shake their heads as well. Guess that was too much of a reach. "However, I would not be adverse to working with the Conquerors and the Wardens to elevate ours Citadels to greater heights."


    And, now they were cutting me out of my idea.


    I really need to learn to shut up sometimes.


    Still, though, it would be better for them to have upgraded Citadels than not.


    "With the coming terrors, I advise that the three of you speak amongst yourselves and do as you plan." Strengthening the people that I''ll have to defeat and steal from later? Yeah, you could see it like that. However, unless all three of them worked perfectly together after elevating their Citadels to 3 out of 8, they''ll still have only one each, while I''ll have 3 at the same level. Reminder: no way in hell I''m giving this one back to the Conquerors. Anyway, they''ll be able to fight the first wave of the incoming crises better with higher levels of Citadels, and they won''t be able to unify and take me down. I''ll kill at least one of them in the opening exchange first, so it''ll be two 3/8ths vs four Citadels at 4 out of 8. For them to win at those are odds, they''ll need to use save scumming and have meticulous battlefield micro and perfect build templates, all of which didn''t exist. "Don''t worry, I''ll speak to my advisors and calm them if you do such a thing."


    Celia frowned at my words, just as Conquest voiced her opinion on the matter.


    "I know not whether you trust in us, or if you see us beneath your notice, King of Wisdom." Over the last few weeks, I''d managed to piece some things about Conquest. The most prime piece of information was that her abs were like warm marble¡ªI mean, that she''s smarter than she lets on. And, the second most important fact about her, was that she wasn''t below being sneaky and cunning when she had to be. Like a combination between a devilish rogue and an honorable warrior, but both were willing to do what needed to be done to win. "But know this: the Conquerors are not to be underestimated. You and your people will submit to our rule one day, and the whole of the continent shall be united under one banner."


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    Sirena was quiet and didn''t respond. The Warden''s Saintess was a lot more quiet nowadays, and I had a feeling things were going to change with the Guardians once she returned to them.


    This is after I showed them the whole planet is going to come after us by the way.


    It just goes to show that after centuries of constant warfare, bigotry, tragedy, and all sorts of fucked up shit, everyone left was allergic to forming alliances and joining together. Those who were willing to ally and to work with others were weeded out in the first couple of centuries. Hell, they were probably the first victims of full-scale cultural genocide and all sorts of other nasty stuff, since no one could remember them. Ultimately, it was going to take a lot of time and effort to bridge the gap between everyone¡­ neither of which I had at my disposal.


    Unfortunately, it looked like my only option was to conquer my former allies once we all went our separate ways.


    Hm.


    That''ll be pretty hard, so why don''t I go after the others first?


    The Goblins had to go seek asylum somewhere, and hunting them down and beating whoever sheltered them was good enough reason to go to war.


    Yeah.


    And, if they didn''t, well I could make it seem like they did.


    What?


    I''m American.


    False flagging enemy nations and setting up casus belli is part of my culture.


    Nothing better to stimulate a war economy than smaller wars!


    And, if you never stop having wars, you can stay on the war economy forever!


    Win-win, except for those who lose!


    ?


    Interlude: Crusher.


    ?


    News of the King of Wisdom''s victory travelled across the land like a wildfire through desert plains. The papers transported by his messengers travelled all over the continent and spread his tale, while the voices of those who spoke against him faded into obscurity outside of city walls. Our city, the Holdfast, was in high spirits knowing our soldiers and my daughter ventured with the King of Wisdom to bring low the Scholars and that their trickery and plans were undone.


    However, my own daughter''s writings pervaded the thoughts of me and my fellow officers.


    Through cunning and ruthlessness, the King of Wisdom turned the Citadel of the Scholars against them. Like a master of the minds and hearts of people, he roused the population of the city into feverish protests that turned into riots, and conquered the greed and selfishness of criminals to use to his own ends. As the city was paralyzed, as the Scholars were forced to deploy their strongest warriors, they were undone by a mere handful of Champions at the right time and at the right place.


    Many of our strategists had believed the King of Wisdom''s forces and all those sent would be spent against the Scholars and their Citadel.


    Yet, now, we knew that those armies were whole, hale, and the King of Wisdom has been one of the few injured in the campaign.


    The only blood spilled was that of the Scholars and their ilk.


    I reached the same training ground where I typically met with the Deliverer, and found myself buffeted by what felt like a storm gale.


    But it was not.


    It was the swings made by the weapon that the Deliverer swung.


    As a gift, the Deliverer was rejuvenated via the alchemies of the Ancients, and now he loomed over us all as a Conqueror in his prime. I barely reached his navel in height now, and his gnarled skin was replaced by bright green hues. Not a wrinkle remained on his face, and his gaze was sharp and a deep gold. All his intellect, skill, and wisdom remained, but now in a body that could last for centuries and centuries more.


    The King of Wisdom sent fear into our hearts, yet with another move he rekindled hope long thought lost.


    Truly, I understood how he was able to turn the Scholar''s own city against them.


    "What news, Crusher?" The Deliverer addressed me, his voice like rumbling thunder, and he placed his axe on his shoulder and let his massive tower shield lower onto the floor. Unlike many Conquerors, he wore armor. Heavy armor, which necessitated her train with it often. Clad in all of it for training, he was a titan of white armor forged from the Citadel''s foundries, and he weighed himself down with satchel after satchel of sand. He intended to fight from the beginning and end of any battle, a titan with towering shield in one hand and pure destruction in the other. "Has your daughter returned?"


    "She draws close. A rider came from our border."


    "Set a feast of victory for her return. Even with the coming famine, her victory should be celebrated." The Deliverer spoke and a pair of servants walked to him bearing a great barrel filled with water. He took it in one hand and drank from it deeply, until it was finished. He nodded in thanks to them, as they took it away. "Speak of your concern. They will only be addressed, if we speak."


    He saw through me with ease and speed he never had before, yet his renewed strength, skill, and clarity did little to quell the concern with my heart.


    "Deliverer, are our plans unchanged? Will we face the King of Wisdom and his forces? Challenge them for the right to rule through combat?" Such was the will of the Deliverer. Once we accepted the challenge of the Guardians, as we believed their goal similar to ours. To lose to them and fight with them, would be little different from our own ends. However, the King of Wisdom and his people were not the Guardians. Many of them enslaved our people. They wronged us, as many did before. Treating us as little more than meat for the grinder of war and beasts of burden. "I advise against it. We need more strength, if we hope to win, and even then he will array against us more than we can imagine."


    The Deliverer pondered my question, as the sun set in the distance, and he placed a hand on the top of his shield before answering.


    Those who kept him the longest were the people of the King of Wisdom, and he waged war against them for hundreds of years.


    "What will you do, if I say yes, Crusher?"


    He addressed me, and I spoke without hesitation.


    "You remain my king and my lord and no other deserves my loyalty. Your word is that which I follow."


    "My thanks, old friend." The Deliverer nodded, before speaking again. "My plan has changed. My intention is different now. It shall not be a battle of armies, but that of kings. His Champion against me, with our lives on the line, and our kingdoms"


    "The Kingslaying Rite." The words of the trial the Deliverer spoke left my lips unbidden, as both pride and fear filled my heart for the man I chose to follow. In a year''s time, he will either rule over the largest kingdom of the Continent or perish with his legacy at his opponent''s mercy. "Are you sure, Deliverer?"


    This time, the Deliverer did not pause as he spoke.


    "I am. This is the only path we can now follow, as the world entire is filled with our ancient foes." The Deliverer brought up his shield and lowered his axe. He looked in the distance, mighty and strong, yet willing to lay his life for the future nonetheless. "Either I shall be victorious and rule over the strongest nation, or my death will make it so the path to creating that nation shall benefit our people more."


    His life is truly for all of us and not his own.


    "Now, old friend, what say you aid me in winning the duel that lies ahead?"


    My answer was instant.


    I went to my friend, my mentor, and my king with every intention of fighting him until I could no longer.


    It was all that I could do now for the man who wished to give us everything, regardless whether he lived or died.

 V4: Chapter 14

    V4: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    The region of Talon Hills was no longer recognizable.


    Gone were the rolling green hills, swathes of forests, and uncleared land.


    Instead, as we returned home, we were greeted by stone, wood, and steel.


    All fifteen sites of the region were now occupied by Encampments and Towns, with the two other spots where Citadels could be spawned used as additional sites raising the number to seventeen. Each one was connected with cobblestone roads, which were policed from the air by patrolling flying knights. The sky was filled with a constant stream of flying-horse-drawn containers, using the roads below to navigate. During the day, the gray roads and their dirt clearings made navigation easy, while at night they navigated via small lighthouses which led towards to Citadel.


    People and materials flowed through the air and across the ground in every direction where wildlife and monsters once roamed.


    The outer sites were encampments, designed to train troops and host buildings that lowered their cost and contribute to technology trees. The encampments overlooking roads and choke points were being upgraded to fortresses. Our armies could sally forth from them with ease, and they were well-stocked for long sieges. If I could get away with it, I''d dig into the hills and use them as bunkers and strongpoints, but I knew for a fact that the enemies coming our way were very mobile and very unlikely to starve.


    They ate people, and even their own when pushed, so they ''foraged'' just fine.


    Anyway, the towns were around the Citadel in the ''inner'' region and were lesser in number, but they were being built up quickly into cities. Six manufacturing/civilian sections to eleven military locations meant that I was running a very thin bottom line that was closer to the red than black. If not for all the schemes I thought up to make money, from products sold by the state, to even plays cribbed off fiction from back home, and actual government bonds and taxes, we''d be deep into the red, even with a whole other region and Citadel dedicated to making money.


    But we weren''t in the red, most of our debt was owned by our own people, and our military industrial complex was larger than the next three largest nations combined.


    Any fellow player would call me a turtling, min-maxing, and no-fun bastard the moment they saw what I was doing¡­ and I''ll take that compliment with a smile.


    Prove me wrong by winning against me, nerd.


    With a third Citadel, and our current Citadels upgrading, we were set to gain some more funds to spend, even with a renewed drive to produce food and ship it out all over the continent.


    I know what you''re thinking.


    I should speedrun a Wonder before anyone else gets one.


    Or, maybe, you think I should make a fully-stacked army.


    Those are both good and solid ideas, but if I picked one of those two options, I''d be constraining myself to game logic.


    No.


    The game was a good road map and a good idea of what was to come, but it didn''t answer everything about what was going to happen. The truth was that I needed to make decisions that couldn''t be made in the game, just like the Goblins did, and learn from my opponents in order to win. Thinking how I used to was too dangerous, so I needed to augment my game-knowledge with lateral thinking, cunning, and ideas that could happen in reality but not in the game.


    So, with the extra leeway given by our ''temporary'' Citadel, I was going to try to launch an Expedition before they officially unlocked in the mid-game.


    Expeditions are excursions into the rest of the world by an Army led by a Champion. The Ancient Ruins were the tutorial for them. You got them by mid-game, once the first real Crisis hits, and when most of the Ancient Ruins have been found. The Expeditions were longer, had more requirements, and needed long term support, which basically meant you sent out an army, funded and supplied them, and couldn''t use that army and its Champion until the expedition completed.


    The shortest Expedition was four turns, or an entire year, and the most worthwhile ones could last twenty.


    Five years¡­ but the rewards were worth it.


    Ayah had mentioned that the Ancients left nothing behind for their enemies out there, but that wasn''t entirely true.


    The places and facilities that they left behind are simply so well-defended that the people out there don''t have the ability to get in.


    That''s what the Expeditions are about.


    Finding and locating intact Ancient structures before they were wiped out by the weapons they unleashed on their enemies. And, wouldn''t you know it, the first successful Expedition mounted amongst all the factions is guaranteed to find an Ancient Wonder and bring it back to your home region.


    Yeah.


    That''s why I''ve got a ring of fortresses being made around my Citadel.


    Whichever one that I find, it''s going to stay mine no matter what.


    Yeah, yeah. I know what I said about not believing in gameplay over reality, but honestly anything they bring back would be great!


    ?


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ?


    Relief filled my bones as I finished reading the letter from Cynthia.


    Gilbert nodded at me, upon noticing.


    We were both in a safehouse, resting after the long travel back the Talon Hills, after the Scholar''s Citadel was secured and Riegert was installed as its interim ruler.


    "Fair news, teacher?"


    "Aye, all the preparations are complete. They''ll be here at the Citadel in a fortnight. A month and all shall be brought with them. Your family will be here within a fortnight as well." The revelation that Ancient foes would come at see gave me pause, but the knowledge that there was a whole world filled with enemies beyond that vast sea had me move to bring my family and supporters to safety. With the aid of Jack''s transports, the matter was simplified and made easy. "They will be safe and secure before the year is done."


    The journey to return to Talon Hills had been quick. The armies had split and were sent back to their homes, save for a contingent held to tame the region of the Scholars. The mountainous land filled with evergreen forests was filled with brigands and small villages living in small valleys with mountains. Some hadn''t even known that the Scholars had ruled over their region, while others hid collaborators and struck in the shadows. Riegert and his men, with all their experience in the region and with no need to hide, were the best candidates to tame the Claw Peaks.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Some called the land the Scholars'' Downfall, now, though that name wouldn''t stick for long as the new maps used the old name.


    But back to more important matters, now that my family was safe and the security of the third Citadel was ensured.


    "Gilbert, I have need of you to stay here."


    "And, I have need of you to stay alive. Going forth on this damned expedition will be the death of you. You know what lies beyond!" Gilbert shook his head and huddled over the table between us. His eyes were resolute. The last battle was something that he had needed, and I was glad to have taken him. He knew what had to be done, what was necessary for war, and what we opposed. "The Scholars are still out there! Who knows what they will do, if you''re gone "?


    "You will. I have all my people ready to report to you, Gilbert, and you need the experience. Meanwhile, those going forth into the darkness need all that I have learned and gained. Out there, the lands are still filled with warlords and brigands and unknowns." Jack had volunteered to go forth, and with all his talent and ability, it had been a tempting offer. However, he was needed here. It was a simple matter of reward and risk. Sending him out there would cost too much when he did so much here, and the risk of losing him out there was beyond question. After my body was rejuvenated, after all the strength that I lost returned, I knew what I had to do. All the decades I spent as a warlord meant something. It can do better now. "Out there, all is not known. That is where I excel because of all my years and knowledge. You have all my knowledge, but not my years. That¡­ you will gain here."


    Gilbert''s features contorted and he almost lost control, but he breathed as I told him to, calmed himself, and counted in the depths of his mind. The fog of emotion that had fallen onto his features faded away and the taciturn mask he crafted returned.


    He''s a good lad.


    "I understand¡­ but before you leave there''s much to do after we rest. We can''t risk the King of Wisdom like we did then. He almost died securing that Citadel." I nodded at Gilbert''s words. The tale of taking the Scholar''s Citadel was embellished. None were told of the violence inflicted upon the people of the Citadel by Guardians for their rioting. None spoke of the thousands of dead criminals we purged after the city was taken. Finally, none knew how close to death Jack came, as he had to send his guards away to save the whole region. A lack of power at his side nearly cost us too much. "We have a season before everything is gathered and it is launched. Do you have anyone in mind to act as his bodyguard?"


    I pondered the question, but Gilbert spoke with his mask nearly breaking into a smile.


    "Teacher, this isn''t the time to play matchmaker for your grandchild."


    "You''ll understand when you have a daughter and raise her that those words are foolish." I scoffed, while Gilbert leaned back into his chair. I allowed myself to relax as well, with graver topics left behind. Now, I could appreciate being clean of dirt, grime, and freshly dressed in washed clothes. The fireplace was warm even fed heat into pipes that ran water through the floor. Then, there was the food at the table between us. A whole roasted chicken on a platter of grilled vegetables along with uncorked wine and bottled nectars. My body almost went limp in my chair, as I forced myself to relax from head to toe. The operation was done. It was time to rest, before the next began. "Morgan is not only a mage of high caliber, but a swordsman and a capable adviser. Since her birth, and when my daughter was known to be barren, she was raised to lead¡­ no¡­ to rise up from even the ashes of our house with only her skills and talent at her behest."


    A Champion in all but name, free of the Academy''s clutches, and a land of her own.


    If I had failed, she could have carried on upon whichever path she chose, because she had the strength, intellect, and talent to stand above others.


    As her grandfather, why would not want her installed as the permanent guard and advisor to Jack?


    "Old man, Morgan is brighter than you know and sharper than a razor''s edge. She''ll know what you''re up to."


    "And, when she asks, I''ll tell her the truth: to pursue him shall be her decision. I want her safe and secure. She''ll find no shortage of courtiers with the position, as well." I grunted and tried to ignore the insufferable grin playing on my apprentices'' lips. Only once he had a daughter, will he know how fretful nights could be knowing not if his daughter could find love and affection and security and care and¡­ the rejuvenating elixir has undone my ability to withstand spirits, hasn''t it? I grunted and poured myself a glass of water to take a deep draught. "And, I have no intention of asking Jack to consider her. That young man, as much as he stares in wonder and praises without words, knows his place¡­ and what he must do."


    Gilbert nodded seriously, and I grew sober as I recalled the face of Jack when he looked upon the whole world filled with foes. As I had been filled with fear and dread, as even Ilych recoiled, Rita almost fell to her knees, and Ayah whispered a soft denial beneath her breath¡­ he had looked upon the globe with only understanding and determination.


    His words at that moment echoed within my mind, along with his devotion to learning, training, plans, his latest decision to risk his life, and finally his decision to betray the Conquerors and sully his honor to keep our Third Citadel.


    "There''s a lot of work ahead of us, and many sacrifices to be made, but I''ll always choose the path where we live rather than die." His words echoed in my head, along with the slight smile that played on his face. "I quite like living, don''t you?"


    With those words, Jack quelled their fears and their determination relit¡­ along with mine.


    Jack would do what needed to be done, to survive what was to come, and to that end he would do everything in his power. Though I wished to secure her future and ensure her prosperity with the position, I hoped that Morgan would see that and stay far from Jack. He reminded me of myself, at my youngest, but with far more brilliance, more power, and more to lose.


    He would sacrifice any of us, even Ayah who was beside him every day, if it meant guaranteeing victory.


    I knew this because I was the same.

 V4: Epilogue

    V4: Epilogue


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    Famine proved to be a more formidable foe than my generation anticipated. We had reasoned that we had been hungry before, to the point where our parents kept us in the long-sleep, and that the challenge that lay ahead was one that could be surmounted even without the Descendant''s king coming to our aid.


    We were proven wrong within the first week.


    Despite calls for calm, merchants were without stock within hours of the news arrived that the crops were truly failing. My people prided themselves in their ability to reason and to think, but many had had children since the establishment of the city, and none wanted to force their children or any who they cared for into the long-sleep. In but a single moment, my people proved themselves as fallible as any other mortal race, and when we looked ahead¡­ all those leading found nothing but a path fraught with peril.


    We only calmed when the first deliveries of promised grain arrived, and as the crowds dispersed satisfied after seeing grain silos and warehouses filled to the brim.


    All thanks to a constant stream of the Descendant King''s winged porters.


    We offered him our help for his aid, and found ourselves embroiled in countering the effects of the Famine all across the land.


    Some questioned the missives given to us by the King of the Descendants, Jack, but time and time again his words proved prophetic.


    He foresaw the rise of bandits fighting for the cause of food across the land.


    He foresaw mad scrambles between towns outside the Citadel regions for food.


    He foresaw that not everyone could be saved, and saved those that he could.


    I took heart in the fact, that for every deserted and dead town that we passed with empty packs on our backs, we passed by four or five more that were surviving thanks to our help. And, such was the case all over the continent. Those that accepted his deliveries of grain looked to their nearby regions and stabilized them as Jack bid them to. Though many still died, the chaos and discord that we feared never arose in force, and the armies of every mortal race never raised their blades against the people.


    Such was our victory, thanks to the King of the Descendants.


    However, when I returned home, with my troops after our mission to save as many as possible¡­ nothing was the same.


    No.


    Something was different.


    There was a stench in the air the just spoke of wrongness, and the streets normally filled with life were empty and desolate.


    The welcoming of heroes befitting my troops was nowhere to be found.


    "Breaker, take the vanguard and make a sweep. Triumph, with me. Everyone else¡­ hold the gatehouse." My soldiers and retinue compiled, while my right hand came forward. He towered over me and at his back was a massive war axe. In time, with continued training, I was sure that he''ll be on par with myself and my father as a Champion. His presence calmed me, as I headed for the Great Hall. "Keep close."


    Triumph grunted and followed as I empowered my step and surged towards where the Deliverer was.


    The closer we came¡­ the more signs of battle we encountered.


    No.


    Not battle.


    Violence.


    Bodies of Conquerors were caught in one another''s hands. Their fists were worn down to the bone, and blood bruises covered bodies, while mouths had cheeks ripped and bearing teeth. The viscera of many were splayed across whole streets, draped over fences, and torn apart. I found myself searching for children¡­ and found myself comforted when I found none. However, still, the violence was grotesque, undeniable, and intensified as we drew closer and closer to the Great Hall.


    "War chief, there is a barricade ahead." Triumph''s voice was a low rumble, but I noticed when he spoke that his weapon was drawn¡­ and I had drawn my weapons unconsciously as well. We strode upon ruined bodies of our people, their forms ripped apart¡­ but their own hands? Some of the wounds on them were self inflicted. Skin and muscle torn off to bare bone. "There was a battle¡­ but where are the warriors?"


    I looked at the broken blockade and found that my lieutenant was correct. There were signs of bodies being cut apart by weapons, even some completely immolated by magic, and a few broken pieces of armor, but the bodies of soldiers were nowhere to be found.


    After the barricade, the same violence we saw earlier continued, but with weapons and magic instead of bare hands.


    "Send a message back. There''s some sort of disease at play. One of madness and butchery." My stomach sank as the words left my mouth. Who did this and why it happened ceased to matter, as I considered what terrors mad Conquerors could do, especially when well armed. My father was in this city, as were many of our most prominent, and so was the Deliverer. What happened to them? The longer that I thought of the matter, the more the looming, pure white Citadel seemed like a tombstone for my people. "Tell them to protect themselves with magic and to retreat."


    Triumph complied and sent the message with magic, casting the correct, colored flames into the air, and we made our way forward towards the Great Hall.


    I waited for some sort of response to our signal, but none came.


    Not even a response from another force of Conquerors.


    Not one from our whole capital.


    What has happened here?


    ?


    The Great Hall was in ruin, but we found signs of pitched battle and the bodies of warriors against maddened berserkers. Soldiers of our people died defending the throne. Many of them surrounded by fallen enemies in spades. Many barriers lay broken, and the air was still thick with the scent of magic, while hundreds of weapons remained gripped in the hands of the resolute dead.


    However, much to my quiet horror, upon the throne was the Deliverer¡­ amongst the resolute dead.


    And, in his skull through his maw was my father''s weapon.


    "What has happened here?" Triumph''s usual calm was gone. His eyes were wide and body trembling at the sight of carnage and butchery in front of us. Our leader and our finest warriors were dead, while my father''s weapon was in the Deliverer''s skull and his body was nowhere to be found. As he spoke, I felt his gaze settle upon me with suspicion, but he caught himself and shook his head. He knew I had been with him all this time, and he even read my father''s last letter to me from the previous month ahead of our arrival. "War chief?"


    An answer was about to leave me, then I heard it.


    The sound of a ram crashing against a wall in the distance.


    I looked once again at the Deliverer''s corpse and found his final act of defiance and came to a realization.


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    Still, there were no were no dead children, and our Citadel remained.


    "There are survivors in the Citadel and they are besieged!" The Citadel could produce much food, but I saw too few bodies on our way here. Not nearly enough to be the whole city''s population. Then, there was the organized defense all the way to the Great Hall. Barricades, last stands, this final battle, and the lack of my father''s corpse¡­ and many others of great esteem. "Call the troops here and prepare them for battle!"


    Triumph nodded and once more cast his magic in the sky.


    As we waited together, I walked towards the Deliverer''s corpse¡­ and took my father''s bloodstained weapon from his skull.


    And, I swore an oath.


    "Rest easy, Deliverer. The Conquerors will not fall today."


    ?


    My troops arrived and joined us, then we marched towards the base of the Citadel.


    There, we found corruption, carnage, and beasts in the shape of our fathers, brothers, and mentors.


    The whole home guard in their finest regalia, along with many chieftains and their artifacts, along with my father and his retinue was gathered at the base of the Citadel seeking purchase.


    They mutilated themselves and from their wounds came forth a deep scarlet blood that burned plant-life and immolated soil into a ruddy, dark mud. A mud that they threw gristle and viscera into as they ate and consumed the flesh of hunted animals and the last rearguard. Amongst them, I found the first sign of civilian life from the city, those that did not reach safety, dead and being consumed by the monsters that replaced those who held our respect, our loyalty, and our love.


    "Whoever they are, whatever happened to them, they are no longer our people." I decided then and there to shoulder the burden. I knew not whether those infested, those who mutilated themselves to bleed endlessly and who tore apart their faces to reveal all their teeth, could be saved. For the sake of those who remained, those who were trapped in the Citadel, I made the decision. "We will kill them all and free those who are trapped in the Citadel."


    My soldiers'' faces were hard and stony, their usual exuberance for battle nowhere to be found, and I even smelled fear in their ranks. Our light, mobile force was over five hundred in number and we quelled many dangers, but those who were corrupted now killed the home guard, the chieftain''s personal retinue, and the Deliverer himself, after his power was returned. This may very well be our last battle.


    So, I roused their spirits with a roar imbued with my very soul.


    "Conquerors! We go now into battle! Now, we head for victory or death for our people! What say you all!?" The primal magic of our kind flowed through me like a river of fire from my heart into my mind and out my maw. I felt it go forth, an invisible force, and reach all my soldiers. My reserves of might were halved in an instant, but with that roar I cast aside their fears, invigorated their spirits, and made their hearts beat to the hymn of war. "What say you to the end of our people!?"


    From all their maws came forth a single answer:


    "NEVER!"


    And, so we charged headlong into battle.


    Into our doom.


    ?


    It went wrong the moment we fought against them.


    They were beyond strength.


    They were beyond talent.


    They were beyond us.


    All of us.


    And, all we could do was survive, as we would against a storm of violence and carnage.


    They warped their bodies through time and space with every movement. More flickers than bodies as they closed the gap between us. One moment whole. The next a blur of movement. Then, finally, a hulking mass of speed and strength that wielded weapons of immense power with all the talent of a master.


    I watched half of my warriors die, torn apart in a maelstrom of violence that fed the corrupted soil burnt black by corrupted blood. Their own blood fed the ground and from it came plants of flesh. Flowers that bloomed with petals that weeped a black ichor the sought out flesh, enrobed them, and turned them into vile fruit that beat on the ground like hearts.


    I wished them aid them and to do more than see Triumph rally them into retreat.


    But I could not.


    Because monster wearing my father''s face fought and spoke to me.


    "Conquest, you''ve returned!" He had my father''s eyes and face above the nose. But below that was a grinning visage of teeth, torn muscle, and frayed skin. His teeth were chipped and broken into fangs. His tongue was gnashed into ribbons, and his words could barely be called such. The weapon he wielded¡­ I knew that it was the source of this corruption. In its mere presence, I felt something eating away at my very soul. "Good! Good! You will make a fine vessel for the true rulers of this world!"


    Madness and cruelty were in the depths of his eyes.


    But my father was still there.


    I could feel his strength and skill behind his blows.


    I could feel him holding back, not using his entire strength, and trying desperately to give me an opening to kill him.


    Yet, I couldn''t and so the creature usurping him caught my side with an open palm, as I blew away his weapon from his hand to try and rip it away from him.


    I succeeded in sending the corrupted weapon, an axe with a glimmering golden eye at it its center, but my father remained corrupted¡­ and with his magic blasted apart my stomach with immense force.


    Only instinct, only years of training, and only preparation for the very worst of wounds, all ingrained to me by my father, saved my life.


    "War chief!" Triumph seized me by my armor and dragged me away, while a blast of magic struck my father and threw him away. My warriors fought against their fathers, their masters, and elder brothers, while my lieutenant dragged me away. I reformed my innards, piece by piece, and dropped my weapons to keep them within my burst apart abdomen. Pain and shock threatened to overwhelm me, but if they did, I would be unable to hold myself together. I forced myself to stay awake, as my soldiers died to protect me, and as my lieutenant gave the most dreaded of orders and shamed himself as I could not. "Retreat!"


    We retreated, as I held together my innards, kept my spine intact, and my back joining my legs to my upper body.


    We retreated, leaving our fellow''s bodies to the enemy.


    We retreated, as the people we protected looked upon us from the Citadel.


    Judging us and finding us wanting.


    As my consciousness flickered, as my strength waned, and as death claimed me, I swore another oath through bloodied lips and as my hands held what I could heal within my body.


    "Father! I will not rest until I kill you! This I swear! This is not the end! No matter the cost!"


    And, so, beneath the Citadel''s shadow we fled.


    I felt as it was cursing us.


    Calling us cowards and fools all.

 V5: Chapter 1:

    V5: Chapter 1:


    ?


    The famine was as difficult to manage as I thought it would be.


    In the game, going through events was simple. A pop up of some text, some art, and choices pop up on the UI. The game pauses, you can save, and pick any of the three options. Even in hardcore and ironman mode, you can have the best choices on your phone, so the timers on the event pop-ups barely matter.


    However, in reality, managing to deliver thousands of tons of food across a continent is a logistical undertaking of ridiculous scale. Without computers to manage and track everything, I needed to hire offices worth of clerks and field agents to just keep track of the shipments. Additionally, I didn''t have any trains or cargo ships. The fastest and most reliable transport system were my aerial shipping lanes, and they were inefficient and hungry for resources. Finally, there was the fact that there was still going to be plenty of people who''ll go hungry and die no matter what I did.


    No matter what I did, hundreds of thousands of people were going to die, and that put a sour taste in my mouth even as I worked through the night.


    It was always there in the back of my mind, with every order I gave, every writ I issued, and every dilemma that I knew the exact, correct answer for.


    People out there were going to die because of lack of food, because the Academy and the Scholars decided to attack one another, burn each other''s fields, and force everyone else to step up after putting them down. Even though I was doing everything right, bandits were still going to spread across the land, as they turned to stealing for their children. Whole villages living in the outskirts of my control and that of others were going to be wiped out.


    Wells dried, so people died of thirst.


    Fields went fallow, so people died of hunger.


    Food was fought over, so people died from one another''s hands.


    These problems could''ve only been solved perfectly years ago, by a united front, and all I could do now was mitigate damage.


    This fucking sucks.


    I''d restart this campaign on principle, if I could.


    ?


    Before I knew it, we were just a season away from the hand-off of the Scholar''s Citadel to the Conquerors.


    Meaning that, of course, we were a turn away from having to commit betrayal and put the Conquerors down.


    Just a bit past my eighteenth birthday.


    "Ayah, the economic report, please?" My office experienced a few changes thanks to the addition of a third Citadel. Now, my table had slates of malleable material encased in metal frames. Click a button and the ''sheet'' portion becomes malleable and you can write on it. Click the button again and what you wrote stays there, and you can pop the thin sheet out, and pop a clean one in. Another switch can be flipped so that the frame imparts the same text on the clean sheet. Very good way of having triplicate documents. Masterfile, copy to send to one person, and another copy to another person. They helped more than I cared to admit. "Ayah?"


    I looked up from my inscribing to find Ayah at the door, speaking to a messenger.


    A messenger in the all black of my ''Royal,'' express messenger corps.


    Most postage across the continent flowed along my flying shipping lanes, or the flying Pony Express that I developed, but for anything of vital importance they came through on my fastest messengers. I gave them the fastest of the winged horses, they were the finest riders and received more supplies, better equipment, and extensive training to fly whole days. Two of them working together in a relay could reach one end of the continent to the other in just three days.


    They''re the fastest people that I''ve got¡­ and that meant any news that they brought was the most important and time-critical.


    They were my substitute for instant pop-ups for events, basically.


    And, since all the events of the Famine were over and dealt with, one arriving now meant something new and terrible happened.


    The confusion and fear on Ayah''s face confirmed my fears, as she came to my desk with the opened message held in trembling hands.


    It only took me a moment to read it over, before I got up and started walking to my dresser with Ayah in hot pursuit.


    "My lord¡­"


    The Deliverer was dead.


    Crusher was thought to be the killer and now controlled their capital.


    And, finally, Conquest asked for my aid in killing her father, as her and her people just managed to survive a slaughter and escape to our shared border.


    In the town where I shared a drink with Crusher.


    There were thousands of questions in my head, along with a bubbling fear in my stomach that Khanrow was still gone and will be gone for another four months at the very least, while this unknown was thrown our way.


    "I don''t know what happened, nor what happened to the people that we trusted, but we need to move swiftly." Compartmentalize. Stem the bleeding for now. Find what can be done, then solve the bigger challenge piece by piece. "Get eyes on the Conqueror''s cities and towns. Send the nearest band of troops over to that town and begin creating trench lines and fortifications. Start sending supplies over there now."


    Ilych and Rita were scouring the Academy lands of the recent monster incursion and delving into the ruins. It''ll be two weeks before they can return with their troops. Riegert was reinforcing the Citadel of the Scholars and its surrounding lands for potential attack by the Guardians and the Wardens after our planned betrayal. Moving him out of there was asking for trouble, at least until we can contact the Guardians and the Wardens and inform them of what was going on. Khanrow''s apprentice was across the continent and looking for Scholars, and I wouldn''t want him anywhere else with what those people could get up to.


    Sarala needed to stay right where he was and keep producing money, thus I was left with a decision that I didn''t want to make.


    Finally interact with Khanrow''s granddaughter and bring her along to solve this problem.


    My boss''s grandkid was the de facto ultimate demon lord of the setting¡­ and I was going to be feeding her EXP.


    Game devs, if you''re listening, please stop fucking my life over.


    It''s bad enough!


    ?


    "Well, I didn''t expect this to be our first meeting." Morgan is the default name for Demon Lord/Big Bad of the game. The name stays the same for the first run, but everything gets randomized in later runs. Gender, race, traits, class, looks, everything is randomized, so you have no idea who they are for future sessions. The idea is that any Champion in play for any Faction can end up fucking them over in the future. Traitor, imposter, terrorist, spy, whatever you want to call the ''Morgan'' was the Champion you didn''t want on your side, because they''ll fuck you over. "Good morning, Jack. Well met."


    A glittering, even charming smile was sent my way, which I returned while cursing in the back of my head the entire time.


    There is, however, a way to identify them every single time.


    Unfortunately, identifying them makes it clear why you can''t murder them.


    Their stat line is fit for a final boss of a whole game session, meaning that killing them early, before their inevitable betrayal is suboptimal.


    Endgame Champion statline is very good to have at your disposal, even without all the equipment and artifacts needed for later.


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    "Nice to meet you as well, Morgan of House Darrin. My apologies for not being able to see you since you arrived." I took her hand and shook it. I spoke the name of her father''s house, which was situating itself well in the capital but wasn''t very noteworthy. Khanrow used the guy to conceal the identity of the rest of his family. Anyway, her room in the Citadel was littered with books on pure white shelves and a large table. Her bed was a cot and tucked into the corner of the room, like an afterthought. Finally, I took note of her calloused hand and tight grip, despite looking so dainty and slender, Morgan could backhand my skull and send it flying into a wall. The moment I heard her name, and followed up on the tasks she was assigned since coming here, I''d done my best to avoid her until now. "I wished to make time to meet with you properly. However, there''s an emergency and we''re short on capable individuals. I need your help."


    "Well, the gods know that I''ve been spending too much time cooped up in this Citadel! I swear Grandfather gave me the administrative role on purpose." I know. It''s hard to believe that young, bespectacled, and mousy woman right in front of me is the biggest threat to life on this planet.


    She''s absolutely swaddled in thick and baggy clothes, carrying a tome, and her glasses are just massive, thick circles that practically mask her face. This woman''s an absolute nerd, and she didn''t look like she could hurt a fly. Yet, she''s got the statline, she''s got the skill, she''s got the talent, she''s got the name, and every assignment that she''s had that I''ve followed up on in secret has been completed perfectly. The perfect Champion¡­ therefore the perfect traitor. "I would be honored to assist. When do we leave, Jack?"


    "Within three hours, pack lightly." Morgan puffed up at my words, glad to hear that she had time to prep, and she pushed up her glasses. Her hair was short, cut to her shoulders, and wavy. "However, first, come along. We need to get you some artifacts and equipment."


    "Alright, Jack!"


    Seriously, she was your typical talented genius born into a great family like the majority of Champions.


    The only difference was that she was too good to be true and could do everything right.


    Espionage? She''ll catch a spy within a few days.


    Administration? The town she''s working on becomes ludicrously prosperous.


    Research aid? The project is completed ahead of schedule and under budget.


    Diplomacy? She''ll have people begging for her friendship within a turn.


    Combat? There''s nothing I''ve thrown at her that''s given her a hard time.


    Everyone else had things that they couldn''t do, but not Morgan.


    A part of me hoped that I was wrong, that the name meant nothing and that she really was just an exceptional individual raised under perfect circumstances without a single flaw, but I wasn''t counting on it. I''ll need to use her sparingly, prepare to put her down in the mid-game, and handle the consequences of doing so before she showed any signs of corruption. To mitigate that, I needed to keep her fame down, make sure she didn''t lead any organizations and towns, and generally¡­ keep her close by and acting as a bodyguard.


    Yeah.


    I needed to keep the ultimate bad guy of this planet, the person who''ll subjugate even the fucking Demons of this world to her cause, as close as I possibly could.


    In-game, there''s no way for the Morgan to not become the traitor, but maybe I could if I paid attention and if I did things right.


    Still, I was going to prepare for the worst.


    "Hello? Jack? Did you hear what I just asked?" Morgan interrupted my train of thoughts as we walked together. My normal guards formed two columns around us, while Ayah, I, and Morgan headed to the treasury. They''d heard of what was happening, so they were more tense than usual. There was an echo of a light giggle behind her words and a smile played on her lips. "Grandfather''s the sneaky one who knows everything. Not me, I''m afraid. I''ll need you to humor me."


    Augh, the worst part of having Morgan around was that she had a high Diplomacy stat. Usually, that was the dump stat for most Champions. That wasn''t the case here. Just from interacting with her, I could tell that she was charming.


    I needed to bullshit regularly to keep my secrets my own.


    "Information is limited, I''m afraid. All we know is that the Conqueror''s Citadel has been taken by one of their Champions, another Champion has requested our aid, and the Deliverer is dead." I chose my words carefully. Usually, I liked to play myself up, make myself seem more influential, and more capable in the presence of Champions. When you''re dealing with army killers, you want them to respect and honor you. In the case of Morgan, I wanted her to underestimate me and do all the work anyway. "That''s all we know, but we''re going to Tradestown to find out more. What do you think?"


    "I see. Hm. No, you''re correct. It''s best to head into this matter with as little presuppositions and beliefs as possible. With our eyes open, we''ll find out more. However, we can still construct the start of an investigation. Do any of our foes beyond the continent have any ability to take over minds or bodies, according to your studies, Jack?" Why? Why can''t you just be a normal, overpowered Champion instead of the big, bad evil person? Do you know how helpful it is to have someone talented at everything on your team? It''s really amazing. "There is, of course, the possibility that one of the other Citadel holders have done something to destabilize the Conquerors before they received their second Citadel. Hm. There''s also the possibility that the remains of the Scholars have done something, and from the reports that I''ve read, the bodies of quite a few of the upper leadership of the former Academy have never been found."


    Yep.


    This woman''s going to be a real pain in the ass to fight.


    "I''ll send a message off to Gilbert and Khanrow''s remaining agents to investigate. The Merchants may have played their hand with a Champion versed in cloaks and daggers. Or, it''s possible that the Academy or the Scholars are trying to take a Citadel." If there was anyone who could smuggle a coup force into a capital, it would be the Merchants of the Marshlands and their Espionage Champion. There''s been enough time for them to research disguises, too, and the Citadel''s medical facilities could be modified to do some crazy things, like replicate facial features and scars. Yeah. Completely possible. "Still, save those thoughts for our travel. We need to equip you with as much as we can."


    "Understood!"


    We reached the vault and armory of the Citadel and the two gates guarded by Citadel-forged Guardians opened in our presence.


    Ilych and Rita''s work during the early game was now paying off.


    Most of the gear was common or green, nothing special, but a full set of artifacts and equipment was still a decisive edge.


    Walls and walls of weapons, armor, and trinkets from ages past were arrayed before us and Khanrow''s granddaughter looked upon it all with delight.


    Meanwhile, the faint displeasure in my gut deepened into worry and fear.


    There was only one event that could take out a Faction''s Citadel and send their land into civil war that came to mind.


    The "Dominated Mind" event where Demons usurp a Citadel, which occurred when a land''s corruption was just too high and most of their population turned to Demon worship.


    I wanted to say it was too early for that to be possible, that there just wasn''t enough time for that to happen, but the whole situation, if true, was telling me otherwise.


    Just what the hell am I supposed to do if endgame events decide to pop while I''m still struggling to put together a nation that can survive?

 V5: Chapter 2

    V5: Chapter 2


    ¡­


    A whole lot of bullshit that can''t be avoided.


    That''s the best way to describe what''s coming.


    Apocalypses change the whole dynamic in a game. They''re the closest thing to a campaign-mode that the game had. Each one has a cast, a set of characters, different enemy Champions, different positive and negative events, and specific loot tables. Every apocalypse released came with expansions to the game''s systems for free.


    You pay for the new content, which pays for the fixes and upgrades to the UI.


    Between expansions, you could buy Champions for Factions, which come with new units that can only be deployed with that Faction. These guys came with their own little stories and challenges, and not allowed on Ranked Multiplayer. If the devs had to balance all their little additions, the game would''ve bloated in the extreme, so they didn''t bother¡­ and managed to sell wacky, cool characters without getting murdered in the forums.


    Sadly, I haven''t found any DLC Champions, but back to the situation.


    I''d thought that the coastal regions were going to get fucked over first, so I''d prepared for that.


    The Sahuagin are Lovecraft-flavored abominations that live beneath the ocean. The story goes that most of the Ancient''s experiments with esoteric and cosmic energies involved were held in undersea domes, so that they had loads of water to act as a buffer for any radiation or to dissipate leakages. The problem was that their containment methods were too good, and the thing they brought down from space corrupted and took over the bottom of the ocean, then it spread its cult all over the world.


    Those cultists brought down most of the ground-to-space infrastructure and blew up a lot of important shit.


    Thankfully, the Ancients gutted their mind-control abilities and ability to use psionic bullshit, but those were going to come back the more Citadels they got under their control.


    The Forgers were going to have to deal with that, while the Wardens were in the line of fire.


    There were other apocalypses incoming from different vectors, but while I went over to find out what the hell happened with the Conquerors, I was worried about the Sahuagin and how the Forgers will do against them.


    8 times out of ten, if the Sahuagin show up against the Forgers, the Forgers beat the stuffing out of them. To make up for the last twenty percent, I''d started contacting them, working with them to clear their part of the former Academy, and generally build diplomatic ties with them.


    Now, while I went and made sure a civil war didn''t devastate the strongest race on the continent, I could only hope that they''d be okay.


    No matter how good my plans are, I can''t defend myself against curveballs.


    Tradestown had no choice by to expand and grow into a human and Orc city as the hub of trade between the Conquerors and us. It was larger than most of the towns that made up Talon Hill''s inner regions, though nowhere close to my actual capital. With a population of fifty thousand, half of which were Conquerors, Tradestown had wide roads, large buildings, massive warehouses, and loads of landing strips and infrastructure for both my flying and ground-based transportation.


    I hadn''t been to Tradestown since I last met Crusher here five years or so ago.


    Not very easy to forget, since he''d all but asked me to help keep his people together.


    So, I''d told him about harnessing all his people''s aggression via a the Colosseum Wonder, having their young practice hunting, and putting lots of time between classes where they have to read or write. Since then, he''d been more than cordial with me, supported me, and worked with me. I thought that he was cool as hell¡­ yet upon landing I found Tradestown hosting a heavily-wounded and weakened army led by his daughter Conquest, while he was claimed to be a traitor.


    Not ideal was an understatement.


    Her physician woke her up when I arrived and I went to her, but any thoughts on an in-depth and long interview faded away when I saw her.


    I''d wished the physician had told me to go away, instead of allowed me in.


    "Your aid here will not be forgotten, King of Wisdom." Conquest was wounded heavily, by Conqueror standards. That meant that she was now being forced into a magical coma, so that her outsides can grow around her insides. The physician of the Conquerors described her wound as disemboweled and nearly bisected. Apparently, she healed her innards before they could spill everywhere, held it in during the whole retreat, and that saved her life. Don''t know how that worked, but that''s how magic just is, I guess. "But, I must ask for more time to heal, before¡­ urgh¡­ speaking with you."


    "Then, I will ask once you and your army are both fed and healthy. For now, focus on becoming the leader that they need." I leveraged Conquest''s dedication to honor, loyalty, and responsibility and she caved. With a nod, she allowed herself to collapse onto the large cot she''d been laid in. In just a few minutes, she was already asleep and the physicians and mages started tending to her again, just like they''d been when I arrived, so I addressed Morgan and Ayah. "Come on, we need to gather information."


    "I''ve got my notebook ready!" Morgan was cheery and all smiles, while we made our way outside of the field hospital. Thankfully, I had to foresight to get some extra supplies stored here. Just in case we needed to launch a force that can outfit the town for a siege. I''m sure that the more tactically-minded of the Conquerors would notice¡­ and be happy that they were being taken seriously as opponents. Those supplies were mostly weapons, but there were plenty of medical supplies, since I expected that fight to cause a lot of casualties. "Where to first? Lady Conquest''s lieutenant, Triumph, perhaps?"


    "We''ll do that. Ayah, get accounts from the regular soldiers. Morgan will take up bodyguard duties."


    "Yes, your majesty." Ayah bowed and left. I gave the Ancient Administrator the signal to stay within earshot just in case, and she made her own signal confirming that. Couldn''t be too careful. "I will return within the hour."


    With that said, I was left with the destined Archtraitor, as she walked beside me eager to take accounts via a notebook and self-inking, magical quill that she just had on her person.


    The world might get destroyed by this nerd.


    Anyway, I brought her up to speed.


    "I haven''t worked with Conquest''s troops, just the Champion herself, so keep that in mind while we speak to them. We can''t show weakness." The field hospital in the town square had every tent filled to the brim with physicians and mages as they worked to save as many lives as possible. Conquerors had hardy constitutions, but all that mass and size also meant that it wasn''t easy to get pain-killers to work on them. Magic was the only option, and when mana was limited, it was better to heal than dull pain. Needless to say, most of the Conquerors were enduring healing both magical and physical without any analgesics¡­ and there was barely any noise being made through the whole camp. Hardy bastards, yet they were somehow thrown out of their own capital. "If you have any doubts, show off the fact that you''re powerful, and they''ll follow you."


    "I see, I see." Like a fresh-eyed reporter, she took notes and nodded as she followed me. If you ignored the fact that she could kill most of the people in this camp with a flick of her wrist and some magic, she''ll seem like your average, mousey intern eager to please. Oh, wait, she has a salary and is related to my boss. Nepotism hire that actually has talent, I guess. "How far can we go for the sake of intimidation? Words only or is physically overpowering them without harming them permanently allowed?"


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "Physical contact and harm are both considered assault. Focus on words and maybe showcasing your skills, but never draw a weapon, including magic. Don''t threaten them, either." This sort of thing was common sense in my opinion, but there was a lot of common sense that I took for granted that many didn''t follow. A lot of mercenaries got turned into paste by a Conqueror for being idiots and drawing steel or flaring magic. A pointed weapon is a death threat, so they react accordingly. "If you have no idea what to do, it''s better to stay silent."


    "Understood!"


    With that exchanged finished, the two of us went ahead to try and get an idea on what happened to the Conquerors.


    I really hoped that Demons weren''t involved, but at the same time I couldn''t think of any other reason that this all happened that exonerated Crusher.


    I liked the guy and hoped that none of this was his fault, despite the fact his daughter attested to his betrayal¡­ and the fact that he was the one who nearly killed her.


    That was pretty damning evidence.


    I gave Morgan some tips and advice, then she proceeded to use that information to extract every ounce of detail she could from everyone that she met.


    Man, it must be nice to be born with ''I Win'' stats, because you''re the final boss.


    "How do your injuries affect your memory, warrior? Do you expect me to believe that a mere cut such as the one you have has addled your mind?" Morgan took on a new persona the moment we entered the first tent on the way to Conquest''s lieutenant. She''d asked me for the chance to practice, and proceeded to just make all the honorbound warriors she encountered dance in the palm of her hands. "The battle is not yet over. Rest when you have seen to its end, and once again aimed your weapon at the heart of the foe!"


    I was just standing in the background and watching her work.


    "I will not have my honor sullied¡­ not by you, nor myself!" Breaker grunted. The dude was being operated on as we spoke. His leg was being sewed back on, while healing magics hasted healing. I''ve felt healing magic before. The nerves came first, as they were the finest and smallest parts of any area of the body. You felt pain of the wound healing until it was finished, but Breaker was talking through it just like all the rest cajoled by Morgan. "As we fought the damned warriors of the betrayer, we found their strength enhanced by unnatural might, and their bodies seemed to jump and warp as they swung their weapons at us¡­ and their blood burned our skin when they spilled it upon us."


    The more that I heard, the less that I liked, because while things were making sense¡­ they also weren''t.


    This was clear signs of corruptive influence, but this event was supposed to happen if Demonic infiltrators weren''t countered. Leave your lands unguarded and unprotected in the shadows, and you''re going to find villages, forts, and even Champions turning over to the side of the Demons. Towns and forts become fleshy hives that churned out corrupted soldiers from the pops that it consumed, and those Units have lots of strength and do poison damage to their enemies when hurt.


    The issue was that Demonic infiltration and corruption shouldn''t happen until there''s an actual demonic foothold on the continent. This wasn''t just an issue with me correlating gameplay with reality, but the fact that Demons are horribly, terribly cursed by the Ancients. They need corrupted land to live on, and followers to do their dirty work, because if they don''t, they''ll die horrible and gruesome deaths.


    Gameplay is fickle and fucked, but lore is true and steadfast.


    However, if the impossible is the only option, then it must be possible.


    Therefore, someway and somehow, a Demonic cultist or someone adjacent to them managed to infect Crusher and corrupt him to cause this crazy mess.


    But, if it''s just corruption, and there''s no real Demon involved sitting in a tower of flesh and bone that''s nigh-unassailable¡­


    "This corruption that you speak of. It stirs memories in me in certain texts. I believe this is a weapon deployed against the Conquerors in hopes of destroying your people. Not a wanton act of betrayal by your best and brightest." I noticed Breaker''s eyes widen at my words, and his composure nearly broke. The fact that he was having a limb reattached barely made him blink. That the Champion of his people was corrupted and not betraying them after all? That almost broke through his placid mask. "Come, Morgan, we need to gather more information. Tell a guard to send a runner to fetch the sister artifact to my Staff of Cleanse. I think that we may have a chance if we work quickly."


    Corruption with Demons in play needed the Panacea Staff to heal it and return your Champion/Town/Pops to your side.


    The Cure Staff ''struggles'' to fight against Demons, according to the text, and there''s a blurb about Demons having to use more power to overwhelm it.


    Therefore, if there''s no Demon in play, then it was worth trying.


    Still, Morgan whispered to me the moment we were out of earshot of any Conqueror.


    "Don''t you plan on betraying them? Why not let them weaken further before aiding them?" Morgan suggested, but I didn''t stop moving towards the next tent for more information. She followed me with a steady breath. I couldn''t see her face. But it was eerily easy to envision utterly calm, almost soulless eyes piercing through the large lenses of her glasses. This woman who''ll hold this world in one hand and crush it with a laugh. "This doesn''t seem like the right move, Jack."


    Time to try and reign her in and save the natural source of supersoldiers I''ll need to kick her ass.


    "Don''t be afraid to look ten years more into the future, Morgan. Have faith in your ability to plan and overcome challenges. I planned to betray the Conquerors, yes, but I wanted to make them mine. Not kill them. Their strength, their power, their talent, and ability. I want it all." I did my best to give my speech in a way that''ll reach an apathetic monster masquerading as a mousy, nerdy Champion with far too much talent. The best way to do that was to sound evil¡­ though, I had to admit that I wasn''t really doing much more than adding some flare to my real strategy. No matter how you slice it, my plans are cruel and tyrannical. Also, I kept facing forward. I felt like I''d keel over and puke if I saw the visage my imagination drew up. "If they die, who would you have hold the line against the rest of the world? Which other people on this continent can hope to strike back against our foes?"


    There was a long and terrifying silence from Morgan as she followed me, and I felt like I was being judged, weighed, and measured by the creature supposedly guarding me.


    Or, maybe, I was completely paranoid and gaslighting myself and she was just asking a real, logical question as I misinterpreted things.


    "Oh, that makes sense! You''re right, Jack!" Whichever was the case, when Morgan spoke again, her voice was cheery as usual. I looked back, and instead of getting a sword through my back the moment I let my guard down, there was a brightness to her eyes that made me question everything I knew. Was this really the person who''ll bring an end to the planet? "This helps us out way more, especially if we can find out how to prevent the same attack from harming us."


    Some people say that lies are kind, while the truth is cruel.


    In this case, I honestly didn''t know what I wanted from Morgan.


    So, I put the thought aside for later and refocused.


    I needed to do all that I could to save the Conquerors, or at least get enough to have a stable population to produce armies from.


    Gotta survive the mid-game, before I worry about the late-game and the end-game, after all.

 V5: Chapter 3

    V5: Chapter 3


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    Ill news arrived with the riders clad in black.


    Ilych turned to listen, as I read the news, while she stood atop the back of a Manticore with her blade embedded in its last, remaining brain. Behind her an encampment of monsters burned, their final attempt to survive dead at her feet.


    "The Deliverer is dead, Conquest is at Tradestown, and Crusher along with many others of the Conqueror''s highest caste have become corrupted." I summarized the later, and Ilych peered at me silently through the slight slit in her all-black helm. "Ayah and Khanrow''s granddaughter are with our king. They''re investigating the matter. We''ve been told to head north, to the lands of the Guardians, then sweep east along the Conqueror''s borders. Riders have already been sent for them to gather an army."


    My comrade in arms was silent, her cloak flaring as she leapt from the large creature and slowing her descent. Her armored form hit the ground without making a hint of noise. At night, in her all-black armor that supped on blood and grew stronger with every kill, she could kill and destroy our foes unhindered by anything.


    "The winds urge me to make haste and do as he bid. We can leave him with Ayah and Morgan for now." Since our battle to take the Scholars, she''s begun to train herself in speaking and leadership. Celia had led us then, but our king had followed to support. If we had not needed his orders and support, then he could''ve returned to safety after lifting us in to complete our mission. As such, she now trained and spoke to ensure his life was not risked again. "Let us go now."


    She spoke, and such was her command.


    But, still, the soldiers looked to me.


    Commands were not enough, they needed to be conveyed, planned for, and broken down into lesser pieces for our force.


    "Klyne, head to the nearest outpost and request fresh horses from the region. We will make our way there." I could not fault her for her commands. It was her duty to go into the thickest of battles and lead from the front and kill all who opposed our king. To take time to explain would limit her effectiveness and lessen her purpose. I knew this, so I grew along with her and became the link between her and the officers. We commanded a band of a hundred and fifty soldiers with another hundred supporting us in a trailing encampment. "Janice, gather the reserves and loot the encampment and find anything that these monsters brought to the surface with them. Rudolph, you and your men will take the carriages and rest while we move."


    They gave me all their agreement and left my presence.


    Then, I spoke to Ilych once more.


    "What do the winds say about the tidings in the Conqueror''s lands?"


    Ilych''s connection with whatever magic in her mind was growing stronger and stronger and granting her greater boons and gifts.


    I worried, though, that it would overtake her.


    For now, though, it has served us in our duties.


    "The winds say that we should look into the projects that Jack has in progress at the Citadel of Scholar''s Fall." Ilych staggered at the words, and I caught her swiftly. It only took a moment for her to recover, but this form of prescience was something that she could not do in battle. She took off her helm and her nose was bloody and eyes bloodshot. I offered her a cloth and she accepted it with a nod. The bleeding had already ceased, the armor assisting her healing by drinking from the beast she slew, and once again she spoke. "The Winds spoke to me of a grave and terrible threat, but we are prepared for it due to Jack''s foresight. There are weapons in the Citadel that can be used to arm the army that we will raise."


    It was a magnificent, powerful gift, but time and time against it only gave us insight into the depths of our king''s mind.


    "Then, we will go and do that. However, you will be in our personal carriage and rest." Ilych tried to argue, but I shook my head and supported more of her weight. She was heavy, but that was a good thing. I feared the day that I would raise her up, and she''d be lighter than I thought. With her constant charges, and her reputation spreading across the land, she was becoming more and more of a target with every passing day. "Allow me to at least do my duty as an adjutant, fool."


    That earned me a faint smile and a chuckle from my dear friend, then she nodded and closed her eyes.


    Almost causing me to drop her as she fell asleep on command.


    "You damned imbecile! I said fall asleep in the wagon!"


    Ilych let loose a single chuckle before letting her feet retake her weight, and I grumbled all the way to the wagon which held all the artifacts we gathered. It had space within it for a cot that could hold a body in stasis for prolonged periods, for either her use or my own in the event of an emergency, but when not functional it worked as a bed for her. I preferred a hammock on the side of the carriage myself, but Ilych used the cot often.


    As I supported her, she suddenly broke the companionable silence that we shared.


    "Rita, do you know where the Shroud of Undeath is?" I stilled at her words. The Artifact which gave me life from a corpse. I retained the skill, talent, and potential of ''Tira'' of the Children of the Elm, and none of her hatred and rage against all life not of her people. "The Winds said to keep it close in the coming days. In case I¡ª


    "No. I don''t know where it is. And, if I did, I wouldn''t take it. You''re not dying, Ilych."


    "I would return with the Shroud."


    "Not as yourself. Never yourself."


    I shook my head and my friend was silent for a while before nodding.


    "It was a precautionary question. Nothing more. I don''t intend to die, my friend."


    "You better not."


    I won''t let her.


    I''ve let too many people die already.


    ¡­?


    By the time Conquest was able to talk, Ayah, Morgan, and myself had pieced things together.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Or, rather, after I supplied some lore to the two of them, they figured it out while thinking that I contributed.


    Sorry, it''s not actual knowledge, just me scarring my brain with the in-game encyclopedia for so long that it''s present in the next life.


    "As you rested, we took the liberty of gathering information from your troops and reconstructing the entirety of your incident. It goes as follows." Morgan changed clothes after a short rest in the house we requisitioned. Her whole wardrobe was exactly the same with this set of clothes being a baggy shirt, with some baggy pants, and a baggy jacket. Her massive glasses were also the same. The only difference with this outfit and the last was that she decided to put an academic''s hat on for the presentation. She was regretting it, and her cheeks were pink as she spoke. Just take it off. I can''t watch without getting flashbacks¡­ oh, god why did I wear a full three-piece suit to a highschool presentation, they were all laughing at me¡ª "You returned from your latest effort to alleviate the harm of the famine in the surrounding lands, then found the your capital city under peril. You encountered a series of defenses and last stands, until you found the Deliverer and his guards dead, and their killers at the base of the Citadel¡­ who was your father and various elites of your people."


    "Correct." Conquest nodded, and in that brief moment, Morgan took off the beret-looking thing she''d sported on her head and stuffed it inside one of the large pockets of her cloak. Good sleight of hand there, buddy. Conquest probably noticed, but won''t mention it. "My men also told you of the corruption we faced?"


    "They did and none of your troops seemed to be corrupted. The precautions you took before battle seemed to have worked. We are sending missives to every nation now with your findings." Morgan stated and looked at Ayah. The Ancient Administrator nodded and ceded her portion to speak. "We have also discerned that it''s likely that the people trapped in the Citadel number in the low ten thousands. Can you verify that? We have no idea of your people''s exact numbers."


    "Forty thousand lived in the capital." Conquest closed her eyes and a tightness clung to them when she opened them. "I counted two thousand bodies on our path from the outskirts to the Citadel."


    Ayah stepped forward at those words.


    "How many were corrupted?"


    "There were no more than a hundred trying to bring the gate of the Citadel down with a military ram. Our sole ram fitted to bring down the walls of a Citadel." Ah, I had wondered why a ram was such a big deal. I couldn''t imagine a wooden block suspended on some iron chains with a roof and wheels bringing down a Citadel''s door. If it was the siege unit of the Conqueror''s, though, I could see it. Those seige engines took a turn to destroy a Citadel''s gate and open it up. It could be shorter than 1 turn, though, since that was just a game engine limitation. "Our tests estimated three weeks to destroy a Citadel wall with the weapon. They may be rebuilding it now and with their greater strength, they may bring the gate low sooner."


    Conquest inferred the next question that Ayah was ready to ask.


    "I believe that many of my people left to the countryside, however, much of the home guard was destroyed there. We have our border guards and patrols, but they number no more than a few hundred. Barely enough to bring my force to full strength." Conquest shook her head. "I must ask for your aid in retaking the Capital and saving my people, King of Wisdom. Know that my people will forever be in your debt¡ª


    I didn''t hesitate to jump on the opportunity.


    "At the very least, I want the Scholar''s Citadel in exchange for my help." I was ready to reason, to tell her that I couldn''t give it to her people with their military gone, but I received her answer before I could explain.


    "Done. That Citadel shall be yours in exchange for your aid in this battle to retake our capital and free those who are in the Citadel. As of this moment, my goal is to see my people survive. The future of the nation shall wait until later." Oh. Goody. Conquest is far higher on the Lawful Good scale than I thought. That makes her a lot easier to manipulate¡­ but, I won''t press on this too much. Honestly, I thought that I''d get five more years with the Citadel at most. "But, if you cannot, I will take all my people to the lands of the Scholars and claim it all for them as another home."


    That statement was so insane that I had to tell her, even if in-game you switch to another Citadel as your capital if you lose your first one.


    That feature just doesn''t fucking work in reality.


    "A Citadel from a set of three in what remains of the Conquerors will be tantamount to slow suicide. You will all die, as others will try to take it for themselves. I will subjugate your people before I let you do something so foolhardy." I looked at the behemoth of muscle and power, already healed in a day after being nearly bisected, and matched her fury-filled gaze. Conquest sat up from her bed, the white linen wrapped around her midsection staining red from broken stitches, but neither of us broke our gazes. "Do you understand, Conquest? Win this battle. Do not think of losing the homeland you have now and consigning your people to oblivion. I will have you killed and make your people mine the moment you consider it."


    For a long time, Conquest was silent at my words, bleeding into her bandages and saying nothing as we met each other''s glares.


    Thankfully, she blinked first and grunted as she laid herself down.


    "I will do what I must for my people."


    "Yes, Conquest. Your people. Not your nation."


    I refuted her words as best as I could, but heard no reply from the wounded Champion, so I elected to leave.


    Damn, I know that she''s grieving, but hearing a suicidal plan like that just made me angry.


    Planning for a loss isn''t bad, but planning to fucking die to just uphold a principle after you lose is!

 V5: Chapter 4

    V5: Chapter 4


    ¡­


    Another day, another increase to my desire to leave this continent and hide in an isolated island in the middle of nowhere to try and die of old age.


    Conquest told me too goddamn much.


    The Kingslayer Event had popped! The Deliverer was going to give me the chance to take over his Citadel and people while retaining all their infrastructure and armies! The best event in the game, especially when you have a decent Champion specced for single-target damage or something with lifesteal!


    If it pops, you can just put the right Champion up against him, then you''re at least 1 Citadel and 1 developed region richer. Not only that, but you don''t have to jump through any hoops to start acquiring Conqueror units. You just get all the ones they unlocked already, there''s no loyalty issues with their Champions, and there''s no maluses to their population''s happiness values!


    Literally the best event in the game¡­ and it gets absolutely wrecked by some random garbage that I didn''t see coming.


    "I''m depressed, Ayah, can you end my misery?"


    "No. There''s work that needs to be done. Here are the remains on my records regarding this foe of my creators." I grunted and picked my face off my desk. If I could reload a save, I would, even if it meant doing everything again for the last three turns. Had I gotten even a hint of this happening, I would''ve done everything in my¡ªno. No point in wasting time thinking about it. I''m going to expand my spy network, literally give Khanrow all the money he needs, and casting as wide of a net as possible. The game didn''t have a dedicated espionage wonder, but I was going to make it happen anyway. If I can get air freight online, I can most certainly start introducing this world to clandestine, national organizations with no ethics, no morals, and hidden budgets. "Are you ready to work?"


    "Yeah, I''m done." The situation is fucked, but it''ll get even more fucked if I don''t do anything. The best that I can do is make sure I''m prepared to respond and even pre-empt shit like this before it fucks me over. That''s all. Okay, I really am all out of salt now. "Have managed to get information on what happened?"


    "I have. Many refugees were scattered in every direction from the capital. I found them through some requisitioned riders in towns hastily fortifying and brought them here, where I questioned them and formed a timeline." Ayah took a pouch from its hip and placed its contents on its hand. In moments the sphere of Ancient materials turned into pictures and words in its hand composed of strings of the white material weaving through one another and adopting different colors. The Ancient Administrator was using this power to display information. In other words, a slide-based presentation. Even in another life, I couldn''t escape the fact slide presentations were optimal for conveying information. "We have a solid starting time of the onslaught, the primary carrier of the corruption, and a more solid understanding of how many people were left in the Citadel."


    "Lay it on me."


    "The crises began when Crusher returned alone from an expedition in the region between the Children of the Elm''s former Citadel and their own. He was said to be following rumors regarding a powerful weapon in the area." I got a good look at the Crusher''s mistakes, as he made his way from the capital to the in-between/neutral region between Conqueror lands and where I produced most of my gold. My memory was a bit fuzzy, but along the march in that direction, a lot of events popped up. I''d avoided the bad ones that I heard about for the sake of maintaining as much troops as possible. "Nothing is known about his expedition, and if the weapon he returned with is the one he searched for, but he returned alone, heavily injured, and was taken in by the guards of the Conquerors at their capital. He did not go to any villages between his destination and the capital."


    "How long was he gone from the capital?"


    "A week."


    "That''s not nearly enough time to find an ancient weapon even for the strongest of Conquerors." The timeline Conqueror had didn''t match the event''s timeline for the Demon Blade. You''re supposed to send a person over there and explore Ancient Ruins, which takes more or less a turn. Even for Champions, it''s suicide to run into Ancient Ruins without caution. "I think that rules out the possibility that they found it on their own¡­ but that raises the question of how he returned."


    Something was fishy about the ''source'' of the artifact that corrupted Crusher now. Now that I thought about it, that events supposed to corrupt a whole unit of your army including the Crusher, and they''ll be the vectors of corruption that ''spread'' across your nation. If Crusher found and took the weapon for himself, then he''d have corrupted his soldiers, infected far more people on his way back to the capital, and hit it with a horde.


    But that horde would''ve been detected early, the Conquerors could''ve attacked it from afar, and rumors spread fast enough that I''d have heard of Crusher going crazy and mustering a crazy army.


    This was more like his guards and people disappeared, and he suddenly re-appeared in the Conqueror''s capital in a timeframe that no one could respond to.


    "¡­It is an early guess, but Crusher''s corrupted form could''ve been transported by air." Ayah spoke, and the missing piece of the puzzle fell into place. That''s right. There wasn''t anything stopping anyone else from copying the transport network I made for themselves. Wonders didn''t just turn into piles of gold and broken dreams if someone built it before you did. Not only that, but everyone else could focus on more specialized, quality craft while I''d focused on sheer airlift capacity. "We should ask Conquest if they have such projects online."


    "Make a note of that. Let''s see a projection." I agreed and stared as Ayah manipulated the ancient material with an air-based transport in mind. The distance between the event location and the Conqueror''s capital became practically meaningless. It would just take hours. "Okay. They could''ve had a camp there taking it on in secret, with Crusher coming in to finish everything off."


    In-game, armies were stuck to the Ancient Ruin until they were completed, but there was no reason that should be true in reality. The Champions and Units could go to and fro, send out wounded, bring in fresh supplies, and the Champions could go elsewhere for a moment before going back for harder fights their troops couldn''t handle. Under the assumption that was happening, Crusher could''ve started the expedition a few months ago, went to finish it, and came back corrupted and fucked over.


    However¡­


    "That still doesn''t explain how returning didn''t result in him corrupting a village on the way back. There''s no way that he could''ve flown back, and anyone touching that thing would''ve gone crazy." Crusher with the weapon in hand would''ve been too crazy to be transported via air. Storing the weapon didn''t work. That''s one of the options that pop up if you trigger the event with the Demon Weapon. It doesn''t work. It takes over the army storing it anyway. It''s a lose-lose scenario the moment you see it, unless you just flat out ignore the rumor and don''t head over there. "We would''ve been warned. The Conquerors would''ve smashed that corrupted army apart with sheer numbers."


    I tried to bridge the gap between what had happened and how it had happened, while Ayah helped with a furrowed brow.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    While I was drawing up blanks, Ayah spoke.


    "The Conquerors couldn''t have transported the blade and the corrupted Champion, but the Demons and their ilk could have." Ayah stated, and I felt my stomach drop. The Ancient introduced a third party in the schematics. A party that jumped on Crusher and his men as they were excavating, then commandeered their transportation, and dropped Crusher off as a living WMD at the front of the capital that couldn''t hit any ablative settlements. "I believe that this is a greater possibility. If Conquest found the artifact and retrieved it, he would''ve attacked from the Ancient Ruins and created a path of corruption and destruction."


    "Right. If there''s a third party present that can handle the source of corruption, that changes everything. They can hold onto it after incapacitating Crusher, then they''ll be able to put him right on the capital''s doorstep avoiding detection until it''s too late."


    My decision to start heavily investing into espionage was looking more and more sound the more I considered this situation.


    This was rapidly turning into a shitshow of epic proportions, and I didn''t want this happening again.


    But that was for later.


    "Keep that in mind for our upcoming investigation. Send people over to the villages between that ruin and the capital of the conquerors. The Conquerors have an air defense system, right?" My information network was lacking, but I had the manpower and the money necessary to conduct investigations. Then, I had my own brain and several others that could pick through the conversation with a fine-toothed comb. "Question them and find any flights from there to here and compare them to our records."


    "It will be done, Jack." Ayah gave me a bow, before turning to her notes and putting aside the malleable matter that she''d been using. When Morgan returned from her assignment, Ayah would start on that new project, and we''ll return here with insight on what the fuck happened. For now, though, we were going to conduct a rescue operation. "I shall see you when you return."


    Right.


    Time to conduct this era''s first aerial rescue operation.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    Once my father had spoken to me of the true ability of the King of Wisdom''s flying corps. My fellows, including Triumph, scoffed when I relayed his words. Very few had believed that the flying transport was anything more than poorly disguised military transports, ones that we were foolish enough to prepare landing sites for at our capital. Amongst my generation, nearly everyone believed in the idea that we were being threatened every day with their presence, and some entertained the notion of bringing one low and kidnapping its rider to find the information that we sought.


    They were all silent, as we looked upon that ''military force'' ready to right the wrongs that we committed.


    Overnight a whole field outside of Tradestown had been cleared of grass and trees. Soil had been levelled and pressed down with large stones pulled by draft animals. Now, large prefabricated structures were being erected, ranging from stables to a control center, and finally large tents for the coming refugees. However, our eyes were not upon those, but instead all the flights diverted for the sake of our people.


    We knew that the King of Wisdom had spent as much on this aerial network as we did our grand Colosseum, if not more We had mocked the idea, especially as we knew that we were set to receive our own wyverns that would contest the skies. Not only that, but we built towers and defenses that would protect our cities and skies from attack with strong archers and crossbows and ballistae.


    We were proven wrong when the King of Wisdom used his flying force to make an impossible march possible.


    Now, again, we were proven wrong.


    "There''s enough here to evacuate the whole Citadel in days." Triumph looked upon the field. There were over sixty transports with their flying steeds being watered and cared for by people hired from the town. I knew that each one could carry a five tons of cargo each from their work with us in the famine and so did Triumph. "He can truly send an army anywhere he wishes, can''t he?"


    I shook my head at those words, brushing away my own concerns, as the King of Wisdom and his two Champions approached.


    The dire look on his features formed a ball of worry in my stomach.


    "We''ve found something from our search. There''s another force involved in this tragedy. No. This is a deliberate attack on your people, Conquest." I was familiar with Ayah, but the other Champion beside him seemed like a clerk or a scribe, especially as she wrote diligently in a journal and fixed her glasses constantly. Since he was speaking with such candidness, however, I paid the other little heed. "Long ago, as we travelled to bring the Children of the Elm low, we passed through lands north of your own. There, we heard rumors of a powerful weapon once wielded by an ancient god to great effect. Due to time, we elected to ignore it¡­ then, as we investigated, we found information that your father was traveling to the location of those ruins we suspected."


    I listened and waited for more, while filing away the fact that even the king of Wisdom''s was sometimes constrained by time.


    "You gave a description of the weapon as an axe in your father''s hands¡­ did it look like flesh and bone? Did it have an eye that met with yours in your father''s hands?" My teeth grit and I nodded at his words. The King of the Descendants nodded gravely with a furrowed brow and no mirth in his eyes. "I suspect that this weapon is a leftover from the Ancient''s demonic foes, those who corrupt flesh and enslave minds¡­ but your father was not corrupted by his own doing. It was by another''s hand, because otherwise he would''ve raged from that ruin to your Citadel and left a path of destruction in his wake with all his guards and men."


    I nodded at the deduction and took note of the new Champion at his side furiously writing notes and nodding at his words. Was she supposed to be an administrator? My men had told me she spoke to them as a warrior.


    But, I refocused as Jack spoke once more¡­ every word he said putting what we faced into greater and more terrible clarity.


    "So, we continued our investigation and spoke with your sky watchers. I determined that the towns between your capital and the sight would only be spared if your corrupted father was ferried from above. This was a report from last week, to be sent to the capital as priority." Ayah produced a log book. One that had the markings of a sky watch guard and his superior. It described a craft. A boxy, black construction with small, unmoving wings and a head composed of glass. No mention of wyverns or flying horses. A flying Ancient construct. My heart began to pound. The enemy that he had mentioned earlier! "Yes. Someone had access to an Ancient relic of immense power and delivered your father to your capital''s gates as a weapon. It could be the Scholars, but other than them, there''s only one force that comes to mind with experience with this technology¡­ whose upper echelons and brightest were never found."


    I felt the hide of my palms break against my nails, as a growl left my lips.


    The enslavers of my people still lived.


    "The Academy."


    "Yes. Most likely."

 V5: Chapter 5

    V5: Chapter 5


    ¡­


    Interlude: Alistair


    ¡­


    Belford returned within the Ancient vessel. Under normal circumstances, he would return within a day after using it, but the damnable upstart''s transports ensured that he needed to make sure that he was not followed.


    Still, despite all the efforts of the upstart and the Conquerors, Belford returned.


    And, he would not have returned, if he was not successful in his mission.


    The Ancient craft, secret of the Academy for hundreds of years and carefully maintained throughout those centuries, opened its hatch at its rear and the ramp opened. My spymaster came forth, a writhing mass of shadow thanks to his family''s secrets, and he bowed in my presence.


    "The deed is done. The Conquerors'' greater Champion has been infected and deployed to their capital." I had sent him with sixteen skilled warriors. More than half were Conqueror mercenaries. All armed with the finest equipment we could muster. None of them were present. The hold of the transport was covered in the aftermath of battle. Blood, some shards of bone, and scorch marks. "The price was heavy, but the men died holding him for sedation."


    "Their sacrifice will be remembered." I had few assets at my disposal now. To ensure that the rest stayed in line, I needed to be careful in the treatment of those who remained with the Academy. The enemies we faced were many and we had few friends. Even now, we moved in the shadows and in secret as our home was portioned and pillaged by monsters and those who pretend not to be. "Crusher is dead?"


    "In his hands is a weapon of the Ancient''s greatest foes. Masters of flesh and mind and spirit. Even the mage we had present to hold it with magic lost his battle against it. I killed him myself." Belford followed me as I reached the land crawler. We traversed the hidden roads of the Ancients, where many monsters remained. From above we sourced supplies, but down here we searched for power. Power that would return us to the height of our Empire. Belford calmed as we entered my chariot, and his shadows faded. His work took much from him and I did not fault him for his weakness in my presence. His work was next to impossible. "The Conquerors will fall to it. The surrounding nations will find themselves plagued by corruption. As you have planned, we will seize their Citadel in the chaos."


    "Good." I entered the small, cramped room that was deemed my office and Belford followed. Few were allowed in my space, but if I could not trust him then I could trust no other. The small desk that I used jutted from the wall, my books lay beneath a cot that extended from the wall as well. The Ancients had created this metal behemoth for the sake of efficiency. To flee and hide in the underground of the continent, not to house people. "Here. Take your reward."


    With one hand I gave him gold and with the other I bared my wrist and cut my hand.


    He fell to one knee, allowing the heavy fortune to fall, and caught my hand to drink of my blood.


    The shadows he called upon deepened, as I felt my vitality fade, and my life wither away. My bones ached, my strength in my limbs faded, a deep coldness unlike formed in my very self, and my vision blackened at the edges. Thrice I have fed Belford, and each time my life decreased by half of a decade. My father and his father before him only had to rely upon their Belford once in their lives, but I will be doing so many times in the future. All I had left to truly give was my life in exchange for the Academy''s continued existence.


    But for the return of the Academy, I would pay any price.


    Belford finished supping upon my soul and stood stronger than his father or his father''s father. An ancient warning from my lineage came to mind. If they became too strong, if they drank from us too much, then they could rebel and overtake us. I would have to mindful of such things, but according to records that would take more than ten feedings.


    I would perish at eight, and I have already given three.


    "My master, what is your next command?" There was a deeper tenor to his voice. A rumbling that denoted power and strength. I felt weak. Stories and tales from my past came forth. That Belford and his kin were not the Vampires that ruled over the Undead amongst the Guardians, but something more primal and terrifying. Such concerns, however, would have to wait. I had years left to spend and much needed to be done. "Your wish is my command."


    "Taking the Citadel from the Conquerors means nothing if we cannot hold it. We need to bolster our numbers. There are many bandits and petty thugs out there now. Gather them, while I do my own work." I did not sit idle as Belford did his duty. I devoted myself to finding swarms of monsters and their ilk, as well as exits through the underground passageways. The plan was to simply lead the creatures up and out throughout the lands surrounding the Conquerors, which would deter our foes until we assembled a force that can hold against what is to come. "Tell your subordinates to keep an eye on the Citadel. I am sure that upstart will be doing something to try and salvage the situation."


    Belford dipped his head in fealty and acknowledgement of my orders, but paused before he left to do as I asked.


    "Should I make an attempt at killing that boy?"


    I grimaced at the question.


    "No. His plans benefit us too much, and I cannot risk losing you." The upstart destabilized the whole continent and his actions could be said to have directly led to the Academy''s downfall. However, in the end it was the Scholars who felled us when we attempted to take their Citadel, and they were destroyed in turn for their barbaric strategies. No. As inflated the child''s moniker was, I could not deny his efficacy in rulership. The famine has barely mattered due to his plans and actions, the continent was at peace and growing in strength to fight the battles to come, and he looked decades ahead. Felling him would make our prospects worse¡­ and that is if Belford managed to succeed. "Focus on your task. Do as I have bid. If I deem the risk worth the reward, you shall be given the assignment."


    "As you wish."


    And, with those words, Belford faded into the shadows¡­ and I sighed as I noticed his disappearance.


    I needed a contingency plan for him, yet I needed him for even the slightest chance of reviving the Academy.


    Work never ceased, time never abated, and the challenges that I faced continued to stack atop one another.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Still, so long as I breathed, I would not rest until I brought the Academy back to existence.


    No matter the cost.


    ¡­


    Do Americans have a racial bonus towards aviation?


    I''m saying that because I''m still constantly being surprised by how flying shipping containers pulled by winged horses are paying off.


    Should I be giving offerings to the Wright brother or something?


    "Jack, you''re getting distracted. That''s dangerous!" Morgan''s call brought me out of my brief state of fugue. She had to yell at me, since we were flying through the air. Several pilots were too tired to fly properly, so some replacements had to be made during the airlift. Unfortunately, people have seen me pilot one before, so I couldn''t delegate it away. Morgan, meanwhile, replaced the mage that would be casting Float and other spells to keep the shipping container flying behind us. "How far are we?"


    "Nearly there! The landing strip''s right there!" Thankfully, we managed to get a messenger through to the people inside the Citadel. Some keen-eyed observer spotted our man and opened up the side of the Citadel via its control ring, and after that they went ahead and manipulated the structure more to create a landing strip on the side of the massive tower. Yeah. It''s as dangerous to land on as it sounds. "Ayah, need you here for the landing!"


    "On it." Ayah moved from her spot on the ''back'' of the transport section where she was doing all the signaling to the rest of the ones flying behind us. We had a tight window to land, get people aboard, and take off again. 15-minute intervals. We managed via stacking and staggering flights in three lines. We were trying to pull off a Berlin Airlift with flying horses, basically. Anyway, Ayah took over the reigns and the ride smoothed out. Flying was hard. The horses were strong and pulled like crazy on the arms. Landing was a whole different beast entirely. One that I might manage. "We need to keep things clear back there."


    "Yeah, on it." I grunted and got ready to clamber over past the seat. I swallowed the deep feeling of fear in my gut as I saw an endless blue sky all around the top of the shipping-container sized, hollow container pulled by our horses. I knew from experience that it was stable, that there was a bubble protecting it from turbulence and wind. That walking along it was fine and easy, but I still had to grit my teeth and walk to the back and man the signal flags on the back. There were just three. If all there were up, everything went as planned. Two meant slow. One up meant abort. "How much longer do we have!?"


    "Now!" Ayah cried out the hooves of the flying horses hit the runway. Both Morgan and I clambered to pull up the siding of the cargo containers. Ayah stood up from her place at the driver''s position as we slowed down. "Get in! Hurry! Twenty to a transport. Leave everything behind! Go! Go!"


    The landing strip on the side of the Citadel was suddenly filled with the sound of movement, of massive feet moving forward. This cargo container can fit fifty humans squeezed in tightly, but the average Conqueror was larger and heavier. Being bioengineered super soldiers meant a lot of mass in all that dense muscle and near-indestructible bone and redundant organs.


    We could only hope that things didn''t go sour, that they followed directions as they went in, because we couldn''t afford any more losses.


    We''ve already lost five from the three previous trips and this was our last.


    Not just a hundred dead, but also a hundred people we couldn''t get out for each round of return.


    "We''re full! Get ready!" Morgan cried out, and the sidings closed. If the situation were less serious, I''d think the sight of so many massive people stuck in one box would be funny. As it was, I was wondering if they packed themselves in too much and would cause our demise. I did my best to not look at the flying horses, but I heard them from here. A lot of them were going to be crippled by these flights, and it was going to cost a lot to replace them¡­ but we needed these guys evacuated. "I need your aid, Jack!"


    "I know, I know!" I grunted. This was usually beyond my ability. Making a puddle of water or flash of light was my speed. Low level, trash spells. The most I''ve ever carried with Float was the strike team against the Scholars. This was an order of magnitude more heavy. My heart started pumping hard as I concentrated and fed the spell with that ''inner flame'' that magic stemmed from. If normal mages had a bonfire thanks to training, I had a small fireplace''s worth. It''s just my lot in the world to not have much magic, but still¡­ twenty lives, my own, Morgan''s, and Ayah were in my hands, so I pushed through. "Go!"


    I cast it, the transport lifted up, and Ayah cracked the whips.


    Wind blew past us, we were rocked by the sudden burst of speed, while Morgan cast her own set of magics more complex than mine. Mages dedicated their lives to magic. Those who entered this service were trained in casting their spells perfectly¡­ without any pressure, with breaks, and not on the side of a massive tower billowing with wind.


    The teams manning my transports were at their breaking point.


    This was going to be the last trip of the day and the Citadel wasn''t even half empty. Forty thousand Conquerors lived in their capital. The vast majority had evacuated to surrounding areas, while ten thousand took refuge in the Citadel. Twenty Conquerors to a transport, four rounds of flights, just shy of seventy transports pulled as quickly as possible to our location... we were only managing to get little less than five thousand out and we wore ourselves out in the process.


    But I realized that during the first trip and made my peace with it, and so did the Conquerors.


    We took off the short runway with the last batch¡­ the last of the women and children.


    The rest of them?


    Those we couldn''t get out?


    They were going to become part of the army of corrupted that we were going to have to face when we came down on the city in force.


    I looked back as the last set of flights started to fly in, while we rode back to safety encased in Morgan''s arcane protections, which were freshly learned and mastered just hours ago.


    The next time I come back to this city, with my transports, I''ll be burning most of it to the ground with armies following behind.


    Sorry.


    I can''t save you all.


    But I''ll make the bastards who did this pay.

 V5: Chapter 6

    V5: Chapter 6


    ¡­


    The air lift saved all the women and children in the Citadel. We could''ve taken more elderly, but many of them refused to come aboard. Their reasoning was that their lives were played out and it was better to take others in their stead. Meanwhile, many of the male Conquerors who came along had to be forced to do so, and their shame was palpable. If not for the support of their people, if not for their opportunity to kill the people who wronged them, they would''ve been listed as deaths, too.


    Yeah, as usual, the Conquerors were being cool even at the worst of times.


    And, it was the worst as times go.


    After a long sleep to recover, all the information from the region was gathered, and I got a good, long look the situation.


    It''s fucked.


    The Conquerors had invested a lot into their Capital. They were running off of the flat income from a starting Citadel at the start of midgame, and their units were expensive to produce and maintain. The various villages and towns were focused on supporting their Citadel/Capital with food and raw materials and gold, so that they could continue to build it up, reach higher levels of industry, and have as much of their people supported by the Citadel as possible.


    However, with the corruption changed everything, as it took their capital from them, took over their prime Champion, and took out their city guard. In-game, this sort of event would be called imbalanced and unfair. It''s a run-killer, especially with game-based AI in play, and the forums would be lambasting the devs until it was removed. Even AI opponents didn''t deserve this sort of shit happening to them, let alone actual players struggling to catch up and doing everything right like the Conquerors were.


    Seriously, this shit''s not fair and not fun. Only a masochistic idiot would enjoy this sort of scenario happening to them, and only an idiot would want the scenario to stay in the game, even if it''d be funny to see it happen to other people.


    But I''ve complained to myself about the shitty situation long enough.


    It was time to start solving the situation instead.


    Most of my first army was going to take another three months to arrive, but with my territory spread out, I''d adopted a decentralized approach to my second one. While the first was my mailed fist that patrolled each territory in turn to deter people, the second was broken up, set on patrols all over the kingdom, and work as a mobile strike force.


    Essentially, the second army was a sacrificial/holdout force.


    In theory, the rest of them could charge at one another to form an army within a few days of a serious engagement, while the one that gets hit does a fighting retreat. Practically speaking though, even if doesn''t happen, I''m putting them around as bait and waiting for someone to take it, so that I could get the excuse to sucker-punch them. I put the most hot-blooded, young commanders there, barely any aristocracy, and riled them up, so that they weren''t very friendly with the neighbors, too. In the game, the enemy faction would take the opportunity to attack them, then I''d get to play out a defensive war and hit back and take all their shit while in the right.


    Anyway, while the main army was gearing up and the militia/reserves were going to strengthen the border forts, we were getting the second army arriving piecemeal.


    Those bits and pieces coming in were in surprisingly better shape than I thought.


    And, Rita and Ilych arrived with a surprise.


    ¡­


    Just as the reports started coming in that the corrupted entered the Citadel and we were forced to shut it down from outside, with the control ring recovered during the airlift in Conquest''s hands, I''d wanted some good news.


    Good news came in the form of the schizophrenic, nearly-mute murder blender that was Ilych.


    "The winds bid me to bring these."


    "Tell the winds they have my thanks. This is perfect." With my superiority over the air, I naturally gravitated towards dominating the airspace too. That came in the form of the upgrade to flying cavalry via the Thunderlance upgrade, which was available as soon as guns were. With the Citadels unlocking that for us, I went ahead and had the research started, completed, and ordered a production run at the Scholar''s Citadel. I''d intended to unleash the weapon on the Conquerors when they tried to take it by force, so I had them produced there for logistics'' sake. The production run in question wasn''t set to finish for another six months, but that was for a whole company of aerial cavalry for use in a prolonged battle. "These will be essential for damaging the enemy, especially with the magics they are using to dodge attacks."


    The Thunderlance upgrade turned the magical charge of aerial cavalry into a bombing run. Aerial cavalry goes from a cavalry unit that you micromanage charge cooldowns with into units that loiter in the air, dump bombs where you point, and rearm at your HQ, if you bought the Ammo Depot upgrade and set up your supply lines right.


    Every single flying unit will carry tubes filled with chemical propellant used by Ancient weaponry and release them on the enemy, before igniting them with magic. Two of them maxed out the capacity that one flying horse could muster, so they needed reloading in battle, specific upgrades to one''s HQ, and a protected supply line. Essentially, you exchange in-battle management into a proper logistics chain outside of it, and your units get a safer, more effective way of attacking the enemy.


    And, the price of the aerial cavalry unit remains at T1, even though they''re doing T2 damage, so they''re pretty cheap.


    So, in short, the answer to demons that can use magic to warp past attacks is high explosives.


    And, if it doesn''t work, you''re not using enough.


    Rita came forward to deliver her own news.


    "We took the copies of records from all the message posts that we passed. The Guardians are currently engaged, but the Wardens are coming. They promise that their Paladins will be of great aid, or at least administer mercy in such a way that those defiled can be returned."


    "The bodies of Conquerors will not be handed over to others. We welcome their attempts to remedy the taint of corruption, but they will not be given over." That''s a smart call, Conquest. The Wardens of the Caverns can''t usually revive enemy units they''ve killed. There''s a whole questline that gives a Champion the ability to do it, but it''s too much effort for too little payoff. However, a lot of game limitations weren''t present in reality. The Wardens could theoretically scour battlefields clean and just revive loads of people. Lore-wise, all those who return are loyal to the Wardens and their idea of victory, so whoever''s coming back won''t be on your side anymore. "We would say the same to the Guardians, and yourselves, if you intend to use necromancy. The bodies of our people are ours."


    "I''ll keep that in mind, and tell them the same. However, their help is much appreciated, even if they''ll come with the battle already ended." We were breaking out the supplies in Tradestown. The militia was being called up here and in nearby towns to reinforce us. All the transports were being put aside, and the remaining riders were going through a quick retraining process as aerial cavalry, which was made easier by the weapons Ilych brought along. Less chance of them messing up a charge, when all they''ve got to do is swoop in, detach the bombs, and pull up and come back to a depot. "How are your troops, Conquest? My militia forces and my aerial cavalry need to be defended. Can you hold against them with Ilych, Ayah, and Rita''s help?"


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    Conquest paused for a moment before nodding with arms crossed at my words.


    "Aye, with their help, me and my men can hold against the creatures that have taken the faces of my people." This was her specialty, so I trusted in her expertise. Besides, if she fucked up, then it''d be entirely her fault. I''m all for pushing all the responsibility on her. "King of Wisdom, when can we move?"


    "By dawn the next day."


    We''ve got a lot of pikes and a lot of breach-loaded guns in the hands of militia, aerial cavalry, and a frontline composed of Conquerors.


    Around seven thousand combat troops.


    Against five thousand Conquerors with demonic corruption led by Crusher were against us.


    They were strong and had a slew of powers at their command, but we had aerial dominance, explosives, and guns.


    Honestly, it was a much fairer fight than I wanted it to be. I wanted to wait, but if we waited the surrounding settlements of the Conquerors would be put into danger¡­ and the corrupted army might snowball with more troops with each sacked town.


    Time wasn''t on my side, so we had to move quickly with what we had.


    Got I hate missions with time requirements.


    Let me leverage my industry and manpower to just bulldoze challenges, dammit!


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ¡­


    The lands past that of the Ancient''s defenses were unlike anything we''d ever seen before.


    Magic flowed through everything like an ever-present breeze and the skies were constantly filled with glittering sheets of sparkling wonder. fruit-bearing trees were everywhere, as were herds of animals such as deer and horses, but of greater size than we''d ever seen before. What few of our kin that we found lived in straw or mud huts, living as foragers along rivers¡­ completely subservient to demons who acted like gods.


    "Are you sure we can''t do anything, sir?" Wallace asked me. He was a young, new officer filled with life and virtue. One of the finest graduates from the officer''s academy back home. Despite our long expedition, he was clean shaven and his hair was cropped short and close to his skull. Most of the men kept themselves clean whenever possible. We could scarcely afford to be sick. "Those people¡­ they''re going to die if we do nothing."


    "And, those who have entrusted us with so much will perish, if we help them." Again and again, as we travelled through these lands, we saw the same ritual. Mortals such as us, Conquerors, Merchants, Children of the Elm, and all the others, were degraded into subservience and worship by demons living in sprawling cities of stone. Stone cities through which blood ran instead of water. The curse of the Ancients upon them was meant to starve and kill them, but the Demons, even in their degraded state, found another, horrible path. "You''ve seen their cities and their lands. We will be crushed."


    "Yes, sir." Wallace looked as though he bit into the most bitter of fruits, but he nodded and took a deep breath to regain control. We numbered around a thousand able-bodied, well-armed men. More than enough for roaming, large monsters or tribes of lesser creatures, as well as capable of delving into Ancient Ruins still defended against the creatures that had the world in their grip. But no more than that. "I''ll have a course plotted to circumvent the region."


    "Have scouts find a place to rest for a week, as well. I have a feeling that we''re close to our destination." Jack''s instructions for our expedition bordered on prescient. He had told us to avoid all contact with our fellow mortals, to not be swayed by beguiling words of the demons who stumbled upon us, and to forage and explore as much as possible. In doing so, time and time again, our expedition avoided conflict, found ourselves emboldened, and even found weapons from the past. His directives were priceless and I had to take care not follow them like gospel and think for myself. "Look over there."


    Wallace blinked and looked at where I pointed.


    It was a massive, dark forest surrounded by dark clouds, despite the glittering, blue skies that surrounded the rest of the land. Jack had described what we searched for as something that our enemies would avoid. The forest that I pointed out was surrounded by untamed wilderness, many groves, and even small encampments of lesser beasts.


    The Demons and their civilization kept clear of it, with almost a line between their land and that place visible to the naked eye.


    "Ah, I see. It truly is a place that they fear." Wallace whispered, and I nodded. Such were the words that Jack had used in the briefing, before we all soldiered forth into the unknown. His words resonated with the men even though months and months had passed since they last saw him. Truly, his words alone were a weapon that would give most pause. "Commander, if I may, would it not be better to make for that location as soon as possible? The defenses will recognize us and we will rest easier behind them."


    At my height of power and status as a warlord, only Riegert, a Champion, would deign to advise me.


    All others would fear me and simply offer platitudes and never question my commands.


    However, Wallace always made suggestions, always used his mind, and always spoke out for the sake of the troops.


    I didn''t mind in the slightest.


    "Speak with the officers. If the men can do it, we will. Tell them to speak with the truth, rather than their spirit. I don''t want people dying because of foolishness."


    "Yes, commander! Thank you!"


    Wallace left at that and moved to do as I bid


    We operated in the forests as much as possible, in staggered lines, and in cloaks that muddled our outlines into the forests. Our mages erased our presence as much as possible, making it so that not even birds or other creatures would flee from our approach and alert observant hunters. Twenty cells of fifty men in a loose formation, travelling staggered and with such tactics, sounded absurd.


    I wouldn''t have believed it possible in my prime, when I commanded my own warband.


    Yet, here I was, in the land of Demons, undetected by our foes, and approaching our objective: a gift so fiercely defended by the Ancients that their foes were unable to touch it for millennia.


    The soldiers that Jack forged were truly monsters beyond reckoning.

 V5: Chapter 7

    V5: Chapter 7


    ¡­


    I''ll admit it.


    I''m a whore for instant gratification.


    If I want something, and I''ve earned it, then I want to get it within a day at most. Less than 12 hours, if possible. Some people say that same-day delivery is a sign that society has gotten depraved, that it can''t be saved, and that there''s no choice but to burn it all down and start from zero. I disagree. If I have the money and the desire, then I should be able to get what I want in the same hour.


    Nay.


    In the same second that I''ve paid for it.


    In fact, I want whatever I want to be prescient, for the money to just flow out of my pocket, and for the cognitive decision-making process to be taken out of the equation. Just shove whatever it is the algorithm has discerned as what I want down my throat and take the money right out of my bank account. All I want to do is sleep, wake up, work, and everything else to just fall onto my lap without any consequence or ramification or social interactions or active thinking on my part.


    Sadly, in my current state of existence, I was far from that form of living.


    I mean, technically speaking, I was far from that form of living in my previous life, too¡­ but in my previous life I never had to deal with the slow, lumbering speed of an army at march.


    Seriously, even if everyone else is impressed, I''m not at all impressed by the fact that it took a month for me to assemble an army and march it to the Conqueror''s capital.


    ¡­


    In every battle of the game, both sides get what''s called headquarters. At the start of the game, you get some tents, some guards, telescopes, officers, messengers, and runners. All the things you need to command an army from the relative safety and nothing more. If your HQ is taken, and you don''t have a general Champion conferring leadership bonuses who could fight, then the game enters auto-resolve with the odds massively against you.


    Your army''s fighting without executive command, maybe with just some officers on the scene, and you''d be lucky to find your army at a quarter health and with all units intact.


    As the game progresses, getting a unit or a Champion into an HQ gets harder.


    HQs turn into small fortresses built overnight with magic, which can even provide artillery support or shields against long-range bombardment. They can heal your units and increase morale and increase damage depending on who you''ve got in there, and the bonuses they give are amplified by what you''ve invested in. Each army''s HQ can be customized, specializing them in whatever you want, for a price and increase in upkeep cost.


    If you lose the army, you lose the HQ that you''ve built for them, and if you lose the HQ¡­ you may as well lose the army, too.


    And, with the lack of communications systems that would let me coordinate from afar, if I wanted to manage an army¡­ I needed to put my neck on the line.


    Yeah.


    I''m all for instant gratification, until my life''s on the line.


    I''d rather wait and hear about how things played out regarding battles, thanks.


    ¡­


    Thankfully, being demonically addled in the head meant that the corrupted Crusher and his army weren''t about to make us run the gauntlet through the capital. After they subsumed the people left behind fighting in the Citadel, due to our lack of airlift capacity, they started foraging the city for supplies. Meaning that they started harvesting it of the bodies left behind, and started processing the fruits of their labors.


    Demons spread a corrupted realm around them, born from the sacrifices of their followers, the deaths of their enemies, or even their own deaths. According to lore, it was a downgraded version of the airborne particulate that they spread across the planet when shit kicked off. The particulate couldn''t survive, transfer energy and nutrients to the high-spec bodies of the demons, and so they had to evolve and change to creating a living ''carpet'' of their weak, their servants, and their enemies.


    The Demons win once they start capturing souls in that ''carpet,'' after taking enough Citadels to start tinkering with it, and with it at full strength regain their powers before they got fucked hard by the counter attacks. Their victory means everyone not a Demon gets turned into living pieces of furniture that they feed off of, while everyone not furniture turned into docile cattle.


    Needless to say, I wasn''t going to fight them on their home turf and I was going to burn them out of the capital to face us on an open field.


    "We''ll strike at dawn tomorrow morning. With their fleshbed destroyed, they''ll be forced to fight us to make new ones, or kill each other and make a new one. Either works. Hopefully, they choose the latter." I had a smattering of officers flown in to make a command staff. Usually, Riegert and Khanrow would be present in some capacity with their retinue, and they''d command the officers in the tent while I provided advice. The HQ honestly felt empty without them and their staff, but Morgan was providing excellent assistance. "Morgan, do a final check on the heavy infantry. The pikes will be receiving the enemy, and get me a progress update on the shaping procedures we''ve asked the mages for."


    "Already have them. Here are the reports from the officers of the pikemen. All have been blessed appropriately by our mages against disease. The Conqueror''s shamans were very helpful." Morgan''s pretty omnicompetent, so it was only natural that she was capable of handling most of the footwork, checkups, and coordination. I kept them in the back of my mind, of course, but I looked at the bigger picture. "As for the shaping operation, the mounds of dirt have been created, but I''m still not sure how they''ll help. They are easily surmounted by our foes."


    "They''re not physical blockages. That''s what the ditches and cavalry barricades are for." Most of my worries were centered around the Demonic Charge ability and the Flesh Warp that Demonic melee units had. Demons didn''t have much in the way of ranged units, since they were all crazy psychopaths who got off of murder and mutilation with their own hands, so they worked hard to get that. In-game, the Demonic Charge gave them ten percent evasion while charging. Flesh warp just gave them a flat ten percent evasion rate against anything. It''s a bullshit twenty percent reduction in direct damage, which was why I hoped that some earthworks and barricades would help us. If I could shave even ten percent evasion off, that''d be a world of difference. "The dirt mounds will be moved and give us the height advantage for our lines of rifles. They''ll be able to fire over our lines of pike. They''re not archers or crossbows, so the changes are necessary."


    "I see. That makes perfect sense. Thank you for sharing that with me. It''s a fantastic tactic and makes use of a resource that would otherwise simply be wasted with Mages doing nothing." Morgan nodded, not even needing a visualization of my statement. It was good that she didn''t. Ayah was busy making sure that the aerial cavalry was ready for tomorrow. So far, I''d used all my airlift capability for the sake of trade, rescue, or humanitarian efforts like making sure a famine didn''t kill most of the people on the continent. Tomorrow, we couldn''t afford mistakes, since their payloads were far more deadly. "However, have you given my earlier suggestion to place the Conquerors on the frontline some more thought?"


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    "Your concerns ring true. I had Ayah verify and the Conquerors are unhappy with their posting, but we''ve already seen the aftermath of their last encounter with this force. I''m not letting them do it again, even if it means having Rita or Ilych crack heads before the battle." The Conquerors, being honorable, prideful, and respectable people, wanted the vanguard position to regain their lost honor for retreating. They wanted the first shots against the enemy, and the most casualties, too. "If complaints continue, I shall speak to Conquest on the matter, first. Discipline will be ensured, of course."


    I''m forcing them to act in their best capacity: auxiliary cavalry that''ll smash into the enemy once it''s sufficiently bogged down by pike and shot. If there was a part of the line that was going to break, and that was guaranteed since we were fighting against Demonic Conquerors, plenty of them were going to be on standby to patch up any stragglers.


    They''re the steel jaws that''ll force the enemy into the fields of ditches and sharpened log barricades, behind which were going to be lines of pike ten men deep, and behind them were going to be an equal number of high-caliber single-fire rifles. Once the aerial cavalry is all reloaded, they can bomb the enemy from above, and the mages can keep the pressure up. Aerial Cav and mages for DPS, rifles for chip damage, pikes of tanking, and Conquerors for harass.


    No one sane would run into it, but we weren''t giving the corrupted any options.


    Ayah came right on time.


    "Everyone is equipped and ready for tomorrow, my lord."


    "Good, then let''s all get some rest. Tomorrow, we put them to the torch and force the survivors into a vice, but keep scouts out on the surrounding region. I don''t want any surprises."


    "Yes, my lord."


    With that, the most preparation I could manage was done.


    Tomorrow, all I''ll be able to do is commit reserves, order some charges, and maybe call in artillery.


    Damn, I really wished I could micro Ilych around and have my forces shoot at the Demons while they all ran after her.


    Unfortunately, control like that was just beyond me in reality.


    ¡­


    It felt strange to look straight at a battle.


    It was happening, people were going to die by the hundreds if not thousands, and I was seating down with drinks, people muttering around me, and barely armored.


    Well, the people around me weren''t just muttering. Messengers were on standby. Signalers with flags were present and waiting to give directions. Massive horns were present that could be heard through the battlefield to have officers look our way. Maps were laid out on tables, some just sketches of the current battlefield, and our defensive lines.


    I guess, it felt strange that I wasn''t closer to the front line, doing some crazy mission behind enemy lines, or doing something else crazy.


    Morgan tapped me on the shoulder and pointed over at our timetable.


    It was a literal table with a sundial on it and hour glasses in case clouds came overhead.


    Anyway, the sun was just about to rise, and so it was time to poke the bear.


    With explosives.


    "Send the message to begin."


    "Yes, my lord."


    Morgan gave a bow and spoke to one of the messengers attending to her, and she stayed standing beside me as we both looked at the battle from afar. It almost felt like a game. We were far enough, and high enough, that most normal men were like the size of rice grains. Armored, armed rice grains in block formations, but still¡­ grains. At our distance, the earthworks we had made seemed like little bumps on the plains, the trenches seemed like loose lines on the earth, and the wooden barricades looked too few.


    If I angled the camera right in the game, and zoomed out, I''d be able to see things the same way¡­ but this was far from perfect.


    I''d rather see from above, see everything that my troops saw, and be able to mouse-click-and-and-drag the formations into better shape¡­ but that wasn''t happening.


    I''m constrained and limited to an immense degree, but I couldn''t change that fact in the slightest.


    The sight of all the aerial cavalry going off was pretty cinematic, though.


    Four horses to a transport meant that we had plenty to spare. Simple math laid out that seventy transports meant almost three hundred horses. However, we lost a few people during the airlift, and more than a few horses were made lame. The final number of aerial cavalry was two units worth. A hundred to each one with lots of others assigned for recon or messenger duties.


    If I had more explosives, I''d load up whole cargo boxes full of explosives and drop them right on top of the enemy, but I didn''t.


    No.


    The first strike setting off to attack was using a combination.


    The firebombs we developed to raid Scholar lands go first, then the bombs were going to land after them to spread the flaming contents all around.


    So, I watched with all my troops as two hundred flying knights went off to the base of the Conqueror''s Citadel. We were just a few kilometers away from the city, five max, so when they took off it was just minutes before they reached their destination. They were like flies in the distance, but in formation and glittering in the sun thanks to their armor, and we could all see perfectly as they began their dives with their weapons.


    The first unit went for it, hitting the corrupted area surrounding the base of the Citadel. The tactics I gave them were based off of dive bomber tactics from WW2. The initial strategy, and how it worked in the game, was that flying units would glide in, slowing down to properly drop their bombs off, and then lift off after hitting the ground. It was for balance, so that aerial units took some chip damage from melee attacks and didn''t dominate ground battles.


    They didn''t have to be limited in reality.


    They went into steep dives, while still high up. Their projectiles were bomblet shaped and with fins to stabilize, and weighted at the nose. Momentum took care of the rest once they hit the latches that strapped the bombs to the underside of their horse. Then, the horses would flare their wings, catching themselves, and then take off back into the sky and back to base for rearming.


    Practice runs told us that the incendiaries had a ten meter spread, double a hand grenade from back home, while the thunderlances had a about 12 meters or so.


    I thought that those numbers were alright, that they were in line with the game, but as I watched¡­ I came to a realization.


    The power of firebombs and explosives were limited in the game.


    Fires went out within seconds.


    Explosives chipped at health points, rather than hit bodies or buildings.


    As explosions resounded, as my flying forces returned unscathed, and as an inferno began to billow at the base of the Conqueror''s Citadel, I came to a simple realization.


    Aerial units, just like in real life, were absurdly broken.


    And, I had to make use of them as much as possibly could.

 V5: Chapter 8

    V5: Chapter 8


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    Our home burned to the sound of distant thunder.


    The King of Wisdom has shown us his hand.


    No.


    All this time, he bared the cards face up, as to prevent all other nations from playing against him. Ever since he unveiled his wonderous creation, all scholars and generals of all nations knew that what we now looked upon was possible, yet to look upon it was humbling.


    Even if the defenses we set were present, could we have stopped this siege? This endless tide of flame and explosives from the skies? The Descendants rode upon their winged horses and attacked with impunity. Mimicking the formations of migrating birds high in the sky, they struck with steep dives almost too fast to react to, and loosed their payloads with great accuracy, before rising once more into the sky.


    They did this thrice, bombing the base of our Citadel, until they could no longer. They could no longer, because their assault created an inferno. A crown of writhing flame formed at the crown jewel of our capital, staining the pure white Citadel a dark black, as everything at its base burned. The walls of flame were high, aided by the sharp winds that billowed across the plain, and even from a distance I could see them leaking into the city beyond the Citadel walls.


    Though the King of Wisdom was aiding us, I could only see our people suffering the same fate, if we chose to oppose him.


    Then, suddenly, a horn resounded from afar.


    I looked at his command center and saw three yellow banners being swung.


    Yellow meant an approaching enemy force.


    Three banners meant three groups of a thousand each.


    There had been five thousand left behind in the Citadel due to our weakness. All of whom suffered the cruel fate of being corrupted and killed by those who were infected with demonic corruption. We expected to receive them all, to lay down our lives, so that we can grant them honorable deaths. Yet, with but the blast of battle horns and the waving of three banners, the King of Wisdom proclaimed his actions already killed two thousand of those who we couldn''t save.


    We have yet to lift a finger, yet the battle was nearly halfway done.


    "Chieftain?" Breaker spoke and drew me from my thoughts. His eyes were on the battlefield ahead. Scarred from his battles, but still whole, he looked across the plains towards the enemy force composed of those we couldn''t save. Those we had to kill, because of our weakness. I locked those thoughts away with a breath to refocus on the battle at hand. I followed his gaze, and felt a leaden ball fall deep into my gut. "Your father is at the head of the army."


    "Of course, such an assault couldn''t have killed him." I regathered my thoughts and focused. I laid my eyes upon the battlefield prepared by the King of Wisdom. It was immaculate. Hazards that would slow and impede, set before lines and lines of hardened, professional soldiers armed with fearsome weapons. One alone could not harm us or fell us, but they derived strength from more than just numbers. They stood shoulder to shoulder unflinching, each one ready to fight beside one another, and when the warnings came, the pikes descended. Walls of sharpened steel, held by steadfast soldiers, in dug-in positions, with mages, rifles, and aerial cavalry at their back. "But that will."


    "If we do nothing, we will be shamed forever." Breaker said.


    "Honor is a luxury. In this case, a luxury that the King of Wisdom has bought for you. Will you accept it?" Breaker''s brow furrowed at my words, but soon his jaw tightened at the realization. "Those thoughts you have now, of honor and vindication, are only possible through him. Will you owe him that, as well as your life?"


    "No." Breaker spoke with a low rumble, and my words were heard by the remains of my force, and those who answered the call. Half were with me on the right flank and the other half was on the left flank. Our task was simple: ensure the enemy could not escape the jaws of death that awaited them. "I will not."


    "Good." I looked forward, at the coming mass of corrupted led by my father. Strengthening my eyes, I could see them clearly, despite being so far away. I drew my weapon on instinct. "Stay fast, until I give the word."


    The people who I once called my own were now malformed abominations. From their bodies came forth sharpened bones. They bled wherever they tread, leaving a sickly sludge of scarlet that corrupted the soil and killed plant life. They charged across the plains, from the city and the inferno that was blackening the Citadel at their backs, without any sign of tiredness, a stampede of mutilated flesh. Many sported the bones of other Conquerors as armor, had weapons stolen from soldiers in their hands, and some had torn off their hands entirely and their bones fused into horrific blades they chipped into existence.


    As they charged, their figures blurred and warped, as their innate magic seemed to enhance their howling run at us. I recalled how difficult they were to hit, how to evade so many attacks sent against them, and I idly wondered how their power would fare against what was arranged against them¡­ then, I received my answer.


    I knew what was coming before it happened, as the mass reached the first range marker.


    The hundreds of mages who maintained spells to allow hundreds of transports to stay aloft had been resting for the past several days. Besides moving earth and casting fires to illuminate the camp, they did little else but rest and march with us. Now, after days of rest, they were behind a sturdy wall, behind a whole army, behind innumerable defenses, and given so much time to prepare the spells that Jack wanted.


    The first that was cast was a great deluge of mud. It was a spell taught to amateur mages the difference between substances between learning to create earth or water, before more esoteric powers such as lightning and flame. Many forgot the spell, marking it a mere fragment of a memory for many mages, but Jack had not forgotten.


    He had it cast, pre-ranged, as soon as our enemy reached the first marker.


    The whole enemy army was, thus, carpeted in a blackish mixture of gritty dirt mixed with water. What did not hit the enemy fell onto the ground, and in their charge, they themselves furthered the King of Wisdom''s plans: they churned the soil, they threw around the mud, and they embroiled themselves in it. No amount of innate magic, or even technique, could stop what happened next: the mass slowed down. Some tripped and fell, others roared in rage as they were forced to slow, and many others sank into the sludge, their weight simply too heavy, as the spell also softened the hard ground beneath and invigorated it with water.


    In the meetings during our trip here, as he constructed his maze of death, he''d described it such:


    "Best to try and slow them down as much as possible, right? We get more if we do it right at the start, too."


    I would deem the idea elegant in its design, if not for the sobering sight of three thousand Conquerors, empowered by demonic corruption, finding their charge completely ruined in an instant.


    Making them prey for his next attack.


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    Once again, his words resounded in my ears, while in my mind''s eye I watched him smash a fist lightly against his open palm while directing his gaze at our simulated battle.


    "Then, we break them up into more manageable pieces. Make sure they don''t hit us all at once."


    Many preferred flame and lightning for mages to attack from afar. Flame would''ve dried the mud. Lightning would''ve faced insulation from the sludge, as well. Even wind would''ve undone the slowing effect of the attack. Floods would''ve washed the quagmire away as well, thus there was only one option left: earth.


    With another general, with another leader, it would''ve boulders hurled at the enemy.


    Nonesuch was the King of Wisdom''s desire.


    Spinning spikes of earth spun and surged forward through the air and smashed into the slowed, haphazard charge. He bid his mages to make them brittle, so that they could not be used as cover upon landing, but there was another effect. The torrent of earthen spikes shattered upon colliding without anything, sending shards hurtling in every direction. They were fragile things, breaking apart against even bodies, but that just made them more deadly. Shards flew in every direction, like broken pottery amplified to the greatest of extremes, and their impacts scattered the enemy while sending innumerable shards upon them.


    How many armies would''ve broken with just those two attacks alone?


    Could I have led a force against such an attack?


    If I had the right shamans, if I did not allow him to prepare, if I did everything in my power, then I could''ve avoided those two attacks¡­ then what of the rest?


    The third and last brigade of mages attacked with a storm of dust for a brief, but terrifying moment. The whole enemy army was engulfed by flensing winds carrying abrasive particulate. Particulate that Jack had a singular hope for:


    "Then, once they''re slowed and shocked, we''ll blind them and rid them of as much of their senses as possible. Permanently, hopefully."


    He aimed at their eyes, ears, and noses with this final barrage. He hoped skin would tear off, eyes would burst, throats would be scoured, and ears filled with sand and dust. The sandstorm whirled and spun around the enemy force, swallowing them whole, until suddenly fading away and falling into the sludge¡­ which it had spun and thrown around and about the enemy army alongside all the shards of earth.


    Thus, the terrifying force that I had looked upon emerged changed because of the King of Wisdom''s orchestrations. I could see no sign of burning blood or self-mutilated injuries. The horrific bone weapons were slathered in in mud, and many who spilled their own entrails or weakened themselves to bleed more were dead. Some who had slipped into the mud were felled by their own people, crushed underfoot in their desperate rush forward.


    The mass of death rushing towards us, that shook my heart and that of many others, looked like monsters still¡­ but mindless, unthinking, and feral monsters that lived in mud huts and caves at the mercy of civilization.


    Ah.


    That''s what meant with final words in our last meeting last night with all the others:


    "Once they''re not so scary anymore, we''ll kill them all."


    I had thought that he aimed to weaken them, thus making them less ''scary.''


    When, in fact, he truly meant what he said.


    The enemy reaching for us now was no longer to be feared.


    It was to be pitied, and put down with the last dregs of dignity it had left.


    As that thought occurred to me, the first of the struggling mass reached the first ditches, the first sets of anti-cavalry barricades, and entered the range of hundreds of rifles layered upon a hillside all directed at them.


    As the first bullets hurtled forward, I looked at the command post, and I already knew what command we would be given.


    A golden banner swung in the air, one that I had no hope for, until I witnessed the start of the battle.


    Jack''s words, once again, reached me despite being so far:


    "This one means victory is likely, and to pursue secondary objectives." He looked at me as he held the golden banner, shimmering in even dim torchlight. "For you, that means capture your father, or whatever''s left of him, alive along with anyone else¡­ so that we can try to save them."


    I had let that hope die in my heart when I first faced my father, but now it was rekindled in full.


    "All men, with me! Ready the chains! Ready the bindings! Shamans be ready for capture!" I roared as a flame came to life within my chest, as my hearts burst into life, and as a darkness in the corners of my vision suddenly faded. Instantly, upon seeing that golden banner, I felt alive once again. I felt as though there was some victory to be grasped, rather than a prolonged defeat. I can save my father, or at least try! "We have been shamed once already! Shall be shamed once more!?"


    The answer to my question was a resounding roar of refusal, drowning out even the constant crack of rifle fire from the King of Wisdom''s troops.


    From the tops of the mounds, I saw that his Champions were moving forward. The Sword of Wisdom flanked by Rita and Ayah burst forth, and the pikemen began to march forward with their forest of steel moving with them. Behind them the mages took to the top crest of the mounds and began to reign magic upon targets of their own volition, and behind them still¡­ aerial cavalry was rising up.


    The enemy was still dangerous, many of his army will die, but less than if we do not capitalize on this opportunity.


    "Go! Go now! Run! Charge! Onward!" I screamed, I yelled, and I forced my lungs issue commands even with most limited of air within them. I heard Breaker and my remaining officers yell the same, and I began to chant my magics. I lightened their feet, strengthened their bodies, and granted them all the protections I could, as we charged ahead, as our feet cracked dry soil, and as dust arose from around us. "Ready weapons!"


    I blessed their weapons with lightning, their armor with winds that would divert blows, and even as my reserves depleted¡­ I empowered myself for battle, too.


    I will live.


    I won''t die here.


    I heard a roar building with my troops, as we charged together, each one resounded with hundreds of voices as we ran headlong into battle together.


    "For Conquest!"


    We ran and we charged, until finally I saw the first of my foes, of those who I failed, with all that stood by me charging alongside me.


    At their front, the King of Wisdom''s pikes, shot, artillery, and Champions were grinding them down.


    "For Crusher!"


    At their back, they were being bombarded from the skies with near impunity.


    "For the Deliverer!"


    And, finally, from both sides my people were charging in to meet one another right in the middle of the battlefield.


    "For the Conquerors!"


    A face from my people came into view, with eyes filled with madness and hate, covered in blood, muck, and wounds.


    A face that should''ve stopped me as it did in all my nightmares since my defeat.


    Instead, I clenched my free hand into a fist and smashed it into the man''s face.


    This day¡­ we will save all who we can.

 V5: Chapter 9

    <div>


    <div>


    ¡­


    The best opponent is one that''s been fucked over so hard before the fight that it would take a miracle for them to win.


    Sure, if you have the technological, logistical, and economic advantages of a superpower, you can afford to just attack until the enemy dies. That''s a benefit of being the big kid on the block with the best toys. Granted, everyone''s going to come for your ass the moment you show weakness, but if you''re strong enough that''ll just be a good reason for you to fight back with justice and honor on your side.


    But, in the end, I wasn''t close to having enough air power to make my enemies fear clear skies.


    So, I had to be creative.


    Some may say that creativity during conflict can be considered war crimes, but I come from a nation that uses combat bulldozers to bury enemy combatants in their own trenches.


    It''s in my blood to be creative when it comes to conflict.


    Having a thorough knowledge of what works in combat in this reality helps, as well. While it''s terrible that the effects of the weapons and tactic aren''t accurate, such as the bombs and incendiary weapons working far better than anticipated, the fact that they existed helped a lot. Will I need to experiment and figure out just how powerful/how weak everything I wanted to use was? Absolutely, I needed to know as much as possible about my tools as possible.


    However, I could still make use of them in combat with the knowledge that they worked in the ''simulations'' that I played through in my original life.


    Case in point: the shit-creek opening with spicy rifles.


    SOWSR for short.


    Don''t ask me where the c went.


    It''s the internet.


    Anyway, I didn''t make it. I completely stole it along with thousands of others. Whoever made it up is uncredited and will die unknown in the winter with an empty stomach. Without a doubt, it''s the best opening for the human faction in the later stages of the early game.


    Set up the battlefield with trenches and barricades if you''ve got the money and the right techs. Let the enemy charge into medium range, since long range accuracy is garbage in the early game. Hit them with the slow, the blind, and then stun with your utility mages, then lay into them with full volleys of all your rifles at medium range. Tarpit them with heavy infantry with pikes, hit them from the flanks with auxiliaries, and use aerial cavalry to cut off their escape. Once the enemy morale starts to flounder, and your debuffs might start hitting your units, you set the mages as ranged instead of artillery, focus on micro-ing your cavalry, and kill the enemy''s Champions with your own.


    And, of course, keeping reserves close to the HQ so some cheeky enemy Champion won''t kill you.


    There were casualties and deaths from the battle, that was going to happen without a doubt, but the less that there were the better.


    I needed these people, and they put their trust in me, so I was going to do right by them.


    No one is dying here without a reason, and none them will be forgotten.


    "The Conquerors have hit the sides and they''re not going to stop until they hit the middle." I put my people''s attention on those two locations by pointing there. The headquarters was in a constant state of movement. Small reports were being tabulated at the ''in'' section of the tent, while the ''out'' section was rapidly conveying orders. I headed to the ''out'' section, coordinating the signaling and messenger corps, with officers of the units fighting below. They kept an eye on their people, took in reports of casualties and deaths, and gave their people on the ground information tow work with. I focused on the whole battlefield. "The center looks thicker than they might be able to deal with. Tell the pikes to make an orderly retreat. Rifles and mages focus on giving them cover."


    I chorus of voices resounded at my back.


    If this were in the game, it would be simpler. A hotkey click and a drag move back for my units. The models in the screen will move according to my commands instantly. I had a decent enough rig, and the game wasn''t that hard on the GPU unless you loaded it up with shaders and other mods, so I was used to instant responses. Unfortunately, in this case, there was severe input lag, so I had to give out orders predicting what would happen, rather than what was happening.


    The Conquerors were hitting the body of the infested , and it didn''t look like they had enough to meet and split the enemy army in half. Therefore, I had to give the order to pull my frontline back and give them covering fire to thin out the enemy center now. If I had instant responses with my troops, I could do better. Stutter the retreat, have the pike switch to wedge formations, land mage artillery shots on the enemy without fearing for friendly fire, and direct rifle volleys where they were needed.


    I couldn''t do any of that.


    All I could do what try and read the flow of battle, put people in the right places at the right time, and trust in their training and discipline.


    Needless to say, the lack of control was making me feel sick, especially since the lack of damage meant the battle would go on for longer, and that meant more deaths and casualties.


    I felt a hand on my shoulder.


    "My lord, you''ve been at this since the start of the battle. Perhaps, you should rest for one? Eat, as well?" Morgan was a bit different. I couldn''t put my finger on it. She acted the same way, like a silly goof with massive glasses and a giant coat, like she wasn''t the final boss. However, there was a bit of difference to her since we''d worked for the airlift. Maybe, she thought I was a good enough boss to tolerate and keep around, until her inevitable betrayal? "I stay in your place."


    I was tempted, but decided against it.


    "I can do at least this much, Morgan. In fact, I''d send you down there to help and the fight more quickly, if I didn''t need a guard." I wanted to use my reserves. I wanted to send Morgan down there. They''d speed this battle up quickly, and the faster it was over, the less of my people would be hurt. However, I needed this HQ protected. It wasn''t worth the risk of losing and dying, I knew that, but I still wanted to do it. The faster you kill the enemy, the more of your people that you retain, therefore unused DPS is a way of actively hurting yourself. "If you''re that worried, call on a servant to bring me food here. I''ll be staying."


    "¡­Yes, my lord." Morgan bowed lightly and moved away to do just that. Moments later, she was hovering over my shoulder. "How about giving me half the battlefield to look over?"


    Easy question to answer.


    "You''ll get your chance to lead battles, but not now." If the stakes were less high, I''d be all for giving Morgan a shot. That''s how she''ll get experience, learn, and grow stronger. While I couldn''t ignore the fact that making stronger was bad, I couldn''t ignore the fact that I''ll need more¡­ everything on my side. "Observe, watch, and prepare to swap with Ayah when she returns."


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "I understand, my lord." Morgan''s reply was terse, but nothing came after it, so I just focused on the battle.


    The order I''d given had just taken effect, my pikes were kiting the enemy back, staying in contact with them, but spreading the frontline out. Training and good officers kept the mass of armor and long pointy sticks together, while the enemy surged after them. The supporting fire from the mages and rifles came into effect as I''d asked, and they gained some breathing room for their maneuver.


    Meanwhile, bombs kept dropping on the enemy''s rear, their center was getting sandwiched by Conquerors, and my Champions funneled them into the meat grinder.


    But I couldn''t look away.


    If I could give one more order, if I could see one more opportunity to capitalize on and this even a minute faster, then I would.


    This fight, as well as it was going, was something I already personally counted as a loss.


    Yeah.


    After this, it''s time to spy on everyone, friend or foe, influence everything and everyone that I can, and use every underhanded trick in the book.


    As the saying goes, every battle avoided is a battle won.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    The winds howled across the plains, yet the screams of men and the roaring of beasts triumphed over nature.


    My bowstring bit into my fingers, having worn away my gloves, as I place two shots into the skull of a Conqueror turned into a demon. It lunged at me with a mouth full of blood and bile, both burning in contact with the air. All its size and mass mattered little, even whilst doggedly improved by the corruption that pervaded its body, as my arrows sank into its skull and burst out the other side.


    One felled, yet hundreds more awaited.


    No sooner did I kill the creature did I find myself confronted by another, and I drew my knives ready to cut apart its legs, stride up its back, and slice through its spine.


    Instead, the creature, with its arms reared back to thrust at me with bones turned into weapons, the creature splits apart.


    Ilych was revealed by the bifurcated halves falling away from one another.


    Our gazes met and she spoke to me a moment later, and she offered me a hand, her black plate covered in gore and bile. The Ancient-forged armor refused to imbibe the corrupted creatures'' blood, despite the power it promised.


    I ran at Ilych, readying arrows as I did, and she readied herself by crouching and coiling against the ground like a spring.


    Which she exactly intended to be.


    I reached her, planted my foot firmly on her armored palm, and a moment later she threw me upward into the air, whilst I leapt from her palm with all the force I could muster to go higher, faster.


    I looked in every direction as I flowed into the air, willing air to catch me and hasten my ascent, while sharpening my mind and my eyes to see everything.


    The front line was holding, but at a grave cost. Fathers, sons, and brothers of the villages that relied upon us lay dead, their scarlet blood mixing with the burnt, blackened, and brackish blood. The bodies felled demons were everywhere, burning and hazardous even in death. Even so high up, the scent of burnt flesh, viscera, and grime reached me. Down there, soldiers could choke on the festering scent, yet still¡­ the front held. Soldiers armed simply with long pikes, their comrades, and tough armor held back the creatures of legend, while at their back bullets and arcane might felled enemy after enemy.


    The rear of the demonic army was completely aflame. An inferno formed upon the dry plains outside of the Conqueror''s capital. The tail of the demonic force had been the main focus of the aerial cavalry since the start. They rained explosives upon the enemy with gusto, the bombs containing product of alchemical secrets once known only by the Scholars of the Skies, gouged the earth with every explosion and ripped apart Conquerors with direct hits, while incendiary bombs set them alight.


    They chased down all that tried to leave to corrupt and unmake another place with their their power.


    Finally, there was the center, where Conquest searched for redemption.


    There. the uncorrupted clashed against the defiled. Lightning suffused the weapons of those that crashed against their former brothers, mentors, and elders. Their forms were mostly unarmored, but their wounds healed as their shamans expended themselves, and even barriers of wind covered their bodies. Those whose weapons broke brought their fellows to heel, binding them in chains composed by magic, even if it meant risking their lives.


    They fought to save their people, and as I crested the apex of my jump and readied my arrows, I saw it.


    The duel between Crusher and Conquest.


    One corrupted by demonic forces and wielding a sword that overtook his entire right arm and turned it into a sinister limb covered in ebony scales and golden eyes.


    The other corrupted by redemption.


    They clashed at the very center of the battle. The weapon of the Deliverer in Conquest''s hands, wreathed in lightning, as it coursed into her father. Such was the strength of their weapons clashing against one another that those not amongst the ranks of Champions were thrown away, unable to even stand in their presence. Those that tried to help either were cut down or knocked unconscious by movements, each one made as an afterthought.


    The ground at the feat was torn asunder, gouges upon the earth either coursing with lightning or stained red and beginning to ignite into flames that will endlessly burn.


    Their contest alone shaped the world around them, dictating that the battle would be decided by the victor, and so they were both worthy of the name Champion.


    As was I.


    I pulled back my bowstring with a movement that was as natural to me as breathing, and the rest of the world faded away. Neither the heavens and their secrets, nor the earth and its turmoil, mattered to me. All that did was my target, Crusher, and the arrows that I had kept safe in my quiver. It hurt to hold, so brilliant it was with life and blessings that I my very nature rebelled against it, but I disregarded my pain.


    For a brief moment, I was no longer Rita, but the arrow set to be loosed.


    Nothing but the arrow and its target existed.


    All else was darkness.


    And, even the arrow and the target disappeared, as I willed into being the path to connect two points in space and time with a single action.


    I let the arrow go, but even before I did, I knew that it would strike true as I fell back down to the world before.


    My king bid me to save someone he called friend, and so I did all that I could.


    </article>

 V5: Chapter 10

    V5: Chapter 10


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    The creature controlling my father¡¯s body was cruel and malicious.


    With a bestial roar, it swung its demonic blade my way. The arm that held it was covered in layered plates the color of dried blood. Blood dripped from innumerable, self-inflicted channels upon its skin. It removed its eyelids, its cheeks, and its nose. Tattered skin and muscle hung like a beard from my father¡¯s face, while the smiling smile of a skull bore down upon me. Above that horrible smile were unblinking, wide eyes filled with malice.


    I evaded the strike, letting it flow just past me as I swiveled my body to make it parallel with the descending blade.


    From the surface of the blade suddenly came a deluge of needles, directed by the numerous eyes growing on its surface, which were bright yellow and filled with hunger.


    The needles were swept aside by my defenses, and once more I struck against the creature holding my father¡¯s body hostage.


    My blade struck true, scoring a deep wound at the same spot I hit him last: where his demonic arm met with the rest of his body.


    I needed to tear it off of him, but the creature knew that.


    ¡°Ha-ha! Are you trying to save me, daughter!? I¡¯m flattered¡­ but if you want to save me, you need only close your eyes and let me kill you!¡± He ripped away from me and roared. From his back came forth tendrils of blackened flesh, which surged at me like spears. I cut them apart, and their insides were hollow, but still they remained hard to cut through. ¡°Die for me! Die for those who truly own this world!¡±


    My father would never speak this much in battle, but still I saw fragments of him in the creature¡¯s movements.


    How he raised his elbow just a bit higher than he should when striking with a weapon.


    How his brow furrowed when he lined up a thrust with his blade.


    How a snarl flitted across his face as he readied his spare hand with magic to attack from point blank.


    My father was right here in front of me, while a monster was using and lacerating his body, and giving everything else up to protect itself.


    I can defeat my father, but I lacked the strength to save him. The more that we fought, the more that I tried to remove the corrupted arm and weapon from his body, the more I realized the truth. It was simply beyond my ability. I used too much power to empower my warriors, I lacked the skill that it would take to overwhelm my father, and the demonic limbs and attacks kept me on the defensive.


    If I diverted his blade, spikes would fire upon me and intercept my riposte.


    Striking at him with a closed fist enhanced nearly resulted in me losing my arm.


    Without magic, without my focus on healing myself and never falling, I would be dead a dozen times over as I had to set aflame any wound I took from him.


    I can kill him.


    I can destroy this beast.


    But I couldn¡¯t save my father¡­ not without risking everything, or perhaps even dying in the process.


    As that thought thundered in my mind, as I diverted blows that gouged great furrows onto the ground around me, the moment came.


    The moment that I knew would come.


    The moment when the King of Wisdom would intercede in order to tip the scales in the direction he favored.


    It was an arrow that broke through the barriers of wind and flame that coiled and spun around us.


    It was an arrow that I barely noticed until it was in the corner of my vision, despite my senses being sharpened to the point where I could sense the battle around me in near-perfect detail.


    It was an arrow suffused with magics against curses and disease, as well as magics to heal and mend wounds.


    An arrow fired perfectly through the entire battlefield, into my father¡¯s right shoulder, thorough his heart, out of his chest, then finally into the armored hand that held the demonic sword. At once, the magics laden upon it were imparted. The deep furrows of ritualistic wounds filled in and became normal flesh, the flesh hanging off his jaws fell away and regrew anew upon his face, along with his nose and the lids of his eyes. The black tendrils that surged from his back wilted and crumbled away, while the armor around his corrupted arm faded.


    However, most importantly of all, for a fraction of a second his eyes regained their normal, bright blue hue¡­ and he was able to bare his arm for me to cut, while the blade grew a mouth and began to scream and scream.


    I did not hesitate.


    With a cry, while empowering myself, and while infusing the Deliverer¡¯s blade with so much lightning that it began to crack and glow white-hot¡­ I cut through my father¡¯s demon-infested arm and severed it completely from him.


    Despite being an instant, it felt like an eternity as I watched my father¡¯s corrupted arm surge away from his body, tendrils emitting from the limb to try to return to him. I had committed too much, my blade shattered and breaking apart from my swing.


    Despite everything, was I simply fated to lose my father to this malign curse?


    That question was answered by a single phrase.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°No longer, foul beast.¡± My father¡¯s voice. Not the malign and corrupted insanity that I heard earlier, left my father¡¯s body. With his remaining hand, he called upon lightning and wind as he always did, as I wished I could. An axe of pure lightning, shaped by invisible winds, formed in his hand, and with that weapon he burned and smashed apart his former limb.


    Then, before me, he stood tall, with eyes filled with regret and missing an arm¡­ but it was him and not another.


    The demonic blade, scoured of all flesh, lay in the destroyed ground for but a moment before with a grunt he sealed it in stone that erupted from the rock with a gesture of his remaining hand.


    Then, he offered me that same hand.


    ¡°There will be time for talking later. There are more of our people who need saving.¡± I wondered if I was dreaming, as I took his hand. However, as soon as I did, I felt it. The weakness and the price of his possession. His power was spent, perhaps forever, even if he retained his body the vessel he forged his entire life was broken. He would live, but today¡­ today will be the last day he could call himself a Champion. Without a shred of hesitation, he wreathed himself in and armor of storms, called a weapon forth in his remaining hand, and looked me in the eyes as I drew my own weapon. ¡°You did well, daughter.¡±


    Those words threatened to break apart my composure, but I held fast.


    Father was right.


    There still remained a battle to be won.


    And, with his return, there was truly a victory ahead and not just one filled with ash and regret.


    ¡­


    Right.


    No point in hiding it.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, I did not believe that it would work.¡± Crusher sat across from me in all his usual glory sans an arm and with at least a kilometer of bandages wrapping up his body. His regeneration was shot, so his whole stint of charging into battle covered in lightning armor hadn¡¯t been the best of ideas. ¡°Good to see that it did, even if it did come at a cost.¡±


    ¡°I awakened from a nightmare, given all my power and might for one last battle, and then the rest of my life. No one would flinch at paying such a price.¡± Crusher turned my way. The battle winded down fast after the Demonic weapon was removed from Crusher. The enemy started going unconscious or were immensely weakened. It took a while to get people to stop firing and attacking, getting a lot of people killed, but I gave the order to stop as soon as I saw what happened. They did the best they could. ¡°I owe you my life. All of us who survived this day do.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have your chance to pay me back. That thing that took you over has plenty of friends, and they¡¯re coming. We have a half a decade at most.¡± It wasn¡¯t looking good. A lot of the established military of the Conquerors died here. If this were the game, it¡¯d be a few turns and the army would be replenished. Rookies, but upgrades via research upped stats just fine, and you can farm mobs for experience. ¡°I¡¯d prefer you pay me back in full, but I won¡¯t mind taking in installments. A few soldiers here. Some warriors there. You know.¡±


    ¡°You have us in a vice. Your true army marches here now. The strongest of your Champions are unspent, while we are struggling to stand. You hold three Citadels, one you swore to return to us, yet we don¡¯t have the strength to keep it¡­ let alone take it.¡± Crusher usually didn¡¯t speak this much. I had to wonder what he was getting at. He turned my way. All over his body were ritualistic scars from where he¡¯d been forced to bleed, one of his massive arms was missing, and over his heart from an entry wound on his shoulder was a pure white scar from the passing of the blessed arrow. Sick skin, honestly, would use. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t live up to your name, if you did not take this opportunity to make the Conquerors yours.¡±


    ¡°If it would take bloodshed, violence, and putting you all under a yoke to do so, then I¡¯d gladly be called the greatest fool of all for ignoring the opportunity.¡± Crusher took a seat across from me. The bench we¡¯d put together on the fly barely held him. Morgan watched him over my shoulder. I was forgetting she was there more and more often. It¡¯s honestly scary how skilled at concealing herself now. ¡°Crusher, I know your people hold much hate against the Academy and the Descendants.  But I am not those men. I was born into slavery, and only luck gave me this position. I wouldn¡¯t do such a thing.¡±


    ¡°Then, why did you come to our aid?¡±


    ¡°I came here to help a strong trading partner and someone I hoped to make an ally. Oh, and stop you from making poor decisions that¡¯ll get you killed. I¡¯d rather do that myself, if I can¡¯t convince you otherwise.¡±


    ¡°Hm. I would almost prefer your armies besieging us, you tyrant.¡± Crusher chuckled and reached for the pitcher of water between the two of us. He did so with his missing right arm and grimaced, before using his left. Morgan, stop being so testy. The guy¡¯s not that dangerous anymore. ¡°Then, I believe that the path forward should be as the Deliverer envisioned. A duel to decide the fate of our nation. Your champion against our finest. The winner takes everything.¡±


    It was a good offer, but¡­


    ¡°I would¡¯ve had no problem having the Deliverer die in the Kingslaying Rite, but the Conquerors need you and your daughter now, and you two are the only ones who can keep them together.¡± As much as I liked the guy, and appreciated the fact that he was alive, I would have him commit death via Ilych or Rita or Morgan without a second thought, if the negatives didn¡¯t outweigh the positives. ¡°Too many of your nobility have died. The two of you are needed. The political force and influence needed to push that Rite through for everyone to believe is just gone.¡±


    Many of the traditionalists, Warhawks, and established elders of the Conquest were just dead. That wasn¡¯t just a massive amount of culture and experience lost, it was the people with power and influence that the Deliverer trusted to carry his will after he died in the Kingslaying Rite. Tradition is just a word. It takes people to believe in it, and act on it, for it to have meaning.


    Again, Crusher snorted derisively and shook his head.


    ¡°So, this is how you are when you are in the position of true strength. You stride upon the finest of paths, regardless of the concerns of others.¡± Crusher hit the nail on the head, and I didn¡¯t hesitate to nod.


    ¡°I put the work in. I paid the price. I lost good, honest men, treasure, transports, and more.¡± I leaned back and extended my hands outward. In my attempt to look arrogant, Crusher lightly laughed. ¡°I want it all, Crusher. Not just your people becoming part of mine. I want your people, with all their power and might, as my citizens, as my soldiers, and as my Champions.¡±


    ¡°And, you cannot have that, unless we walk the path you have chosen.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± I cast my gaze outside. The command tent was mostly empty now. People were taking a break. Outside, on the burning battlefield filled with corpses, soldiers were guiding carts pulled by donkeys to take the dead away. The ground was a mess of blood, mud, and bodies. Trenches were being filled up with dirt, barricades were being broken apart, and the stench of death drifted towards us. In the distance, the Conqueror¡¯s blackened tower cast a shadow upon their empty capital. ¡°What do you think, Crusher? How do you feel about uniting our people, while your people stay whole and hale¡­ for the most part ¡±?


    Casualty reports were coming in. 1 in 2 of the pikemen were either injured or dead or dying. That¡¯s 1,500 casualties. Maybe half were going to come back in full condition with serious stress. The other half were¡­ people who could¡¯ve paid taxes, worked, and done all sorts of other things besides die. Hell, they probably would¡¯ve had kids, who would¡¯ve done the same decades in the future, and that was gone too.


    A damn shame.


    War¡¯s upfront cost is eye-watering, but the cost in terms of future potential was downright tragic.


    With that in mind, I wasn¡¯t at all hesitant about securing everything I could, regardless if I looked like the bad guy.


    I didn¡¯t have to worry about it, though.


    Crusher saw things the same way.


    ¡°I will speak with my daughter. We will ally permanently with you. The specifics will be written. Protections will be afforded to my people, and we shall be equals.¡± Crusher stated, and I didn¡¯t hesitate to stand and nod at his words. The man snorted, but stood as well and took my offered hand. I¡¯d like this in writing, and CC¡¯d to everyone, but this¡¯ll work for now. ¡°I am placing my people¡¯s future in your hands, King of Wisdom. Do not fail us. Please.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, Crusher. I swear.¡±


    Unfortunately, that means throwing your people at the front when shit starts going down, but just know that I¡¯m not doing it out of malice.


    I¡¯m doing it because it is the best choice that we have.

 V5: Chapter 11

    V5: Chapter 11


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    The plight of the conquerors reached me, and but a few weeks later, the King of Wisdom unveiled his latest accomplishment.


    There it was in bold font across the front of the paper: ¡°Conquerors form Alliance with the King of Wisdom!¡±


    I handed it away to Justinia and shook my head.


    ¡°As always, he¡¯s always present when the opportunity arises.¡± Clad in armor, I stalked forward in the battlefield with my retinue in tow. Our territory in the former lands of the Academy was under siege. Monsters and their ilk were gathering in great numbers and swelling into enormous swarms. Such was the case all over the Academy¡¯s former territory. All who had territory felt the pressure from the tide. ¡°Have you heard news from his settlement here? And the Conqueror¡¯s fortress?¡±


    ¡°Both are holding strong. The Conquerors rallied with the news and the supplies the King of Wisdom sent. As for his own territory, there¡¯s no sign of them wavering in their defense.¡± Justinia aspired to be immortal. Unlike all my other guards, she remained mortal. Her hair was a dull crimson and was tied like a braid over her shoulder. Her armor was black, and a ruby was set on the gorget that protected her neck. One of the first Champions that we have trained ourselves. ¡°I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s no way that man will falter, my lady. He¡¯s simply too prepared¡­ and with assets that surpass us completely.¡±


    ¡°And, he will continue to surpass us. The Conquerors will link their Citadel with his and their boons will increase further.¡± I took a deep breath and directed those under my control to fire upon the creatures charging from the distance. The giant spiders screeched and howled as their carapaces failed to protect them against the guns wielded by my skeletal troops. Hundreds of terrifying creatures died in minutes, yet it was far weaker than what mere militia could do in the King of Wisdom¡¯s lands. Those men could fire thrice as fast. ¡°We cannot fight him. We have others we must fight now.¡±


    ¡°The Merchants and the Forgers?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± I had declared myself his rival years ago when we first met. However, I refused to entertain such delusions any longer. For the sake of my people, I couldn¡¯t rush blindly after him and try to do the same as he did. In that path lay only disaster and death for my people. ¡°But, think of the present rather than them. These monsters can kill our people and imperil our lands just as well as the Merchants and the Forgers can.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Justinia nodded and looked upon the battlefield. In but a moment, her hand was stretched outward, and flame began to fall upon the foes of our people. Her head was covered in a helmet, but I knew her brow was furrowed in concentration behind her visor. I waited for her assault to end, resulting in a great many dead monsters and an opening for our Undead forces to exploit.


    Then, I spoke to her again, while the skeletons pressed the advantage.


    ¡°Unlike the King of Wisdom, foes such as these are still problems for us. He and his people will find little issue with them.¡± It was a simple matter of scale. I worked with my advisors and determined the changes between a Citadel with link against one with two, after we linked together with the Wardens for the benefits and broke away from one another after. Jack had two Citadels linked together for many years. The benefits we see now from one Citadel is half of what he had, until he gained a third, and now a fourth. ¡°He is beyond this. He is beyond us. The best we can do now is find allies and enemies. Enemies to take from, and allies to reach him.¡±


    We could ally with the Wardens and take the remaining two Citadels in the possession of the Merchants and the Forgers. Four Citadels against four, but even that had problems. He received the benefits of controlling four now, at this very instant, while we would only reach it after years of campaigning and battle. Not only that, but the Wardens were allies with Jack first. It was more likely that they¡¯d join him than us, if the opportunity presented itself. Although, given how much effort the Wardens have made to better relations with us¡­ there was a certain possibility, especially if Khalai wished to retain the independence of his people.


    But I set those thoughts aside, as a horse arrived close to me.


    A messenger.


    ¡°My lady, the swarms are ready.¡±


    ¡°Good. I will set about controlling them immediately. Call upon all our forces to my position to protect me.¡±


    ¡°As you wish!¡±


    The lightly-armored man galloped away to relay orders, while I took a seat and stretched out my senses, and found my people¡¯s greatest weapon. Once, we had created it simply to act against defense against the King of Wisdom¡¯s fearsome flying forces. While it has yet to be deployed against flying creatures, the Undead Hives proved themselves against ground targets. I took control of a dozen of the hives and through them I felt the queries of hundreds of smaller Undead waiting for orders.


    The hives took power from the surroundings, and limited the amount of sensory overload that came with controlling thousands of lesser undead creatures, such as reanimated bats, birds, and the like. They were meant to be easily usable by town mages, so that they could protect the sky against airborne troops, by deploying thick swarms of Undead, wreathing them in pale flame, and use them as flying projectiles against my people¡¯s enemies.


    While none attacked us from the air, the hives proved themselves against monsters and brigands.


    Each hive contained five hundred bodies of small, flying creatures. They were quick, and even if they could do no harm without the pale flames and could only do so once, they remained a powerful tool. Many monsters and bandits burned by attacks made with the hives by merely adequate mages.


    In my hands, with all my control over Undead through talent and training, I could call upon thousands whilst protected.


    And, so I did.


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    I willed them to fly forth and the skies above soon darkened with the flying shapes of Undead birds and bats. They cast a fragmented shadow upon the ground, as they became a huge flock of nearly three thousand high in the air, and once they formed a swarm they bid me for orders through the hive¡­ and I gave it to them.


    Search and destroy.


    Almost like one, the small, lesser Undead swarm surged towards the monsters we fought against. With spectral forms that held their bones in place, they tried to peck at the eyes of my enemies, claw at them, or find any measure to harm.


    But, in truth, they could hardly do more than distract with such tactics.


    The only way that they can harm is through sacrifice at my command.


    And, I gave that command.


    In an instant, all the monsters died in a massive conflagration along with the ¡®munitions¡¯ we used against them.


    I can only hope that weapons like these would tip the balance in our favor in the coming wars.


    ¡­


    ¡°Morgan.¡±


    ¡°My lord, you¡¯re supposed to be resting.¡±


    ¡°Coming up with strategies and working helps me sleep better at night. Besides, I don¡¯t go past my quota.¡± I was getting on in years. Almost nineteen. In a decade, I¡¯ll have lived longer here than I did back in my original world. Naturally, I was making sure to commit everything I knew, just in case. Scarring my brain up with thousands of hours of play time hasn¡¯t failed me yet, but having a backup was always nice. ¡°What brings you around here? Ayah¡¯s shift isn¡¯t ending any time soon.¡±


    Ayah dipped her head towards Morgan in greeting when she entered my tent.


    The rest of the army was in high spirits as we made our way back.


    Every town we entered on the way back had celebrations ready for us. Memorials were set up for the fallen in the classic style. Those who died and even those who got hurt were inscribed in stone and placed on a pedestal in tasteful gardens. I made speeches. These men died so we may live. They fought against horrors that would kill us all and do terrible things. The price of liberty and freedom is the blood of patriots.


    The usual lines, which people ate up, drove up recruitment, especially since I allocated some of the funds we saved from the faster-than-anticipated campaign as bonuses for everyone involved.


    I could¡¯ve had medals made, or some sort of combat ribbon, but I just handed people off letters of thanks and three months of salary tax-free.


    Honestly, I wasn¡¯t sure if the move would work out, but I the initial reactions were favorable and a lot of the younger kids looked at them with awe.


    Join up when you¡¯re adults, children!


    We kinda need anyone who can hold a gun!


    But that was beside the point at the moment, since Morgan had other ideas in in mind.


    ¡°When you spoke to Crusher that day, you said something along the lines of getting everything that you want, since you already paid the price. What did you mean by that?¡± Morgan must¡¯ve realized that I didn¡¯t understand what she was talking about thanks to my tactical deployment of a head tilt. Is it overexaggerated and weird? Yeah, but I¡¯m rich and powerful, so it¡¯s called being eccentric and loveable. Look at me, I¡¯m a kooky little tyrant, tee-hee pero. ¡°You refused his offer to give his life to us through the Kingslaying rite of the Conquerors. Your reasoning for that was sound. The people who would¡¯ve enforced it were dead or gravely wounded. However, then, though he did not say so¡­ he offered fealty to you in completion. All of them under your banner. Why not take that offer?¡±


    I didn¡¯t bother mincing words.


    ¡°I told you this already. I want all their power and strength and ability. Short-term, it¡¯d be swell if they just joined without a fuss and get taken over by us and get propped up, but they¡¯d lose their identity.¡± We left the Conquerors behind with our excess of supplies, new supplies, and more, while giving Crusher sub-access to the newly-improved Citadel. All of that was good, but with their task of rebuilding, it was a fraction of what they needed. A substantial fraction, but not even half. ¡°They¡¯d just be a bunch of tougher soldiers manning our wall, holding bigger pikes, and casting the same spells. Maybe, stronger laborers and stuff like that. Just another citizen that produces a bit more or a soldier that can take on a bit more of a challenge. They¡¯d lose their culture, their identity, and most importantly, their strengths.¡±


    ¡°We could have kept that by keeping their military officers and creating districts for them. They shouldn¡¯t have their own separate command, even if it is under yours. It invites duplicity and power struggles in the future.¡± Ah, that was the main issue. Morgan had the concerns of a person of this world. I was keeping the Conquerors as a nation inside a nation. Or, maybe, it was best to see them as a ¡®state¡¯ in part of a union. My laws and edicts go over their own, but they could keep things as is. Prop them up, make them strong and prosperous, and link them with us inextricably through trade, laws, and other things of that nature. A very normal approach from my world. Not much here. ¡°I understand that they have the strength and power that you desire, and I agree that they are powerful¡­ but I feel you are allowing them too much power.¡±


    It''s best that I address her concerns.


    ¡°If they misuse my trust, I¡¯ll have anyone older than twenty killed. Those between ten and twenty will earn freedom through military service.¡±  I inked out the decree a night or two after my last talk with Crusher. I had to. Civil wars events were a thing in the game. The best solution to them was singular, brutal, unforgiving, and horrifying, but it was what stopped neutral armies from jeopardizing victory over the rest of the planet and all the horrific designs the rest of the world had for us. ¡°The rest will be raised the remaining in education camps where they¡¯ll learn only what I want them to, and wipe away all memory of them from history.¡±


    It was complete cultural genocide coupled with near-eradication of the enemy faction/race that starts the civil war.


    I¡¯d written it down and signed off on it now, just in case a caught a bad case of ¡®empathy,¡¯ ¡®understanding,¡¯ and ¡®common decency,¡¯ in the future and lost sight of the fact that losing meant an eternity of suffering.


    Sorry, future-me and all my possible future-friends, but I¡¯d rather have moral dilemmas at a ripe, old age in peaceful retirement than the alternative.


    Which is to silently scream into the void, incapable of growing mad or ever finding a moment of rest, as a hybrid between furniture and blood bag.


    Yeah.


    Sorry, guys, gotta sign off on this decree, just in case!


    Morgan blinked several times as I offered her the paper, but soon enough she took it and pushed up her massive glasses. With how her head was craned down, the light passed through the lenses and made them clear, rather than clouding them over. Her eyes were a dark and deep blue. Strange to think that in the future they¡¯ll be glowing blood red and casting spells that¡¯ll make non-champions explode. Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t believe it, if not for the name, all the nonstop successes, and being talented at everything and anything.


    Man, why did she have to be the Demon Lord?


    I¡¯d love to give her an army and just have her go around cracking heads, but giving her a starting army that she¡¯d keep alive and raise up and who might introduce sleeper agents into the rest of my armies¡­ was stupid.


    Why can¡¯t you be a normal Champion?


    Anyway, she handed me back my decree, which I resealed into the letter for future use, and she seemed deep in thought.


    I moved to get back to work on putting down strategies on how to put down naval invasions when Morgan spoke again.


    With a very deep bow, and a big, wide smile filled with¡­ relief?


    Huh, now that I think about it, she¡¯s always had a bit of a furrow in her brow until now.


    ¡°Well, then. That¡¯s handled as well as it can be!¡± Morgan seemed chipper now. The way she talked seemed to have a pop to it. Spirit. Like she went from being a soda without bubbles to one  bursting with them, if that made any sense. Nope. It didn¡¯t. ¡°Well, I¡¯m a bit pooped, so I¡¯ll go take a long, long rest! I¡¯m going to sleep like a log, heh! You wouldn¡¯t mind if I take one of the spare chairs here, right?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s fine.¡± The hell is going on? Am I being gaslighted? I have so many bad feelings about this that it¡¯s not even funny. ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Jackie! See you tomorrow!¡±


    And, like that, she¡¯s snoring away in a spare chair in my tent like she¡¯s just finished fighting a whole war by herself.


    The fuck?

 V5: Chapter 12

    V5: Chapter 12


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ¡­


    As the men enjoyed the comforts and festivities of victory upon their return, I met with Gilbert in a safehouse two towns away.


    ¡°How does it feel to be back?¡± Gilbert wore a new disguise as a stern, older gentleman clad in one of the Academy¡¯s suits. If he didn¡¯t speak to me with his voice, I would¡¯ve wondered if he was right in front of me. ¡°I¡¯ve read your findings. A year being without civilization¡­¡±


    ¡°I lived for decades without the comforts offered by our lands¡­ but that didn¡¯t make it easier. I won¡¯t be leading many of these, even with a refreshed body.¡± Reinvigorated I might be, but the fact remained that I was unsuitable for the task. ¡°Riegert will do better. How is he?¡±


    ¡°Manning and clearing the lands of the Scholars, still. He¡¯s well suited to that task, and assisted me in my investigations, but we¡¯ll do better together especially with many of the challenges cut down.¡± That was good. I could supply Riegert with my findings, and he could venture out, while I tended to more domestic affairs. Ones that relied on skill with intrigue, rather than survival and combat. ¡°We found a few cells of the Scholars, but they haven¡¯t provided leads. They¡¯re harder to fight in the shadows¡­ and we have suspicions that the Academy is not as dead as we believed.¡±


    ¡°The accounts on some sort of Ancient construct delivering a demon blade to the Conquerors?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Gilbert paused before rising and going to the door. He waited outside for a moment, and then returned with foods laden on a tray. Fresh fruits, stewed vegetables, and freshly-roasted meats. My stomach rumbled even as I stopped myself from digging in and accepted plates and utensils. ¡°You eat, I¡¯ll talk, my lord.¡±


    ¡°You have my thanks.¡± Our supplies had been good, and we foraged extensively, but we were without much for the longest time. On our way back, as hearts lifted and we passed back through the mountain range where our enemies could not follow, all the talk became of soft cots, roofs over our heads, baths, and fresh food. I¡¯d already indulged in them all, but for the last I wasn¡¯t yet completely satiated. My men¡¯s constant talking must¡¯ve gotten to me. ¡°I heard the Conquerors are with us now?¡±


    ¡°That¡­ was outside my expectations, but that¡¯s just the norm when it comes to Jack. The Conquerors asked for aid, he called forth a militia and all who could come, and in but a two months their Citadel was with ours and they¡¯re now allies¡­ permanent ones.¡± Gilbert grunted and helped himself to his own tray of food. His was much smaller than mine. Just a light soup and some fresh bread. Many of my men would¡¯ve done terrible things for just that meal. Hm. I wonder how many of them were gorging themselves now. Wallace was sure to be admonishing many of them. Ah, mulled wine. It has been too long. ¡°They¡¯re rebuilding as we speak, and there¡¯s not an ounce of dissent from them. You¡¯d think that we made it all happen, given how we¡¯re profiting so much from what happened.¡±


    I nodded as I helped myself to the food, before gesturing to Gilbert to continue speaking. It was almost difficult to pay him attention, and he gave me a wry smile that told me he realized that I thought such. He didn¡¯t fault me though, and just spoke a bit slower to allow me to help myself.


    Good lad.


    ¡°Jack contacted me after, or rather, he approached you. The plan is to create a new organization. One on our tenets, but with far larger scope and with coverage over all our lands.¡± Gilbert produced a small letter from his jacket. It was written simply and in plain words, but since it was addressed to me, Gilbert could¡¯ve only received it through Jack himself personally delivering it. ¡°Not just a few select agents, but a whole web. One that will require a training center of its own, hidden away, where we spirit away recruits that¡¯ll want for nothing. The details are¡­ extensive.¡±


    I gazed on it and took a moment to speak after swallowing.


    ¡°He¡¯s creating an army of people such as you and I to search every possibility and kill any threat. Our kind, but produced on the same scale as warriors.¡±


    ¡°Is that even possible?¡±


    ¡°A decade ago, I would say no, but now¡­ I think it would be foolish to not try.¡± This request from Jack reminded me of his request to create his transports. He outlined the costs, what will be needed, how to acquire it all, and the benefits to us. All was clear, concise, and turned a dream into something far better: a plan of action. ¡°We¡¯ll keep it mind and work on it as soon as I fully recover. However, for now, what¡¯s important is that all that we¡¯ve found makes it to the capital as soon as possible in complete secrecy.¡±


    ¡°I agree. At least, we should try. The benefits are worth the risk, as long as we can keep them all from betraying us.¡±


    A thought occurred to me at those words.


    ¡°That might not be a problem with what we have found. You are aware of Ayah¡¯s true nature, correct?¡±


    ¡°Aye, she¡¯s an Ancient Golem capable of changing shape and form, but intended to rebuild and aid us in fighting against the foes of the Ancients¡­ despite all her power.¡±


    ¡°Correct, and we believed that she is the last of her kind, but such is not the case.¡± We were already in a secluded room, and I trusted Gilbert, so I had no reason to whisper or lie.  I waved my guard forward, whom Gilbert had eyed with suspicion, until I had signaled him worthy of trust. ¡°The Ancients left many things behind, defended by grand defenses and curses upon their foes, but the closest complex they left behind had a singular purpose: to create an army that those who remain free can use to fight back.¡±


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    Gilbert, of course, realized what I was speaking about while my guard took off his hood and helmet.


    Revealing a perfectly smooth, puppet-like head, much like the Guardians born of the Citadels.


    Tristain¡¯s voice warbled, as he spoke before reforming his mouth.


    ¡°Our creators left us to toil and perfect ourselves. At first, it took much to create us. Buildings the size of mountains, but we studied what they left behind, and discovered new paths as the centuries passed¡­ and now all we need to create is mass and this.¡± Tristain pushed aside his vest and presented a smooth chest seemingly made of pure white stone. It opened and where his heart was¡­ was a faintly shining orb embedded amidst a dizzying array of machinery. To its left and right, there were smaller ones growing and he plucked one of the lesser orbs out of his chest. The size of a marble, yet it could become a warrior of devastating potential, a scholar with quick wit, a mage with immense potential, or a shadow hidden in the dark ready to strike. ¡°With magic and mass alone, we can forge ourselves. The stronger the material, the mightier we are, and your people have laid claim to the greatest works of the Ancients, inherited their legacy, and their foes who rule the world entire.¡±


    Gilbert was lost in thought for a long time, but slowly he closed his open jaw and managed to speak.


    ¡°How many of your people are there? How fast can you create yourselves?¡±


    Tristain gave Gilbert the same, grim answer he gave me.


    ¡°Enough to give you all a fighting chance against the horrors that are coming.¡±


    Indeed.


    Tristain and his people were an immense boon to us, but we faced an entire world of horrors that were now breaking apart the defenses that protected us for so, so long.


    Still, though, they were a faint, shining light in the dark future that lay ahead.


    ¡­


    Not going to lie, under normal circumstances, I¡¯d restart my game if I went out of my way to secure the very first expedition and got the garbage Ancient Wonder that Khanrow brought back.


    The Ancient Iterants are pretty much the lowest rank Wonder that you could get, because stat-wise it only provided three things: increased population growth, increased defenses during sieges, and finally a ten percent production bonus in all Citadels.


    On the surface, that¡¯s all great and I won¡¯t deny the benefits were great in real life, but the other Ancient Wonders we could¡¯ve found were better. I¡¯d hoped we¡¯d find the Vengeance Factory, which was giant fucking robot that you deployed on mountain tiles. That giant robot would take five turns, turn the mountain tile into flat land, and give you a T2 Army without any upfront or maintenance cost. If you spent the money and research to upgrade it, it¡¯ll churn out T3 armies and you can just drown your enemies in robots.


    Now that¡¯s a SSS-tier Ancient Wonder.


    Comp stomp even at the highest level, and all your living opponents quit if they find out that you have it.


    Ancient Iterants, meanwhile, gave you more pops, more production, and increased defense in your cities.


    The comp will stomp you, and your online ¡®friends¡¯ will laugh at you for days.


    There are normal Wonders that you can build yourself that give similar bonuses, while only seven Ancient Wonders spawn per game out of a pool of fifty and normally they take 20 turns to get. Five years that you must supply that entire army for, which you can¡¯t use, who¡¯s also led by a Champion you have no access to.


    If I received the Ancient Iterants after paying that price, I¡¯d literally restart the game from opportunity cost alone.


    But, since it was at a massive discount because it''s the first found, I had less issues with it.


    And, of course, there was the fact that in-game stats were balanced for online play, while in reality¡­ they could do more.


    Or, at least, I hoped that they could.


    ¡°Ayah, you¡¯re taking command of these people. You¡¯ve been asking for tasks in the evening. They¡¯re yours.¡± Ayah gave a bow at my command, while I stood up from my desk. I¡¯d arrived just a few days ago back home and work had piled up while I was away. This was a good break, all things considered. ¡°Who¡¯s your leader?¡±


    ¡°We are meant to serve those who lay claim to the Ancient¡¯s legacy.¡±


    Yeah, no. I know your event chain. I¡¯m ending it right here and right now.


    ¡°No. You¡¯re a people created with a purpose, just like the rest of us made by the Ancients. I¡¯m sure that you all have your own dreams, aspirations, and desires¡­ besides surviving a planet full of nightmares. So, tell me what you want in exchange for your help.¡± Ancient Wonders came with event chains. Ancient Iterants had a pretty generic, boring one, which was another reason it was an F-tier Ancient Wonder. Robots aren¡¯t people, even though they look like people, so we can treat them like shit and use them to our advantage. Yadda, yadda. Blah, blah. Boring. Skipping it. Nipping it in the bud. Don¡¯t got time for that bullshit. "Before you ask, you¡¯ll have all the rights the rest of my people have. Wages in exchange for work, homes just like everyone else¡¯s, education if you want it, and even the right to not live just to fight and die like dogs on the battlefield. What I want to know is¡­ what do your people want?¡±


    ¡°What we¡­ want?¡± The one I was speaking to had red hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. According to Khanrow, the Iterants defaulted to this style, and they did the same in-game. They could shapeshift, but the game-devs left that up to the modders. Lots of perverts out there ran mods turning Iterant army units into super-hot robot women in gothic dresses and blindfolds. Not going to lie, I ran that mod too, on the off-chance that I ¡®lost¡¯ and got the Ancient Wonder. Lessened the pain of losing so much and gaining so little. Whoever made the Ancient Wonder system into an in-game gacha system deserves to go to hell. ¡°We¡­ I¡­ don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Then, find a leader amongst yourselves, talk it out, and write it out. I¡¯ll review it along with all the other public requests.¡± I jammed a thumb over my shoulder at the pile of slates I had. I was a tyrant, but I wanted to keep my people satisfied and not doing stupid shit like rebel while we had world-spanning threats coming. Gotta keep the people a little chubby and happy, so that they¡¯re willing to fight and die for the state. ¡°Ayah, that¡¯s the highest priority. If you need less shifts to get it done¡­¡±


    ¡°I will not. This matter will be dealt with by tomorrow. Come along, Iterants.¡± The Ancient Administrator glared down at its new charges. I wasn¡¯t sure why, but the Ancient Golem didn¡¯t seem to like them. Hm. Ah, right. These guys were an uncorrupted version of the AI swarm that fucked over the Ancients, but reforged and remade before being told to improve and locked away in a massive, well-protected research center. Ayah probably had trust issues with them.


    Hm.


    Time to give an order.


    ¡°Be nice to them, Ayah. They may resemble the foes the Ancients once faced, but they¡¯re not them.¡±


    Ayah froze at my words.


    ¡°How did you know that?¡±


    ¡°It was a guess. One based off your actions alone.¡± I lied as I turned to return to my desk. Ayah stared at me, and so did the Iterant. Was there some sort of guilt built into the Iterants? The setting¡¯s fucked up enough for a whole race to be aware from birth that they¡¯re fuck ups. ¡°They are not their forebears, and Ancients betrayed one another, too. Treat them as you would the rest of our people, as we are all fighting the same war.¡±


    Ayah nodded after a moment and straightened up, while getting rid of the small frown it sported, then it bowed at me.


    ¡°Your will shall be done, my lord.¡±


    I waved them away and enjoyed the few moments I¡¯d have before Morgan would come by after hearing Ayah left.


    For some reason, the greatest traitor to the entire world was spending all the time she could around me.


    Needless to say, I think I¡¯m starting to get ulcers.

 V5: Chapter 13

    V5: Chapter 13


    ¡­


    Honestly, I don¡¯t see the appeal of city-simulation games.


    Zone this, make public services, set taxes, make ordinances, set up public transport, get a city able to support universities, maintain wonders¡­ and then use the terrain editor to drown everyone in septic waste for the giggles.


    May as well just make a sand castle and knock it down after making some fanfiction about it.


    Now, I¡¯m not saying that city-simulation games don¡¯t have appeal.


    I, personally, don¡¯t see the point of making something, finishing it, and then wrecking it.


    If I make something, then I want that something to help me win.


    If I¡¯m turning a planet infested by aliens into a factory, that factory has to do something that¡¯ll win me the game.


    If I¡¯m going to settle dozens of islands across multiple different maps and coordinate trade convoys of resources of each one while managing the population, I want all of that to help me make a military fleet that can destroy my rivals.


    If I¡¯m setting up a civilization that¡¯ll stand the test of time, I want to use the civilization to roll over my enemies with tanks while they¡¯re using pikes.


    Yeah, essentially, I need to know that the time I give means something substantial.


    Not just a twenty minute match in a closing ring with other people competing for shit that¡¯ll reset in a few months or shiny skins.


    Not just making a city for the sake of making a city.


    I want to make something that I¡¯m proud of and happy with¡­ and then use it to bludgeon my opponents while they can¡¯t stop me.


    I want a perfect journey and perfect ending.


    I want to win easily, but also earn that win against strong opponents.


    I want to be completely satisfied with all the time I invested, never hate a single second I spend, until I look at the victory screen with a smile.


    In short, without a semblance of a doubt, I¡¯m selfish as hell.


    Thankfully, in this world and with what I know, that¡¯s an asset rather than a vice that I need to correct.


    To get what I want, I need to make the correct decisions.


    Not the right decisions.


    The correct decisions.


    There¡¯s a massive difference.


    ¡­


    The hyper-authoritarian police state starts NOOOOOOWWWWWWW.


    Yep, not going to mince words.


    Democracy, free-speech, and elected officials aren¡¯t going to be a thing in the society that I¡¯m making. Choosing that path on the current level of fuckery, with the tidal wave of shit coming my way, would be an elaborate suicide. In the history of the entire game, only one man has documented an entire playthrough of ironman mode as a budding democracy with all crises activated, and he only won due to sheer luck by getting the correct set of Ancient Wonders to randomly spawn.


    He only managed to eke out a win, too.


    And, not going to lie, I¡¯m not even close to his level.


    Therefore, it¡¯s time to go full surveillance state complete with secret police, dehumanization of all our foes, and state-controlled media. All education given will be state-approved. All literature will go through the state before publishing. If your business is amazing, it¡¯s going to be nationalized for the good of the nation, while you get a measly cut of profits and a pension for winning the minor game of capitalism that I allow.


    Yep.


    That¡¯s where all the new income I¡¯m getting is going, as well as the necessary buildings to support the costs of it all, naturally.


    ¡°The new observer towers and their policing stations have been built and begun operating today. Nothing but good news on their deployment, my liege.¡±  Ayah informed me, as I looked out the balcony onto the city below. Amidst the sprawling city filled with districts for homes, industry, and commerce, there were now cylindrical towers evenly spaced out from one another. Made of the pure-white substance that composed the Citadels, they were like map pins embedded from on high by a giant upon the city. ¡°The Iterants report that they are surveilling the whole city with utmost ease and coordinating with their fellows stationed on site.¡±


    ¡°Good. Very good.¡± I made sure to use the guilty Iterants. Their desire for acceptance worked well with my need for a secret police. They could change shape, hide in the crowds, didn¡¯t need to sleep, and were strong and fast. I had squads of them working the streets, guided by watchers in the observation room at the bottom of the Citadel. ¡°How goes the record-keeping effort?¡±


    ¡°Five percent of all people in this city are now having their daily habits and schedules studied. We expect to be done with creating a thorough record for each individual in this city within the year.¡± Data gathering was made a lot easier by the upgrade to the fourth stage of Citadels. The replication machines in the Citadels were now producing basic communication devices which could store and transfer data within the range of the four Citadels under my control. As if that wasn¡¯t a good enough way to keep them all to us, the simple tablets were tracked by the Citadel¡¯s systems, and they transferred all that they took into me. Not only that, but I could track each one of them in real-time. Naturally, I wanted one in every citizen¡¯s pocket, and they paid for the privilege, because being able to text and keep notes perfectly is magic people gladly paid for. ¡°Many are adopting the tablets being produced by the Citadel very well.¡±


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    If only the tablets could compute.


    I¡¯d honestly kill for a spreadsheet program, but being able to text and record and communicate throughout my territories was enough.


    But the new surveillance towers still had other costs that I needed to address.


    In-game, they provided increased security against espionage, provided more defense during sieges, and decreased the happiness of the citizenry. If happiness is low enough, then events attributed to structures or districts you built, as well as policies you implement, come into play. If your people are unhappy, those structures might need to be repaired, districts need to be rebuilt, or policies just get rescinded even though you paid the influence needed to push it through. The developers liked the idea of cascading failure states, especially since most strategies that people liked in the early days of the game had them ignoring population unhappiness and doing nothing for their people.


    So, they implemented civil unrest, civil disturbances, riots, and then civil wars, to make those strategies high risk with high rewards only if you balanced things correctly.


    Basically, you can¡¯t win the game if you treat your people like complete dogshit.


    So, implementing all these security measures required a couple of things to keep me on the positive side in ¡®happiness¡¯ income.


    ¡°Alright, how are the national food banks and the new district being treated?¡± I worked with the Followers of the Smiling Tyrant and upgraded their district to Level 3, since I could afford it now with 4 Citadels under my control. Their district was quite different from the rest of my city. Lights courtesy of their mages coursed over their land in a multi-colored spectrum. Hot air balloons floated from building top to building top. That was just what I could see from my office. On the ground, you¡¯d see people walking on thin ropes between every building, entrances to buildings on the fifth floor, and hundreds of tall, bright tents used by performers. At the heart of it was their temple to their Smiling Tyrant, where they trained, taught, and proselytized about their deity to all who would listen. That usually involved good times with lots of music and food, so people liked them. ¡°Any problems?¡±


    ¡°The Smiling Tyrants report that the people have received them well, and that they are ready to begin plying their trade across the land. They have offered us much as thanks, as you predicted, and I have accepted.¡± They were good as domestic protectors and the happiness they gave was a bonus, but they shined bright as entertainers that could get anywhere. Once they became part of the nation¡¯s culture, they could deploy assassins, seduce enemy leaders, or do sabotage. It¡¯ll take time for all that to be in play, but they¡¯ll supplement the Iterants in the future.  ¡°The Food Banks required more time for people to understand, but they are now in full swing, and are greatly enjoyed.¡±


    In-game, Food Banks didn¡¯t exist, but I knew from studying history that there¡¯s fewer ways for a government to show that it cares than providing the basics for the people. Of course, there was the issue in the future that people might take it for granted, but in the near future we were all going to get hit with non-stop life-altering events, so I was sure that the food banks were going to be appreciated in the future too.


    Anyway, I was subsidizing a lot of the agricultural sector to produce massive surpluses. With the use of seeds made by the Citadels, and the fact I was more than happy to produce nigh-unbreakable farming equipment from the Citadels, they were already producing tons and tons of food. We easily reached the point where supply massively outstripped demand, even though we were just coming out of a famine. Thus, I had to subsidize the farmers to keep producing ludicrous amounts, because the market would dictate that they should cut down.


    The Food Banks turned that surplus into ¡®free¡¯ food for my population after the markets got what they needed and the quotas for the food stores were met. Though I was shipping thousands of tons of food around the continent and filling up chilled underground complexes with barrels of preserved and pickled fruits and vegetables as well as loads of grain, the Food Banks were still needed. If I didn¡¯t have them, I¡¯d have to throw out and destroy food.


    In-game, if you had excess food, your population grew more quickly, but the numbers were showing that wasn¡¯t happening. Population was slowly growing, but nowhere close to the numbers in-game cities had by late game. We were set to get to a million in a decade, but in-game we should be at three or even four, especially for the build that I was going with, which was extracting resources from all my other regions and funneling everything to support my starting one.


    The data and trends we had were good, but we just didn¡¯t have the time.


    So, I was going with another tactic.


    Make my future estimated population have the same output as the population that I wanted.


    That started with food, then health, followed by education, and then lots of heavy industry.


    ¡°Good. I want people hale, healthy, and working hard. We need everyone working hard.¡± Shifts were ten hours long. Sometimes twelve. I hired the elderly to watch after children for now, but schools were going to be built soon. Ones with dormitories so that parents could rest at their homes and not deal with their kids. Food was being subsidized so people could just buy food instead of cooking. I was shaping the whole of society towards industry. Until I saw piston-driven fighters and bombers being churned out by the dozen every month, I wasn¡¯t going to be satisfied. ¡°How are our acquisitions of luxuries going?¡±


    ¡°The Merchants are buckling. They know that we have all the leverage. It will only be a matter of time before they concede, or they do something drastic. Our alliance with the Wardens is bearing fruit, too. All the returning flights are filled with jewelry, art, clothing, and other such things.¡± And, my people were the retailers for the luxuries my people were spending their hard-earned money on. The theatres were running stories that I stole form my own world. The restaurants churning out the healthy, cheap meals were owned by me. There were some small businesses, but like I said, at a certain point I came in the buy them out and give them a nice pension and retirement. Money from trade via weapons, food, and culture flowed into the coffers, paying salaries, and those salaries went back to me through sales and taxes. ¡°We are growing at a steady rate. We will be able to support the army of Conquerors that we will need to hold the line.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I¡¯m the commander and chief of a military junta, the head of what¡¯s practically a mega-corporation, and finally the big brother with my extensive surveillance network. Essentially, I turned what not to do as a leader into a checklist. Anyone with two brain cells can track the money and find that all the money is going to what I decide is right for the nation. Honestly, it¡¯s a surprise that no one¡¯s going against me. The people should be ridiculously unhappy and I should be working against rivals for my position, yet nothing was happening. It¡¯s honestly making me paranoid. ¡°Good.¡±


    I looked over at the city below, teeming with people, and felt bad.


    I wish I could take the right actions, make this place into a fully-fledged democratic state, which¡¯ll usher in an age of peace and prosperity across the planet. I wouldn¡¯t just win. I¡¯d get the best ending possible, while also fairly elected by people keeping me in check. Instead of war, I¡¯d love to leverage my influence and power, and just force peace and alliances on everyone else, instead of having to put them down.


    The path is there, the possibility existed, and yet I couldn¡¯t take it.


    Doing so would be the same as killing everyone else with my own hands.


    ¡°Jack, is something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Just wondering if I¡¯m doing the right thing. Having troubles, y¡¯know?¡± My light-hearted response threw Ayah off my trail, and after a deep breath, I went back to work. ¡°How¡¯s the progress going regarding the Wardens?¡±


    Ayah stilled at that, and I knew I threw her off the trail of me being from another reality altogether.


    ¡°We have found several radicals that are against the current teachings espoused by Khalai and his people. Soon, we can fund a holy schism that will cripple them and drive them towards us.¡±


    Yeah.


    While I¡¯m telling everyone it¡¯s the Academy at fault for what happened to the Conquerors, I¡¯m going to do the same to Khalai, so that I can take everything that he had.


    Everyone will think the Academy set it up, while I ride in, put the rebels down, and bring the Wardens into the fold.


    Once more, I nodded at Ayah.


    ¡°Good. Get to it. We¡¯ll bring them in, next.¡±


    Sorry, Khalai, but I can¡¯t have you finish your Wonder, and I¡¯d rather not wipe out your people.


    You need to go, just like the Deliverer did, and I¡¯ll put Sirena or someone I can control in your place.

 V5: Chapter 14

    V5: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    It was a long time since I was last home, and as I expected, things changed quickly in my absence.


    ¡°Feels like we¡¯ve stepped into a different world, but with all the same faces, Captain.¡± Oswald peered in every direction, as did many of the other many. His mustache quivered and his bushy brows narrowed, while he looked. Some older ladies giggled at the sight of him, and he flushed. ¡°Can¡¯t say it feels bad.¡±


    ¡°Our King has been busy.¡± The words didn¡¯t do the thought justice. All around us buildings of great size were being built of brick and glass. The first floors were shops filled with all manner of clothing, toys, and other amenities once reserved solely for those in Academy lands. The streets were wide, with trees planted every so often to cast shade, and small plots were dedicated for gardens. The sewage system was completed and water ran into the gutters, as did anything else foul, towards the Citadel where it could all be cleaned and made useful. ¡°Most of this was in construction when we left, though.¡±


    ¡°Aye, but it¡¯s one thing to know it¡¯ll be, but another to see something as it is.¡± Oswald argued, and I couldn¡¯t argue. We reached the level of the Academy in less than a decade. We watched this place as it came up from dirt with houses and structures that all looked the same as one another. Now, well the buildings all looked the same still, but the materials were undoubtably stronger and each structure could hold far more. Yet, even though I know almost a million people lived here, there was more than enough space, everything was clean, and there was a sense of purpose in the air. ¡°Look at that. There¡¯s children walking around in little groups now with barely a care.¡±


    I looked to where Oswald was pointing, and sure enough, I caught sight of Jack¡¯s developments.


    With so many of our people working, he saw that children were being neglected, and moved to address the issue at its heart. Children were given free board and food and schooling at our new schools, where they would learn what was once limited only to the aristocracy of the Academy. Those schools were well-guarded, and the food carefully chosen. What was once reserved for only the elite of the greatest nation on the continent was being provided to all who had children in our lands.


    ¡°It¡¯s like raising a child with the help of a whole village, but better. Work all you want, rest, and see your children and every so often.¡± Oswald shook his head and sighed. I knew where his disappointment lay, and I placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Captain, do you think I¡¯ll have another chance?¡±


    ¡°You will. I need men like you here, helping to coordinate my expedition from the rear lines. Go find yourself a young lass. Get in the tank and you¡¯ll be a fine fit for a new family.¡± Jack insisted that we retain as many of those with talent and experience as possible. Even though many clamored for the revitalization treatments offered by the Citadels now, with many merchants offering vast sums and even newly wealthy offering substantial amounts, those who served with us had priority, especially those who fought for the front. Only the finest care for those who risked their lives in battle, he told them all, and that earned him the loyalty and trust of many. ¡°You¡¯ll be rid of all your aches and pains¡­ but a desk job will introduce you to a few more!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d thought being young and whole again would mean fighting the same fights I did back as a young man. I¡¯ll take a boring job here with the chance to do things right.¡± Oswald took a deep breath and nodded. His hand went to his chest where a locket lay. His wife and child died of disease on our wagon train, despite our best efforts. It was a familiar tale to everyone in these lands, but it was impossible here. ¡°I¡¯ll take that offer, Captain.¡±


    ¡°Good. Leave scouring the planet for a means of being victorious to me.¡± I let go of his shoulder as he aimed a dour look at me. I gave him a large grin. Since I¡¯d been revitalized, I felt like a new man. So many aches and pains that I¡¯d grown accustomed to simply weren¡¯t there. Tasks that I had found a bit difficult no longer were. I felt like I was in my prime again, even after a year. Truly, the Ancients were at the very apex of civilization. ¡°Go and start a family. You¡¯ve earned it.¡±


    Oswald swallowed thickly and nodded in return, as we made our way through the town.


    However, as I walked, all that I knew faded the vibrant vision that I looked upon.


    Jack¡¯s plan was to make this region so difficult to contest that all our battles will take place our other Citadels. Over there no towns were being built and none were living outside of the Citadel¡¯s reach. Rural populations were being shifted to permanent homes near Citadels and its Guardians, while the land was being stripped of resources and food was being grown with great efficacy and stored in tremendous amounts. With rationing, at our current pace and even with our trade obligations, every person that we had already had five years of food set for them. That¡¯s without the Citadel¡¯s mechanisms making food in tremendous amounts, too.


    Jack and Khanrow were shaping the continent into a battleground, for a battle for our very existence, and I was telling my friend to start a family and be happy.


    His child, and many of the children we saw being guided in groups throughout the town, we''re likely to pick up weapons and be buried by their parents.


    Such was the terrible truth of our world.


    All that we have achieved now will soon be under siege by the most terrible of foes.


    ¡­


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    Interlude: Grimnar


    ¡­


    The stone itself somehow reeked of brine and blood.


    My hands gripped the handle of my hammer, while from my shoulders a light was cast upon the sewage tunnels.


    Carved into the mountains to keep our halls and homes clean, it instead became infested with a new, terrible foe.


    Yet, still, it was a foe that could be crushed and killed.


    But something was different today.


    I turned off my gems and let the darkness enrobe me. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. Though the hunters of precious gems held true reign over the tunnels of our common ancestors, my people¡¯s sight was more than sufficient for battle in the darkness.


    So, I walked gingerly through the emptied sewage tunnels, carved smooth by magic, and followed the trail of my foes.


    They arrived at the start of this year in small numbers and in secret. The throngs of our kin knew not of them, but our king heeded the warnings of his only peer. We kept watch on the seas and the underbelly of our society, using our criminals and the refuse of our society as bait, and they preyed upon them as we expected.


    We followed them as they used the bodies of the misbegotten filth to use as nests for their eggs and smashed them apart without mercy.


    Their flesh, bones, and viscera proved to have many effects and we harvested them for study, while burning their nests.


    The first delves against them resulted in casualties, but we adapted. Singular, highly skilled agents fought better in the tunnels. Helms lined with lead thick, strong glass to cover faces. Air only through backpacks housing large, thick filters. Only those with the finest physiques and even thereafter trained extensively, and covered in even more armor and magical protections.


    Now, we hunted them like titans, while they scurried in fear in the sewers.


    But today was different.


    I happened upon the nest of my prey and found something else looming over the body of the ones I hunted.


    It was tall and sleek, but unlike its parents it did not struggle beneath the weight of the surface. It stood on two legs with a body covered in fine scales and fingers more kin to tentacles than digits. The fins on its back were small and atrophied, while a defined musculature was apparent upon its form. Bare of hair, its head was transparent and showcased a pulsing, glowing brain behind its clear bones.


    Its eyes were upon me in a moment, and it lunged upon me with intent to tear my helm off, and force its mind upon my own.


    To that I had a singular answer.


    ¡°Fool.¡± Mid-lunge, I crushed its skull with speed and precision. My hammer carved a square path through the whole of its mind. It twitched once in the air, before falling to my feet¡­ dead. ¡°Stolen strength means nothing. Now, the rest of you, come.¡±


    I looked at the rest of them, scurrying in the deeper darkness of the tunnel with their yellow, glowing eyes and faintly glowing skulls. They were giving each other strength, some innate magic allowing them to lend each other power.


    I was ready to prove them wrong, when my eyes looked upon the nest from which they were born.


    Anger overtook me like an inferno overwhelming a furnace.


    ¡°You dare take the life of a Trueborn!?¡± The musculature of the body was apparent even in death, but what condemned the creatures completely was the brand on the Trueborn¡¯s shoulder. Ten generations of careful breeding, of training, of feeding, of nurturing supported by the entirety of the nation to ensure our race prospered throughout time¡­ dead. To my horror, only five marks were beneath his brand. Only five children sired. This Trueborn was could barely be halfway into his third decade. Nowhere close to expended. Nowhere close to having finished his duty to make our people strong. ¡°Death is a mercy for you and your ilk! You will all burn!¡±


    I called forth flame and suffused myself with it. The flame coursed through my armor and I burned, but I withstood the pain. My father¡¯s father was Trueborn, thus I was blessed. My hide was strong, my heart mighty, and the flames that would burn these creatures barely harmed me. Me and my kin once walked on the surface of molten rivers to do our duty, and one day we would again, but for now¡­ I would see these transgressors suffer instead.


    I felt through the rock by touching it with my hand.


    I saw the sewers in the back of my mind, and found the markings left behind by the mages, and activated them.


    The tunnels turned instantly turned into a furnace as I sealed them all with me and continued to burn.


    They realized what I did.


    What I intended to do them for their crimes against my people¡­ and they charged at me as a combined, slithering mass with stolen strength, profane claws for hands, and their minds amplifying their strength.


    My anger roared.


    ¡°You damnable beasts! You stole so much, yet all you can do is charge!?¡± They stole the strength of so many future generations, but they just charge!? All they do is fight like animals against me!? This was worse than mockery. This was an insult to my entire people! With that in mind, I discarded my hammer and curled my hands into fists and set them aflame, letting metal melt and augment my burning hide. The pain was nothing compared to what these creatures did. ¡°You don¡¯t deserve the dignity of dying by our weapons! You die today with my hands alone!¡±


    My hammer lodged itself into solid stone, beyond their ability to extract, and I accepted their charge head on.


    And, I was not moved.


    ¡°Weak! Incapable! A mockery of life itself!¡± I cursed them as they tried to claw and find purchase into my armor, even as they burned, screeched, and fought through the pain. While I endured it without flinching, they were stopped by the flame enrobing me. ¡°Even your minds are beyond saving! To be ash will better you lot!¡±


    I grabbed the closest to me, and it shrieked as it tried to escape my grasp, but they were the fools that charged into the reach of a Forger.


    I caught it, as it tried to leap away, and I crushed its spine and tossed it aside to die lamed and aflame.


    Then, with my fists, I engaged the rest.


    I tore through the chest of one and tore out a lung and set aflame what remained.


    My fist punched through the soft underbelly of another, and I set it alight while holding its soft, flexible spine in a crushing, burning grip.


    One that clambered on my shoulders, I grabbed with both hands around the waist, and smashed against the nearest wall so hard that its insides burst out of its torso. It twitched as the flames on its sides slowly engulfed it.


    With those deaths alone¡­ the creatures broke and tried to run.


    I did not allow them.


    I burned, I crippled, and I made them suffer for their crimes against my people.


    And, as they died in the furnace that I created, I went to the corpse of the Trueborn and knelt before him in forgiveness.


    ¡°Oh, ye of honored blood and body. I beg thee for forgiveness for my failure.¡± I burned, but the pain meant nothing to my sorrow. How many children could he have fathered that would have grown strong? How many of his sons and daughters would have been Trueborn and bettered our people? All that was lost forever. So many generations of work¡­ gone forever. ¡°Let the wailing of these creatures carry thee to peace, Trueborn. Know that thy demise with be avenged a thousandfold for each of thine murderers. This I swear upon mine own blood and body.¡±


    That oath soothed my heart.


    Yes.


    One parent. Twenty children.


    Twenty-one thousand deaths of these creatures shall suffice as my penance for my failure to protect my people.


    No lesser amount would suffice, but their complete destruction was beyond my reach.


    Aye.


    Twenty-one thousand shall have to do.

 V5: Epilogue

    V5: Epilogue


    ¡­


    So, a fourth Citadel.


    You must be wondering what that gives in terms of tech unlocks and how broken it is.


    With a fourth Citadel, the presumption is that every AI faction will be against you and that they¡¯ll be allying with one another. In a few months, they¡¯ll be united and have four Citadels, while their armies are hitting every front that you have. And, mathematically speaking, the crises will begin soon after you get your fourth Citadel. It¡¯s just flat-out impossible to get five Citadels before the big bads show up, because of movement constraints, the amount of resources you can gain the first decade, and tech limits.


    So, whoever has a fourth Citadel will have to deal with an opponent rising rapidly to parity, while monsters spill out of every corner of the planet with intent to kill, murder, maim, and become better at all three by taking your shit.


    Whatever the fourth Citadel unlocks needs to be worth all that heat.


    A weapon so strong that it acted as a shield by being a deterrent.


    Unfortunately, no, I can¡¯t just churn out nukes and glass my opponents.


    I need eight for that, and irradiating the whole planet wasn¡¯t my style.


    Alright, fine, I¡¯ll stop being coy.


    If you¡¯ve got four Citadels under your command, you can start building Citadel Guardians and deploying them as armies in your territory.


    Yeah, it sounds simple, but it¡¯s also powerful.


    It¡¯s honestly all you need.


    They¡¯re T3 Units, and you can produce a unit of them, a thousand in number, in every Citadel you¡¯ve got and they finish within four turns. While they can¡¯t operate in enemy territory, they¡¯re devastating on the defense, because they¡¯re literally murder-robots made up of knives, have maxed out armor values, and are fast as hell, too. Once you get four Citadels, the next move is to churn them out and have anything stepping into your territory torn get apart.


    It¡¯s a slow-down sign for the developers.


    You¡¯ve got your bag, now hold on and chill, until you can fight.


    Once you get these Citadel Guardians churning out, presumably from playing your heart out, you hold your ground, improve your tiles, and hold the line. Remake the armies you¡¯ve lost, consolidate who you¡¯ve got left, take stock, and get ready for the storms to come barreling your way. Explore other avenues of attack and stop neglecting everything else. No matter the stage in the game you¡¯re in, it¡¯s time to buckle up, put in the mouth guard, get ready to beat up, and choose the victory condition you¡¯re going for¡­ behind a teaming mass of unflinching, ever-loyal murder robots.


    Fear nothing, because you¡¯ve got pearly-white terminators who didn¡¯t need plasma rifles in the 40 watt range.


    If you don¡¯t make them, you get jumped by everyone else and lose all your hard work¡­ and you¡¯d deserve it for being an idiot.


    Anyway, with the Citadel¡¯s foundries churning them out for the next year, that still left four seasons where my existing armies need to be spread out to cover everything that we claimed.


    So, no marches for me for the near future.


    Just, y¡¯know, planning a religious schism, an assassination of a religious leader currently my ally, and putting in someone else as a puppet for the papacy.


    Typical 4X game shenanigans, really.


    ¡­


    ¡°Was the outside world as horrible as I predicted?¡±


    ¡°Worse.¡± Khanrow took a seat, while I typed off a few more messages to coordinate my brief disappearance from the rest of the Citadel. He was looking clean and fresh, probably enjoying the luxuries offered by the Citadel. His old haunt was taken over by Iterants now, who were running the surveillance systems. Just hundreds of them in shifts watching every little problem in the underground of the Citadel. Meanwhile, Khanrow was enjoying a guest suite, before I shipped him off to Riegert¡¯s old position at the Scholar¡¯s former Citadel. There, he¡¯ll be heading our new espionage efforts, while I did the heavy lifting. ¡°There are whole cities out there filled with the same creatures that laid the Conquerors low with a single sword. They have roads with constant traffic, regions where they keep primitive, docile versions of our people, and they are armed, organized, and strong.¡±


    ¡°Any sign of Ancient weaponry or derivatives?¡±


    ¡°No, but that¡¯s not much of a blessing. They have different forms of magic, but magic all the same, and in great numbers.¡± Khanrow reached into his desk and pulled out his notes. I took it and started reading. From the very first page, only critical information was present. Size and scope of the city, how its infrastructure was, how many people he estimated there were, and how their soldiers were armed. Everything checked out. The Demons were modelled after Aztecs in their blood rituals, architecture style, and general propensity towards being extremely viscous, but also pretty good at being a stable, strong nation. If they were allowed to ramp up and take a Citadel, they were going to be a steamroller. Vanilla and basic as far as endgame crises factions went, but they¡¯re the measuring stick against all other foes were measures¡­ along with tactics. ¡°This is the part where you tell me that you have the perfect plan to kill them all, Jack.¡±


    ¡°We need the slowed down, but we also need to go out there and find more facilities left behind by the Ancients. Leaving anything behind will just put it in the hands of the enemy once things get hot.¡± Khanrow nodded with my assessment, while I looked through his notes. There wasn¡¯t much in the lore about the Demon¡¯s infrastructure and society, so even the little tidbits gathered by Khanrow were interesting. That little thought made something occur to me. Hitting the enemy wasn¡¯t a possibility since they just technically spawned in, but here that wasn¡¯t the case. Our enemies were constrained by logistics, which meant we had something we could hit. ¡°I think that the best course of action lies in what I believe does not exist outside our lands.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Khanrow¡¯s brow furrowed, so I explained.


    ¡°How many flying creatures did you find while you were out there?¡±


    Khanrow¡¯s eye brightened as he realized what I was asking.


    ¡°None. They didn¡¯t have any at all.¡± That¡¯s right. Flying mounted creatures were a product of the Ancients. It was their method of making sure that their descendants had  the aerial advantage, while all infrastructure was destroyed. Bioengineered species that operated off of technology as much as magic. The flying Horses, Wyverns, and Gryphons were all made on this continent, had genetic memory to never go beyond, and to breed in large numbers to supply the Ancient¡¯s descendants. ¡°A bombing campaign, then?¡±


    ¡°No, even with bases on the mountains, it¡¯ll be too far.¡± It sounded crazy in my head, but I came up with something that could just be possible with magic. ¡°Not without a massive project that may very well fail.¡±


    ¡°Any risk is worth it, if we can cut off even one city close to our mountains. We¡¯ll extend their supply lines by incredible amounts, and they¡¯ll build defenses before sending out armies.¡± Khanrow insisted and provided some insights that didn¡¯t occur to me. He was right. I¡¯d thought about smashing a city or two to stop the enemy from having a forward base that was so close, but our attacks could also threaten the rest of their nation¡­ making them dedicate resources and counters to our bombing efforts, which could otherwise be used to make armies. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time to be cautious, at least against the foes beyond the mountains.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get to work on it and talk to our mages, scholars, and just about everyone vaguely useful.¡± We can make massive amounts of the lightweight, but very sturdy materials made by the Citadels now. Our economy was in good enough shape, especially since the fight against the corrupted Conquerors wasn¡¯t that bad, and we were developing their lands a lot quicker since we didn¡¯t have to deal with subversive elements like with the Scholars¡¯ region. With the latter cleaned up and the Conquerors working with us to develop their own, we should have enough resources to build, research, and maintain it. Right. Time to skip a stages in the HQ tech tree. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of a mobile platform, similar to what the Scholars had, but smaller¡­ that only needs to carry our bombing force and a few thousand soldiers.¡±


    ¡°¡­one of the legendary flying ships of the Ancients? Is it possible to make one?¡±


    No, we can¡¯t make spaceships, dude.


    Yet.


    ¡°No. Not those. Something more akin to the ships we use on the oceans, but fit for the skies. Think of a flying, levitating block, but simply scaled up to the extreme.¡± I lifted a book and cast magic on it, until it floated horizontally just an inch off my hand. ¡°Hollow within, for storage and troops, but on the top a long, controlled area for our knights to land upon.¡±


    ¡°Like your airlift from the Conqueror¡¯s Citadel, but without the large cargo.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± I lied, but went with his idea. No, I was thinking along the lines of a flying, light carrier. The unit didn¡¯t exist in the game, but flying HQs did. There were tons of mods that made the units possible, but they were considered unbalanced, because a mobile, flying HQ that can run away, which is defended by flying knights and mages and archers is kinda overpowered. However, in my case, it sounded like just what I needed to reign some hell down on some Demonic cities. ¡°It can even extend the reach of our expeditions and make them less dangerous.¡±


    ¡°I see¡­ very good. That might work. However, can we afford it with the build up of Guardians to man our borders?¡±


    I had the answer to that ready.


    ¡°No. We¡¯ll have to start it after the end of the next year, but in that time we¡¯ll do the research and test the feasibility.¡± This was a huge project, practically a Wonder. However, my transport system used about the same amount of resources as a Wonder, and it existed and provided benefits nonetheless. Why shouldn¡¯t I try again and see how far I can go with some more lateral thinking/stealing mod ideas to my benefit? ¡°I¡¯ll keep you updated on it, and it¡¯ll be my highest priority. I understand the need for it perfectly.¡±


    ¡°Good. Good.¡± Khanrow nodded twice and scratched his chin. He leaned back into his chair, while I dropped the book and put it back. He interlaced his fingers and laid them upon himself, just a bit below his sternum. If he had a big belly, he¡¯d rest it on that, but a year of living it rough made that sort of stomach impossible. ¡°Onto more important matters, then. How are you getting along with my granddaughter?¡±


    Hoo-boy.


    Yeah.


    I can see where this is going, and I felt like a train was coming my way while I was chained down the tracks, but I couldn¡¯t stop it.


    Shadow-ruler of four Citadels, freshly returned from another continent, and faced with the fact the world outside was filled with monsters, Khanrow had legacy in mind.


    ¡°She¡¯s capable beyond belief, one of my personal guards, and the finest Champion I could ask for. Without a doubt, any reason for her to be relieved of her duties would be a detriment to the land.¡± Still, I tried my best to rage against the inevitable. I cried in the depths of my heart for my dreams that would never come true. Alas, I shall never enjoy the company of tall, muscular women who could literally just pick me up to either hold me like a teddy bear or crush me with their bare arms. Yes, she¡¯ll either treat me like a cherished plush toy or just absolutely break my spine and kill me. I accept no compromises. I will take both, though. ¡°Where have you been hiding her and how did you train her? With a hundred more, we¡¯ll conquer the planet. Not just survive.¡±


    I was waiting for the sucker-punch that would be engagement to the big bad of the setting¡­ and it didn¡¯t come?


    ¡°Much of it is by her own volition. Ever since she could read and write letters, she¡¯s been training hard. She wants to survive. No, she wants to thrive in this world of ours, and ever since then she has been driven, calculating, and composed.¡± Khanrow eyed me up for a moment, before giving me a small bow. Not as a ruler, but as a grandfather. ¡°It¡¯s only after she came here and met you that she¡¯s begun to act her age, Jack. When I met her just a few days ago, I saw her smile for the first time, and laugh like a young woman¡­ not someone marching in defiance to her death. Thank you.¡±


    Huh.


    I guess that I was technically doing a great job and Morgan was able to be less worried about all the threats coming in every direction.


    Or, maybe, this was a long-con/psy-op on her part to make me drop my guard and make me think that she won¡¯t turn into a full-blown ultimate boss of a JRPG when given the chance.


    Mhmm, yeah.


    I¡¯m not going to fall for it. Still going to keep an eye on her and making sure she only gets jobs that she can¡¯t create power bases from.


    I¡¯m still going to take advantage of the goodwill, though.


    ¡°If there¡¯s anything truly good that we have both done, it is by giving people an idea to trust. The King of Wisdom is someone made up by you, Riegert, and me¡­ and he¡¯s a symbol that people can believe in.¡± I really wanted a massive robot that can traverse any terrain and shoot nukes at cities. I¡¯d even settle for a massive oil platform. Anyway, I might not be the greatest soldier, but I was sure as hell able to cheat and steal. ¡°We need to keep it up, no matter what, because in the coming days it¡¯s not our bodies or weapons that will fail us. It¡¯ll be our minds and spirits. More than anything, the King of Wisdom¡¯s duty is to safeguard the nation¡¯s spirit and keep people from falling into despair and madness.¡±


    I guess, technically speaking, you can call deciding the world should be put down can be considered madness.


    Personally, I¡¯d rather call it psychotic, but that didn¡¯t sound as venerable.


    ¡°I can¡¯t speak for you, nor Riegert, but I will do my part to the best of my ability. We each have our own part to play and each one is of immense importance.¡± That¡¯s right, buddy. I¡¯m part of a trio. It¡¯s not just you and Riegert. I¡¯m just as important as the two of you, and my decisions carry the same weight. ¡°Let¡¯s keep working together, Jack, until the day comes when you can get that retirement into luxury that you¡¯ve always wanted.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that, Khanrow.¡±


    Right.


    Picked up at eight, and now I¡¯m eighteen and nearly nineteen, but I¡¯ve secured my back from any knives and ensured that surviving will get me a peaceful retirement.


    Just need to put down a lot of good friends, kill many enemies, and survive multiple apocalypses first.


    Then, it¡¯s living near a beach surrounded by hot women who can snap me like a twig.


    Honestly.


    Might be worth all the trouble.

 V6: Chapter 1

    V6: Chapter 1


    ¡­


    Right.


    Time for my best enlightened tyrant impression.


    Lights!


    Camera!


    Action!


    The ten-year anniversary of the city''s founding arrived, and a festival was in full swing all around the region of Talon Hills. From the smallest town, all the way to the capital, a great and grand celebration was surging across our land. Our new banners were being presented. Our crow went through several design iterations, but now it was redesigned to better fit our people''s self-image as the good guys.


    Rich, bright blue backdrop with golden lining, against which was golden crow with outstretched wings at the center. One talon held a bundle of arrows and the other held an unopened scroll.


    Generic good guy banner is a go, and now it''s time for a generic good-guy speech to a massive crowd gathered at the city square.


    "My citizens, I am pleased to see you all in good health and in good spirits¡­ though I am afraid that being in too good spirits will bode ill for all your health!" I got dressed up for the occasion. As close to a full black suit as I could get with current fashion trends, but with a large cape/shawl thing in deep red with a massive furred collar. My hair also got long enough to be tied back, but it wasn''t. I was going for a glorious mane. Brown instead of the usual gold, but I''ll take it. Ah, right. It was also my nineteenth birthday. Yeah, we didn''t officially start counting months until the start of the next year of simplicity sake. Oh, and my real birthday wasn''t something I knew, so I just latched the date onto the anniversary. It helped with the mythos, and one nationwide festival is cheaper than two. That''s one less public holiday every year, y''know? "I hope that you''ll all restrain yourselves, or at least have someone beside you that can!"


    My icebreaker got a few chuckles from the crowd.


    They weren''t very good jokes, but I practiced, and I had Speech 101 under my belt, so I knew to swallow my disappointment and just get on it with.


    "Today marks the tenth year of our city''s existence. We were the first to raise our Citadel, and now we are the first to have four under our control¡­ with no other capable of comparing to our great nation." I was jazzing things up a bit with what I remembered from in my past life. By taking all the little bits I could remember from modern history classes, speeches from leaders, and binges into the unknown on media sites at 4AM, I composed something halfway decent for a commemorative event. "We have completed great works, secured our livelihoods and that of our children, but our work is not yet done. The lives of our children''s children are at grave peril for the foes of the Ancients remain and they have the world in the palm of their hand."


    That caused a fair bit of electricity to go through the crowd.


    We''d prepped the public with leaks of information, small articles published by the newspapers, and finally a formal statement that matters will be directly addressed today. Standard public opinion shaping operation. Little better than a small corporate business leaking that they''ll have a sale, putting up some ads, and making a formal announcement. My people weren''t used to the technique, of course, so they were proving to be a very receptive audience.


    "However, as mighty as our foes are, we hold key advantages ourselves. Expeditions into their lands show that they have regressed immensely in terms of technology, their usage of magic is limited, and while they own the land and the seas¡­ the skies are ours." Well, I was lying a bit, but I didn''t intend for the poison-using Harpy fuckers to get what they needed to ramp up. I''m finding their creches the moment they pop up and I''m smashing them with high explosives. War crime? They melt people into soup, and that''s what they and their younglings eat. Not to mention the fact that they''re sadistic rapists who kept people alive just to torture them. As bad as the Demons are, they just make living horrible and feed off of you for convenience. The Harpies make you want to die and stop you from doing it with a smile on their face. "Our ancestors have given us great gifts to ensure our survival and we will make use of it all¡­ and go beyond even their esteemed expectations!"


    That statement was the cue for trumpets, for rolling drums, and for the appearance of our air force high above.


    People back home loved flyovers, so I was sure they''d love this.


    The skies were filled with dozens upon dozens of flying horses clad in shiny, archaic armor and gleaming weapons. Their purpose was bright, shiny, and pretty for the procession, and they did their job. When I use them again, all that armor will be replaced by explosives for them to drop on the enemy.


    People in the square clamored and applauded at the sight. Children looked up with wide eyes, and their parents picked them up to see just a bit better. Even the oldest civilians, veterans of living in times of strife, couldn''t help but be a little awed by the flyover.


    Time to go for the throat.


    "The best preparations are being made! We will fight and they will die! We will not sacrifice the future of our people! We will not be the sole generations to benefit from these wonders! All of this, for all time, shall be ours forevermore!" With our mass of flying cavalry casting shadows onto the ground, glittering and awe-inspiring, I marched my words to war as much as I was able. I yelled out and lashed out with my words for all to hear, going as far as to bring both my gloved hands onto the table and lean forward to loom and brood despite all my spirit. The usual charismatic dictator move. "We will liberate ourselves from the shackles of the past. We will bring low all those who threaten not only our lives but that of our children''s children! We fight against a threat that will give us no quarter¡­ and, so, we shall give none in turn!"


    Final gesture and my signal is my finger pointed straight at the sky.


    With the sound of long horns resounding, my last prop for the speech came forth from where it hid above the clouds in the Citadel''s shadow.


    It was half-built, but all everyone below was seeing was the shining, pure-white armored hull of the massive flying ship. In actuality, the ship-shape was just shaped armor to receive attacks from below, and it surrounded a long, elongated box-like configuration. It may as well have been a flying, long box with a tower for coordination and signaling. Everything awe-inspiring about it was a fa?ade, just slanted and curved armor to deflect magic and projectiles form below, and all it was meant to do was carry my flying cavalry around in relative safety in the skies.


    But it was big, it was bold, and it looked strong.


    No one in the crowd thought otherwise.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I had more to say, but the crowds were already finished, cheering and clapping with overwhelming intensity.


    If I spoke some more, they''d quiet down, and it''d just be awkward.


    Did it take days to make, practice, and pull this event off?


    Yeah, but I can read the crowd just fine.


    ¡­


    "Jackie, that was absolutely wonderful! You had everyone wrapped around your fingertips." Khalai gushed, thankfully only with words, and came forward to give me a hug and a big, sloppy kiss with purple lipstick all over his lips. Instinctively, I took hold of his skull and held him back, while he reached for me and tried to drag me in. Nope. "Aw, no kisses even on your birthday?"


    "From you, no." I didn''t bother putting the guy down gently and gave Sirena a grateful nod as she pulled him back and away from me. "It''s nice to see you again, Khalai. It''s been a long time."


    "It wouldn''t have been so long, if you accepted my invitations. I even offered to meet you halfway in the cold, cold Citadel of Scholars'' Fall where we''d have no choice but to warm each other up~." Flirt is really the only dialogue option this guy chooses. I''d like to say that he was better dressed for the occasion, especially since we were holding the celebrations outside and it was nearing winter. Nope. Dude was rocking a tube top, gogo boots, furry armbands, and some fluffy earmuffs all in white and pink. No. I''m not acknowledging his crotch area. Boyshorts? Skirt? A goddamn sling? Don''t care. That part doesn''t exist. "But I am glad that you invited me to your birthday. I''ve got a lot to give¡­ and receive."


    I ignored him, he pouted, and we eventually both laughed.


    "I''m still after you, Jackie."


    I ignored that.


    "I''m happy to see you here as well, Khalai. I''ve heard great things from your lands. Well done." Khalai preened at my praise, going as far as to flick back ponytail hanging off his shoulder, and standing proud with chest puffed, shoulders squared, and hands at his waist. In the corner of my right eye, I saw two people walk into each other. In my left, a woman dropped her plate and nearly tripped. Sorry for the memetic hazard, guys. He''s kinda my closest ally. "How goes the research on the corruption that we sent your way? Have your miracles found purchase as I predicted?"


    Khalia nodded at that, almost appearing like the pope-equivalent of this world for a second, until he opened his mouth.


    "It was rough and hard work, but my priests and priestesses worked all through the night without any hint of rest, until the beast was subdued. It all happened just as you planned, Jackie." Everyone''s overhearing, and everyone''s thinking I set up some debauched orgy or something. It was tough keeping my face completely placid¡­ and it might''ve been the wrong move, since that just egged Khalai on. He pouted, he made his voice husky, and leaned forward to give the rest of the information in a whisper that passerby strained to hear. "But, yet, in the end we purged that Conqueror of corruption and brought him back."


    Revival after the body was purged of corruption.


    Just like in the game, it was an event that popped up for the Wardens after they fought against Demons. Corruption, at first, horrified them as it ripped them from their ability to revive. So, they got a mini-quest chain than involved crises of faith, questioning of how resurrection worked if mortal bodies could affect it, and maybe even lead to a schism and civil war.


    All of that would''ve interfered with my own plans and made too much of a mess to control, so I pointed them in the right direction. Remove all traces of corruption from the body, keep it under constant healing in a blessed shawl, and sanctify it as much as possible. Holy magic was tailor-made and passed down through religious doctrine to counter corruption and other key assets of the Ancient''s enemies, so of course it would work. All the factions could use it, even the Children of the Elm, but the Wardens were the best at it without a doubt.


    "If the Deliverer''s body is given to us, we can surely return him to his people."


    "I''ll extend the offer to Crusher and Conquest." They were busy rebuilding. However, with all our help and the fact that most of their outlying villages were untouched, the devastation of my bombing campaign was easily fixed. It was the loss of their military force that was the issue. They were handling that, while we took up the other sectors of their society. I was hoping to get as few Conquerors working in factories and agriculture as possible and focus them on being our main military force. Projections showed it''d take more than three decades, even under the best conditions, for them to replace our whole military¡­ but until then, I hoped to have a few thousand or so with every army group to act as heavy cavalry. "They will probably refuse, though. They don''t believe in bringing warriors back to fight once more. One life is more than enough, in their eyes."


    "But you don''t think so, do you, Jackie? We should be giving our utmost to face the accursed creatures that inhabit the rest of the world, no?" There it was. Even though Khalai was leaning forward with his hands tucked against the small of his back, pretty much acting perfectly cute, I saw it in his eyes. Complete zealotry. In his mind, keeping someone dead when they can fight against the enemy that threatened their paradise was nearly unacceptable. "Can''t you convince them, so that we have another great leader to aid us in our struggle?"


    Thankfully, I saw this coming.


    "I will ask the dead for aid when we need it. Beyond death is paradise, as you said, and I loathe the thought of pulling people from there unless they are truly needed." Khalai''s eyes brightened at my words. It was a perfect response. I didn''t belittle his belief. In fact, I used his own beliefs to carry my argument forth. "Let us hope that we can carry this struggle on our own backs first, then call upon them for aid. Your saints, like Sirena, made vows to return, but such is not the case for the Deliverer and many others. Such is not the case for others."


    "I see, I see. We must spread and have more follow our path and understand, before having them join us. That is true perfection, indeed." Khalai nodded and smiled. Those thoughts were going to change the moment they finished the final iteration of the Endgame wonder. From reports made by my people there, they were hard at work at the Cathedral. In a decade, they''ll unlock their victory condition and become an endless army hell-bent on turning this world into a peaceful tomb. "But, you are right. Let us ask for help when we need it first and not disturb those who have found paradise already."


    Mhmm.


    Good.


    Khalai won''t be desecrating the grave of the Conqueror''s version of Moses.


    That''s great.

 V6: Chapter 2

    V6: Chapter 2


    ¡­


    "Let me guess, there''s no progress in splitting the Wardens apart."


    "None with the current resources available. No." Ayah confirmed. "Especially since our people focused on finding the Academy."


    With four Citadels, I had a lot of funds and assets and people at my disposal, but with four Citadels that meant I had four Citadels worth of problems to handle. Getting the population of each region in line, routing dissidents, clearing Ancient Ruins, and setting up defenses against espionage were eating up my excess funds. My regular funds were all being used to keep spending on research and infrastructure high in all regions, as well.


    Even though I wanted to create a schism and stop the Dark Elves before they made the whole continent their enemy, and force me to completely destroy them, I was finding my hands tied.


    What''s that?


    Take some money from research and infrastructure and use it to create the schism?


    Absolutely not. Both of those things need to stay at their current pace.


    In fact, if I could spend more money to speed either up, I would.


    Not having all the best buildings and not having all the technology unlocked is a one-way-ticket to losing, so that was out of the question.


    "Well, then, let''s hope that making them our friends and influencing them will make sure we''re not targets." I shook my head and moved on. We were having our meeting in a countryside villa overlooking a lake. In-game, constructing Retreats on tiles with lakes and rivers gave happiness bonuses to the whole region. Given the fact I was pressing my people hard, making a Retreat town was necessary¡­ and I wasn''t below enjoying its offerings myself. "But we''ve got progress on the Academy front?"


    "Indeed. They are making use of the vast tunnel system beneath the continent." The subterranean tunnel networks. That was supposed to only be accessible with a T2 Wonder, where after you could rapidly move units from between Citadels and predetermined points in each region. The flavor text of the Wonder, if recalled correctly, was that routes throughout the system would be cleared out and a train network would be set up using a combination of magic and rediscovered technology. Not only that, but that Wonder could get upgraded to allow transport between towns and cities. It made sieges impossible, unless you burnt down every tile and town in a region. It was something I planned on making¡­ so, the Academy really had to die. That Wonder is mine, bitch. "It is a heavily infested system, but the Iterants have done their duty and have found the Academy''s trail."


    Guess having magic-based terminators as scouts was paying off.


    "Mass up a force of Iterants and find as many Forger mercenaries as we can, while also creating a second strike team led by our Champions. The Iterants and Forgers can be led by Morgan. The supplementary force by our new graduate with Rita and Ilych as support." I was tempted to do it myself, but I didn''t have any experience fighting in tunnels. That just didn''t exist in the game. Long corridors, choke points, and loads of neutral mobs? Yeah, no. I''m not heading in there. "Inform the Conquerors but tell them to only send their most elite and toughest. Cavalry won''t work too well down there, along with air power."


    Ayah nodded, and I took a moment to look over the resort town.


    The lake in the center was surrounded by beaches made through magic. Rental paddle boats floated lazily along it, and people fished from both docks and the boats themselves. People ate from stands that provided them with food free of charge, and stayed in cabins, villas, or one of the hotels. The hotels were just large, tall and wide rectangles with ornate facades and some decorations inside, but they were surrounded by small towns for recreation. Read a book in the library, eat at a restaurant, get your portrait made, or just do nothing but sleep all day. Visit ranch where you can pet animals and fly in a carriage pulled by flying horses. Go watch plays all day in one of the four theatres and have breakfast, lunch, and dinner in that theatre.


    Plan everything that you want ahead of time, or don''t and wait a few minutes after picking up a ticket.


    There''s plenty of space and accommodations, since it''s funded by a whole nation and not just a company with delusions of grandeur, while being exceedingly milquetoast.


    The resort was an all-expenses paid amusement park, one that cost a hefty sum to build even with all prefabricated parts, but it was doing its job exceedingly well. People worked harder to earn the credits necessary to come here. Like in the game, it was a reward for productivity, which I personally calculated as how much tax revenue you generated. Build up the points and you can live without worries for a few weeks¡­ while an Iterant learns your job and boosts production when you come back.


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    The Iterants were proving to be more incredible than they were in the game. They learned quickly, were inherently strong, and could use Citadel stock weapons with ease. The Lore had mentioned the Ancients having automated armies that were supplemented by Conquerors and Guardians, and I had a feeling that they were it. Since Ayah connected them with the AI that rebelled, that also fit with the lore of much of those automated armies going against the Ancients.


    Late-game events had armies of Iterants spawn if you had the Wonder that produced them. There were perquisites, though. One of which was if they were mistreated, so I was culling that possibility now. They had the same rights as people, weren''t segregated from everyone else, and paid the same wages for the same time spent working. They didn''t have to work harder, but they did, and they fit certain roles better than people did.


    Though, I did segue them towards places I needed them, like security, counter-espionage, and data processing.


    They''re just another set of people under my rule, basically.


    Everyone will be equally oppressed, until we all win, then I''ll retire and y''all can figure your shit out yourselves.


    Alright, that''s enough time resting my brain.


    "Next topic, then."


    "The project to utilize earth magics to turn hilly lands into terraced farmlands has succeeded. We can proceed with growing grains and groves, on many lands we could not before."


    "Fantastic."


    The better work that I do, the more work that I have, but I didn''t mind in the slightest.


    We needed every little thing we could get our hands on to win.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    I luxuriated in the lakeside in a private section of its beach.


    For the last four weeks, I was given leave, a villa to call my own, and servants to supply me with all my necessities¡­ within reason. In the first several days, I was at a loss at what to do, yearning for work, until I followed the advice given to me by my king.


    "There are times to work and there are times to rest. So, rest. That''s an order."


    With that in mind, even in my final day with all my luggage and belongings packed and my villa being cleaned for another, I was enjoying the soft morning sun on my skin while its light was kept out by tinted glasses similarly used by those who flew through the skies on mounts.


    I stretched out my senses and basked in them.


    All I heard for miles and miles was the sound of leaves rustling to gentle breeze, the soft flapping of bird wings, and the constant thrum of waves against smooth sand. Across the lake I could hear and see so many people living as they''ve never lived before, wanting nothing, enjoying everything that they can, or simply relaxing without a care in the world as I was. Children were granted leave with their parents, neither having to compromise on their rest and duties, as all were provided for with all that they needed to simply¡­ relax.


    Even the finest of our merchants had little to complain about in the resorts, and all were made equal in their assigned places and granted luxuries¡­ because everyone could simply have what they want.


    This was the world envisioned by our king.


    We worked and toiled, but we received protection from threats and the stresses of life.


    I fought for this¡­ and I found it good.


    So, when Ilych''s shadow fell upon me, I arose from the reclining chair without complaint¡­ and raised eyebrow at my partner.


    Covered from head to toe in a stripped diving suit and a snorkel, she held in one hand a massive fish and the other hand a fishing spear.


    I shook my head as she looked my way.


    Some would declare her eyes dull and unfocused, but I could easily tell that she was pleading.


    I covered myself in a towel while shaking my head.


    "Give it to the Antionette for processing and head to our transport. It''ll be prepared fine enough for dinner when we land."


    Ilych nodded once, which was the peak of excitement for her, and moved to hand her catch away.


    Once more I looked at the paradise built by our king, and felt satisfied knowing that one more was being built in each region we controlled.


    Here, and in all the others being constructed, everyone was creating memories worth fighting for.

 V6: Chapter 3

    V6: Chapter 3


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Horns blared a deep and clean noise, and at once the constant noise of horses at a gallop that filled my ears for the last hour ceased..


    There they were, in the distance, the largest army of monsters the world had yet seen.


    "Tormund, report." I brought the binoculars I held to my head to look upon the teeming mass. There were at least ten thousand monsters present, and they were moving in loose formations and with their own kind. Goblins in light leather armor carried shortbows and rode on the backs of wolves. Gigantic spiders skittered in small squads on the fringes of the army. Lumbering trolls made up the center and the front of the army, while feral undead lumbered and trailed after them as a mass of infantry. "What am I seeing?"


    Tormund rode beside me, a Necromancer specializing in the control of small, flight-capable familiars. I made use of his talents to pursue the army that we were shadowing, but his talents had many other uses besides.


    Such as finding the controller of this somehow-structured army of monsters.


    "I see it now. There''s a beacon of sorts where they are heading. It is a ruined tower of Ancient construction. It is covered in moss and dirt, like it is freshly arisen." Tormund rode his undead horse with his eyes closed and his pale hands clasped together. His robes were black and hemmed with a deep purple hue, but the luster it once held was gone. It was covered in many stitches and patches, and underneath it he wore full plate and had a helmet beside him. Even with all my knights surrounding us, in battles he too measures to protect himself. "I feel¡­ I feel¡­ no!"


    His shout made me look away from my binoculars and I found his half-skeletal visage wracked with pain and agony, but he righted himself before he could fall from his horse.


    "Report, Tormund." I ordered him, after he managed to catch his breath, and the grimace he gave rattled me.


    "There''s a true monster in that tower. Something with immense control over Undeath. We can''t proceed with this force alone. We are not enough."


    He did not name the creature, most likely wishing to not cause panic or foolishness, but I discerned what he was implying.


    "A Death Lord is our foe, then." The pieces fell into place and Tormund grimaced as even my retinue was shaken by the news. They were creatures of our past. Our attempt to regain glory and master death itself. Something which intruded upon the realm of divinity, but was beyond control. It led to a culling of many clans and nearly shattered us as a people. "The first seen in hundreds of years. Hopefully, this one is the last."


    "My lady, we cannot attack with this meagre force."


    "I know." After the last battle, I bid my retinue onward to follow the trails of power that flowed away from our defeated foe. With the strength and stamina of undying steeds, my retinue and I followed the faint wisps left behind by our foe, until we happened upon the massive army that we found. "Call for an orderly retreat."


    The horns rang out and my retinue turned about.


    However, I stayed fast, and so did Tormund along with a gathering of my closet aides and guards.


    Two of whom were a pair of Champions trained under our finest.


    "Mallory and Christine, I need eyes on this position, until I return. The two of you are the only ones strong enough to remain in these dangerous lands." They were twins of tremendous talent and skill. They rose from a pool of individuals with great potential, fought and won through a tournament of warriors, and finally earned the right to be sired by myself. Both were covered in head to toe in blackened plate armor burnished by blazing rubies enchanted by our finest to protect them against magics and many other forms of attack. Their purpose was to hold the line, to fight together, and withstand the sheer strength and power that can be unleashed by either Conquest or Ilych. Both of whom now were subordinate to Jack. Sometimes, it felt like a needed a dozen of the two. "Use this, speak my name, and I will hear you through our bond."


    I took off one of my earrings and gave it to Mallory, who gingerly accepted it.


    The connection between the sired and the sire was once said to allow our kind to speak to one another across even the vast distance between the planet and our now-shattered homeland. I was growing in strength, I was sure in the future I will able to do it without any assisting devices, for now I had to make use of artifact that we developed. It was a weapon we did our utmost to keep secret, one that we could use to move with utmost efficiency on the field of battle, but now was not the time to hesitate.


    Hesitation would mean defeat.


    "Your armor obscures you from those who see with magic, but you can still be seen by regular eyes. Stay distant, but get your eyes upon the tower Tormund described." I addressed them both directly as I they gazed at me with scarlet eyes between the visors of their helmets. They were strong, I knew that, but this opponent was beyond mere strength. Preparations needed to be made, so that it could truly be destroyed. They knew this as well as I. "Stay your distance, do not be detected, and gather information. Do not stray from one another, if you must do anything, even retreat, do it together. We cannot lose either of you."


    They nodded, and through our bond I felt their resolve and acceptance of their order.


    I could force them to accept, but I did not do so.


    After they accepted, I turned to Tormund¡­ who looked at me with a tired gaze and slumped shoulders.


    "I know that I ask much of you, Tormund, but we both know that it must be done."


    "And, I happened to accept the role of courtly mage." He grumbled, but sighed, and nodded. "I''ll make way to the nearest settlement and send forth my familiars. I will need your seal. Do we need to call upon everyone?"


    I read through his words.


    "Yes, everyone. Including the King of Wisdom. If this Death Lord calls upon the strength of monsters and undead alike, then we have no choice. This is a threat only all of us, together, can hope to defeat without suffering immensely."


    Tormund nodded and took my seal in his hands to give the letters he''ll send be under my name.


    Still, though, he advised me once more before I left.


    "If I were the King of Wisdom, I''d do nothing and let us all break our backs fighting this Death Lord¡­ and sweep through the rest of the continent."


    With that warning uttered, he urged his horse to ride away.


    Still, I was sure he heard my response.


    "I know, if I were in his place, that is what I would do." I shook my head and took control of my undead steed. "So, I know without a doubt that he''ll have a better plan than that."


    ¡­


    For fuck''s sake, I just put down a demonic incursion and the combat tutorial crisis pops!?


    That shit''s supposed to be delayed by at least a year, if something massive happens!


    Okay.


    Damage control time.


    Sarala was busy keeping my economy in the black, so I couldn''t send him out. Riegert was setting up for a new expedition and that was mandatory, since I needed information on other enemies and as many Ancient Wonders as possible. Ayah needed to stick around, because I needed someone to watch my back. Khanrow and his people were busy doing clandestine shit, and Ilych, Rita, and Morgan were going out to put the Academy down before they did something else stupid.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Leaving me with only one option.


    Well, two options, really.


    "Khalai''s still sleeping off his hangover, right?" The celebrations went on for a week and he''d partied it up every night, after I turned in after the first. Every time I went out to meet with dignitaries from cities and villages and fortresses in my territory, he''d be in the background strumming up a lute, playing a wind instrument, drinking, or dragging someone away to somewhere less conspicuous. Honestly, I respected the hustle. He was slutting it up, but he was making lots and lots of friends. "His delegation stayed the whole time?


    "Indeed, the High Justiciar and his retinue are still within the city."


    "Send a message to him that we need Sirena to help handle a Death Lord. I''m going to send word out to Conquest. She''s consolidating the Conqueror''s former holdings in Academy lands, right?" Since she was out of Citadel range, I couldn''t use a communicator slate to get to her. However, I could send an easy message over to Crusher, since he was now relegated to the backline. Death Lord found by the Guardians. Tens of thousands of monsters being mustered in old Academy lands. Need as much military strength as you can spare and Conquest. Meet at Conqueror holdings in Academy lands. Sent. I got a response in just a few minutes. ''Understood, our armies will meet at the Slayer''s Keep.'' And that was that. A text message and I can get armies rolling. Neat and convenient. "The Conquerors are on the move."


    "We cannot move our people." Ayah stated, and I nodded.


    "We can''t let our guard down, yeah." We were reorganizing our armies, building fortresses, and generally creating another layer of defenses facing the other factions and our borders with the outside. The announcement that the Ancient''s foes controlled the world was controlled, but that still meant that there was plenty of fear and trepidation going around. Our armies were busy moving in plain sight, clearing our lands of the last remains of wild monsters beyond a few key habitats for exploitation, which was intended to make our citizens calm. It also showed that we were capable of protecting them. Civil war and strife were the last things I wanted now. "But we do still need troops. We have supplies to spare¡­ but we''re going to need to call on the Forgers and the Merchants."


    With most of the fighting against the Conquerors utilizing militia, and the troops arriving there hardly being needed once the main source of corruption was put down, I had two full-stacks at the ready and the Citadels churning out a thousand Guardians each every year. My mortal armies were four thousand heavy pike, three thousand rifles, a thousand mages, a thousand heavy ground cavalry, and a thousand aerial cavalry each. Slap a general Champion on one, and I''m confident that either one of those two armies can take any force sent by any of the other Citadel Holders, especially with draftees added to pad their numbers.


    However, the issue was that the Death Lord was the tutorial crisis, but it was still a crisis. It flaunted this fact with the sheer numbers that we were dealing with. According to the Guardian''s reports, we were looking at nearly a million monsters. A million neutral mobs, building up territory and breeding grounds, and guided by something that could think.


    Lore-wise, this was all because the monsters were growing desperate due to continued eradication and destruction of their homes. They went and searched for a savior, found the Death Lord, revived it, and offered fealty in exchange for salvation. The Death Lord, being a crazy motherfucker with a god complex, accepted the offer and commanded them all to come to him. In-game, it was a neat way to explain why all the neutral mobs stop spawning/being free EXP and teaching everyone that the knives need to go away sometimes for everyone''s sake.


    In reality, it was going to be a massive challenge, especially if the Death Lord targeted me.


    I have no right to ask them for help.


    "We need shaping operations. Clandestine ones that''ll make sure the monsters will head away from our lands." Morally, the plan is awful. However, in regards to my duties as a leader of a nation and for the sake of survival, we all needed to work together. If the Death Lord beat one of the Citadel holders and took their lands, a nation of monsters would be constructed in that region. If you had mods, that faction could actually be a viable opponent, but in the base game with expansions they just ruin the region and never use the Citadel to its full extent. I couldn''t allow that to happen, especially with the real crises looming in the distance. Even if they were my opponents, they needed to be able to hold their own, or at least have lands that I could conquer that I could use. "Find as many mercenaries as you can and have them engage the monsters. I want bounties on every single monster out there. And, I want those groups infiltrated so that whatever tactics they use, they''ll lead the Death Lord''s forces towards the others, save for the Wardens and us¡­ unless it''s too obvious."


    How did that old, edgy quote go?


    There''s no such thing as good and evil on the world stage. Only national interests?


    Yeah, well, it still fucking feels horrible to give the order anyway.


    I''m basically directing disasters towards other people, so that I don''t have to fight it on my own.


    "I understand. Your will shall be done." Ayah nodded and accepted my order without question. She gave a small bow and left me alone with my thoughts. "I will go fetch Khalai and formally request aid from his people."


    With things set into motion, I let myself breathe a little and slump back into my chair.


    This was only going to get worse.


    I need to keep doing this, making horrible decisions that kill innocent people, if I didn''t take over the other Citadels and this political bullshit kept persisting.


    If I had all the Citadels under my control, if everyone on this continent was my subordinate, then I could turn this place into a weapon that could bring us all victory.


    But, that wasn''t the case, so I had to do this¡­ and I''ll have to keep doing it until I bring everyone else down and take their Citadels.


    That''ll take time, resources, and people that we couldn''t lose, too.


    That was why I wanted to make a schism in Khalai''s people and swoop in after both sides were weakened.


    Now¡­ even that plan looked too expensive in terms of time and resources.


    So, I guess, it was time for plan B.


    I''d been dreading it, but I couldn''t run from the fact that time was a finite resource, that I needed the Wardens'' Citadel, and that I was of age.


    I''m going to try and use marriage to get these psycho zealots off their path of performing ritual suicide on this entire world.


    No, I''m pretty sure that I can''t fix them, and that the divorce/civil war in the future is going to be fucking horrifying.

 V6: Chapter 4

    V6: Chapter 4


    ¡­


    I was ready to make a massive mistake in the future to fix a massive mistake in the present, but things turned out for the better.


    I think.


    Turns out that the Wardens didn''t take kindly to the existence of Death Lords.


    Nope.


    Not in the slightest.


    "This foul creature must be expunged from the face of the planet." Khalai didn''t mince words and had a glare on his face that was unusually serious for him. Sirena, who was usually quiet at his back, also had a frown on her face when the news on what the Guardians found was fully shared with them. "No, no. Absolutely not. Such creatures which rob souls from others and binds them to its will cannot be tolerated. Please, King of Wisdom, tell me that you have plans to march on this instant."


    I had plans to offer myself in marriage to whoever you pick in exchange for your armies and Citadel.


    But that doesn''t seem necessary at the moment, so I can keep in the back pocket for use against the Forgers or the Merchants.


    Hm, very racist wife that would NTR me with stud when given the chance, or a wife that will sell my darkest secrets for a gold coin.


    Yeah, I know.


    Both sound terrible, but they don''t come with guaranteed jihad/crusade-flavored civil war on the table, so they''re better by default.


    What''s that?


    The Guardians?


    Celia would sooner fight a Death Lord by herself than marry me. Every time she looks my way, she looks like she''s sucked on a lemon. I don''t know her exact deal with me is, but it''s definitely not relationship material. At the very least, with the hyper-racist and the gold-digger, I know that neither will murder me in my sleep.


    Whatever, I''ll think of marrying for power and influence and another Citadel later.


    Wait, Khalai was only offering his armies, so¡­ I guess the plan''s still kinda in play?


    Nope.


    I''ll think more about it later.


    "I''m marshalling my troops as we speak. The message has been sent to the nearest villages there to mobilize their reserves, while the Conquerors are moving, and as are my two armies." Khalai listened intently. If he wasn''t wearing his usual skimpy silks and jewelry, he''d look like a serious statesman. As he currently was, I felt like I paid an exotic dancer to listen to my power point presentation, because felt lonely. "Unfortunately, the constructs being produced by the Citadel cannot cross the mountains and so they shall have to suffice as a proactive force. So, I have decided to call upon all who would deign to lend their ear to an alliance against the Death Lord."


    And, I was going to lead the Death Lord''s armies towards the lands of those who don''t want to come, so they''ll have to join instead of watch me do all the work.


    I wasn''t going to tell Khalai that, though.


    "My people only have two armies of our own to offer, but my people will answer the call gladly to face this terrible foe that threatens the souls of all." Khalai proclaimed and Sirena nodded. The Wardens were effective against Undead because of their specialization in Holy Magic. However, for the life of me, I couldn''t recall anything in their lore about them hating Death Lords this much. My confusion must''ve been obvious on my face, because Khalai took note. "Is something wrong, King of Wisdom?"


    Yes.


    I''m aware of the fact that the High Justiciar or the Wardens of the Caverns was calling me by my official title.


    Well, I''m not below asking questions.


    "Your people are more hateful of the Death Lords than I expected. I see them as another, terrible monster. You see something else entirely. Why is that?" Fill in the lore bits, please. I want to know more. Also, just in case, I''d like to see if you''re lying to me by comparing and contrasting what I know to what you''ll say. I have no interest in getting played. "Your histories have nothing about Death Lords in them."


    "That is because they are anathema. Monsters that are best forgotten. The fruits that they offer never known. Their existence is known only to those who can withstand the temptation of immortality that they offer for it is a false one." Right. This sounds a lot like a sermon. This definitely didn''t sound like Khalai''s usual bubbly manner of speaking. Could be some sort of well-prepared con, but I highly doubted it as Khalai''s eyes were filled with fire and fury. "Long ago, we were ruled by Death Lords who lied to us about paradise in the darkness where we lived. They used us as slaves, and when our bodies were expended, they took our souls. Only when the first Justiciar came forth, eight hundred years ago, and discovered our true origins and magics did we rise up, break our chains, and expel all the Death Lords that lorded over us all."


    Right.


    Right.


    Riiighhhtttt.


    I have no clue if I''m being bullshit or not, but it seems like he''s telling the truth.


    So, either a zealot filled with immense hate, or the perfect actor striking at the perfect time.


    I was leaning on the former.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khalai


    ¡­


    The false prophets returned, just as we always believed that they would, as we neared our goal of reaching paradise.


    I walked through the halls of my dear friend''s Citadel, but my heart was filled with such fury that I could barely take note of it all. I had swooned over the rich carpets that provided so much color to the white floors, the paintings of vast landscapes that gave the harsh, sheer whites of the walls personality, and the various wooden furnishings and chairs when I first arrived.


    Now, I can barely pay them any more attention and even the speed of the lifts created by the Ancients was not fast enough to placate me.


    "Sirena, who amongst the Saints is the best-versed in fighting the false prophets?" We descended to the bottom of the tower at great speed, but barely felt as though we moved. The Citadels held by Jack were an entirely different construct compared to our own. People walked through it and navigated it to various offices and departments of attributed to governance without batting an eye. Even the longest-serving of my servants in my Citadel hesitated and looked at it with wonder still. Meanwhile, on some floors of Jack''s Citadel, there were shops and eateries and views of the outside that the public could access along with those that worked within. "We need to call upon them as soon as we can."


    "Genevive the Third Saint led the first successful rebellions against the heretics, and she swore that she would rise to fight against them once more once called." Sirena advised me, and I closed my eyes for a moment to recall. It had hurt to lie to Jack, to not tell him we failed many times before gaining our freedom, but such truths were for the truly devout. Only the Saints and only those higher than bishops. All others were told what would lift their spirits and drive them towards the faith needed to acknowledge our failings and faults as well as our successes and virtues. No. I could not dwell on such things now. "High Justiciar?"


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    I took a moment to stop and breathe, and when I finished, I felt the just anger bubbling within remain within my soul and heart, but my mind was much clearer.


    "The first successful rebellion led to our population halved. We cannot afford such fearless devotion, until our Cathedral has been fashioned its second spire. We need someone who can guide us to victory with experience and talent both." I looked around at the base of the Citadel. Unlike ours, it was open, a place of commerce and living. Stalls composed of the pure white-material of the Citadel were manned by common workers and shopkeepers selling simple, hearty fare at prices no different from outside the Citadel. Children played in sectioned off areas where the Citadel''s materials made slides and swings and platforms that children could spin and ride. Such was the same in the three other Citadels held by the King of Wisdom, I was sure. "As strong as we can become by relying on the gifts given to us long ago, we must become even stronger than that. I trust that our people will always choose to return from paradise, but the ritual itself, the journey it would take to return to the fight, and the time it takes to reforge new arms and armor¡­ all of it must be surmounted."


    Sirena paused at my words, before bowing after understanding.


    "It is as you say, High Justiciar. I will consult scripture and history both and find a more suitable Saint to call upon in this time of need." The Saintess spoke and I nodded at her words, but my mind was elsewhere as we left the opened gates of Jack''s Citadel and outside. Around our Citadel and between its defensive walls, there was nothing save for shrines and cleared land. We aspired to keep it a defensible place where our faithful could stand against any foe with our greatest castle at their back. Jack, meanwhile, surrounded its base with places of learning, with nurseries, and large storehouses of grain. Construction was constant, and in one case, they were digging deep to access pipes that our own Citadel did not yet have, from which clean water would flow throughout the entire city. "I have several candidates in mind."


    A thought crossed my own mind that gave me pause.


    Why did we remain only allies with Jack, instead of joining hands with him and binding our nations together, so that all could benefit from the way of life that I now saw?


    There were not only Descendants here, living their lives to the fullest with other suborned, but Children of the Elm, Conquerors, Scholars, Wardens, Forgers, Merchants, and Guardians. Much like the former Academy, many lived here, but unlike the Academy all were considered equal and not under the bootheel of the Descendants. The Children of the Elm were extracted from their terrible culture and history, but all others were allowed to practice their traditions and beliefs as they wished. Conquerors kept shrines to their ancestors, Wardens prayed together, Forgers kept to their strange practices, and Merchants plied their trade while Guardians took up roles as police.


    Wherever I looked, people were happy, industrious, and working towards ensuring their futures.


    Why did I keep my people away from this when I could simply give Jack the ring upon my finger?


    What did my people stand to lose, if we joined him?


    Try as I might to find an answer, I couldn''t find one, yet still I couldn''t force myself to do it.


    The thoughts refused to leave my mind, as I headed towards the chateau given to me and my people for the duration of our stay.


    Already, we were marching together in another conflict.


    Already, our people travelled freely between each other''s lands and trade.


    Already, I treated his capital like another home.


    What did I fear which kept me from joining Jack''s banner?


    It didn''t take long for the answer to arrive as I entered chateau, as at the top of the grand staircase that led to the second floor, was my people''s triumph. Our armies marching together, all sects united under a single banner, to take back our past and protect our future. I and many others rallied under the simple message and belief that if we did nothing, our people would be scattered amongst the true rulers of the continent and our fates would at the whims of tyrants. If we did not strike, if we did not sacrifice, if we did not fight and take our Citadel, then we would become nothing more than another race under the rule of another.


    To simply bend the knee to Jack, without fighting against him and without suffering from a great tragedy which forced him to save us, was something I could not do for that singular reason. I would spit on the sacrifices made barely a decade ago to attain our Citadel, if we did not try to become ourselves a nation worthy of respect.


    And, there was no greater moment to shout to the world that we were ourselves a people, by bringing low the false prophets.


    "Sirena, I wish to call upon all the Cardinals and I wish for a message to be sent to all our shrines and temples across the nation entire." I stopped to speak to Sirena at the apex of the grand staircase, beneath the painting of our people''s greatest triumph, when we took our Citadel from a great of horde of monsters that gave even those with Citadels pause. "This will not be a mere war by our nation. It will not be a simple call to arms. This is against a foe that we have sworn to defeat, and the moment where we will prove ourselves peers of the King of Wisdom''s nation."


    Sirena understood my words and knelt.


    As did all the guards and servants who came with us, as they were all faithful.


    I gathered my breath and extended my hand to bless all who would hear me, thus I made a declaration.


    "I, High Justiciar of the Wardens of the Caverns and granted the title of Merciful, Khalai declare a crusade against the false prophet that has arisen at the heart of this continent!" It was not enough to simply call upon the armies that we had, or the people of our lands. No. The only thing that would suffice would be all those who believed in our just cause. "Let it be known today that today the continent shall be sanctified by the blood of martyrs, that from the flames of righteous war soldiers shall be reborn as immortal saints, and that we shall fulfill our pledge to our ancestors long ago¡­ that paradise will be given to all peoples of the world unstained by falsehoods of heresy and the enemies of our people!"


    Today is the true beginning of my people.


    Today we rise to match all others.


    Today we will make our bid to craft our own future against all others.


    Even the King of Wisdom.

 V6: Chapter 5

    V6: Chapter 5


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    Morgan, the granddaughter of Khanrow, reminded me of Ilych. Both were strong and capable Champions with keen minds and immense potential. Where they headed in battlefields, if there was no Champion to oppose them, only ruin and destruction awaited those they faced. Though one was clad in armor from head to toe, and the other wore armor behind a heavily enchanted coat, both existed as nigh-unstoppable individuals wherever they tread.


    However, there was a stark difference between the two.


    Morgan had a certain cruelty to her that Ilych did not.


    ¡°Oh, Rita. Just the woman I wanted to see.¡± Through the Ancient networks constructed by the Ancients, we hunted the remains of the Academy. Above ground the drums of war beat and all were allying against the threat of a great and terrible Death Lord at the head of an army of monsters and beasts. We were instructed to continue our mission, but to return once we completed our duty or found ourselves without further trails. Once that command arrived, Morgan revealed her true colors. ¡°I have good news!¡±


    On the surface, she looked like an ordinary young woman with large glasses, messy hair, and a bubbly smile. The baggy, large coat she wore with voluminous sleeves and a large hood was scholarly in nature and filled within and without with pockets. It hid her weapons and armor beneath her body, thus at first glance she would seem like any normal young woman.


    Then there was the hacksaw she held in hands covered in blood and the puddle of blood upon which she stood.


    The good news she proclaimed was courtesy of the creature we had captured at her behest in our last melee.


    It was once a goblin, but now resembled a mass of flesh and bone bereft of skin on a raised table. From idle study, I sensed necromantic magics present in the mass of flesh, as well as normal healing magics. The creature straddled the line between life and death. No. Both those magics were anathema to one another, and their presence in the creature must have been agony. Upon its body were signs of places being cut, hewn, or sawed. At the bottom of the table, there lay innumerable hunks of meat, easily totaling more in weight than the creature we captured.


    ¡°I managed to breach the mind of this goblin shaman. Quite the tough cookie, but even the strongest tend to give up when faced with this much pain forever.¡± It was a mockery of immortality. Flesh would grow forever due to healing, then that would be eaten away by deathly magics coursing within the flesh trying to make what died alive. Morgan washed her hands of the blood she spilled, and before my very eyes, from the cuts made by the young woman there were new limbs being made¡­ rotting and alive at the same moment. The cruelest half-life imaginable used to break the defenses of the mind. ¡°The Academy¡¯s in this sector.¡±


    All for the sake of information of the absolute greatest import.


    ¡°How are they traveling?¡± I spoke, and Morgan took idle note of my discomfort and with a gesture sent a knife through what must have remained of the creature¡¯s mind. It died in moments, its misery ended, and I breathed a sigh of relief. However, in the back of my mind, I knew that she killed it simply to ensure that I would hear all the information she deemed important. ¡°And, how many are there?¡±


    ¡°They are using an ancient machine designed to travel through these systems. They power it through magic and wherever it goes, it powers hidden systems within the walls, which allows it to move near-frictionless across the tunnels.¡± Morgan held out her hand and sand from a pouch she kept moved to illustrate what she described. After Ayah showcased her ability to shift her material composition to show images, Morgan had trained and learned to do the same with another medium. I looked upon what looked like a series of linked carriages the size of houses that levitated off the ground. ¡°It moves quickly, but it hampered by lack of fuel. The Academy uses monsters as sacrifices to power it¡­ which is why these are not with the rest of their gambit.¡±


    ¡°Gambit?¡± I asked, and Morgan looked pointedly at me. I knew that she was gauging my intellect and ability, but I just shook my head. ¡°Morgan, there is only one person who can outthink you. I am not our king.¡±


    ¡°Hm.¡± A sound. That was her response to my statement, but she untensed at my words. There was only one reason why the two of us could work together. It was the simple fact that we both had faith in Jack.  Her methods were extreme, but she carried them out with reason and purpose that aligned with my own.  She knew of my own loyalty, therefore she tolerated me. Thus, she and I could understand one another. ¡°Their gambit is the Death Lord. The latest threat to the established powers, of course, is yet another fabrication of the Academy. It is their latest attempt to seize control of a Citadel, after they failed with the Conquerors through their cursed blade.¡±


    ¡°¡­You had suspicions, but verified them through the memories of the creature you interrogated.¡±


    ¡°Correct. A monster of myth unseen in centuries, their method of creation unknown, coming into being marshalling armies of monsters across the land¡­ just a few years after the Academy¡¯s fall?¡± Morgan explained, and I listened carefully. She created another image from the sands she controlled in the palm of her hand. It took on the figure of a skeleton swathed in ragged robes walking out and away from the massive vehicle that the Academy used to travel the underground system left behind by the Ancients¡­ where so many monsters had dwelled. ¡°Either they created it, or they had it hidden in their capital for study, and it broke out at its destruction. Through the memories of the shaman, I discerned it is the former.¡±


    I considered the information carefully, before speaking again.


    ¡°Can we somehow usurp their control of it? This creature would be a great weapon for the future.¡±


    Morgan made an approving nod at my question, like a teacher pleasantly surprised at a student. I swallowed my pride and indignation, especially as she seemed earnestly pleased with my question.


    And, most likely, she knew that discerned exactly that.


    She was only ever truly honest and without duplicity around our king.


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    ¡°I¡¯ve discerned no method of control from the memories of our captive, but the Academy would have to be fools to unleash something like this without a method of control¡­ but also without a method to destroy it themselves.¡± Morgan explained and once again manipulated sand to create another image. This time it was the strange, flying metal craft we¡¯d found rumors and reports of in the Conquerors land. It landed near the vehicle and from it came a nondescript Champion clad in all black to which all the monsters following the Academy¡¯s vehicle supplicated. ¡°Whoever and whatever this creature is, it is the Academy¡¯s method of controlling monsters and we need to either kill it or capture it. Preferably the latter.¡±


    I took idle note of the veritable army of monsters protecting the Academy¡¯s transport, and our new target, before making my decision.


    ¡°Very well, come up with a plan to do just that, and tell me what you need, Morgan.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have a plan ready in a moment.¡±


    Matters such as these were best left to individuals such as Morgan and our king.


    ¡­


    There are stages to every crisis.


    The first stage involves the initial attacks that occur on the borders of your territory. A few thousand monsters here and there without any Champions leading them. They¡¯ll go through your territory, mess up tiles, and hit a settlement. Fortresses, techs, and policies that increase enemy attrition rates in your territory can deal with them, especially since they lack supply lines and need to pillage agriculture tiles or undefended settlements for food.


    So, the strategy to ¡®kill¡¯ the first wave the same as surviving regular crises. Keep population centers and agriculture in the inner area around your Citadel. Fortresses and industrial districts where you can build stuff can go on the outermost areas. They can take the damage, hit back, and with the proper policies and technology, the enemy won¡¯t get anything from taking them.


    That¡¯s the design of my cities in my regions¡­ and it was mimicked by everyone else.


    Did they copy my design?


    Probably not.


    Everyone with Citadels at their disposal came from an era of strife, so they knew how to protect themselves and fortify their positions.


    Therefore, there were no issues regarding the first waves for just about everyone involved.


    There were, however, other issues.


    Such as everyone going off to do their own thing.


    ¡°They¡¯re all just going out there like a herd of frenzied cats.¡± There was a strong response from the everyone when it came to the Death Lord. Armies from the Merchants, Guardians, Wardens, and the Forgers came forth from their settlements in the Academy¡¯s old lands, and they were engaging in some preemptive retaliation i.e. killing shit before it turned into a problem. ¡°Are they even making progress, or are they just getting themselves killed trying to win?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re functioning well, but only after a few near-defeats from which they had to learn from.¡± Ayah stated simply, and I simply restrained myself from banging my head against the nearest wall. I wasn¡¯t in my Citadel, but instead taking up residence in a manor in my settlement on the Academy¡¯s old lands.  I couldn¡¯t act as I wished, because to do otherwise would ruin my public image. Why did I care about how I looked to other people? Because, the concept of the King of Wisdom was more important than me now. ¡°Our planned efforts to move the enemy away from our territory needn¡¯t be implemented. They are doing that themselves.¡±


    ¡°Good for us, but it¡¯s still too bad for them.¡± I wanted everyone to get dragged into this fight, because that was the most assured way of getting this fight done quickly. Kill the Death Lord and the event ends and we can all get a few turns of nothing happening where we could all just turtle up and focus on our economies. However, from what we were seeing courtesy of our Iterants that could seamlessly blend into the armies of our opponents, everyone else wasn¡¯t fighting as well as they should. Too many people were dying and getting injured. ¡°How are the preparations going for the bombing campaign and how are our defensive preparations?¡±


    ¡°We expended most of our munitions at the battle against the Conquerors and our Citadels are focused on creating an army that can hold our territory.¡± I grimaced at Ayah¡¯s statement, but made no comment. Our hands were still tied by the production order for Guardians to secure our lands. I could stop the process halfway, but that would put my territory at risk. I couldn¡¯t do that, even at the cost of more lives lost in this campaign. ¡°Therefore, the munitions need to be manufactured by mortal hands. It will take months before we have a sufficient stockpile that we can unleash as planned.¡±


    ¡°Make sure that they meet the deadline, but not at the cost of lives. We need as many experienced hands as possible and make sure to promote managers that streamline the workflow.¡± Better weapons could be automatically manufactured later, but I wanted militia to have bombs available to them¡­ and I wanted to strike enemy cities and stifle any supply lines coming our way. To that end, I needed far more than what Citadels alone could produce. I needed factories producing the bombs and incendiaries, just like I¡¯ll eventually need artillery shells and other munitions. In the future, the fabricators of the Citadels will be making near-artisan, bespoke weapons, armor, and munitions for my professional armies, while the drafted will be supplied with weapons that we could make ourselves. ¡°How about our defenses?¡±


    ¡°The gatehouses are all fully functional and the tunnels have been lined for collapse. Our settlement in this land is being heavily fortified as we speak, and evacuations are completed.¡± Since the Academy was no longer using the continent¡¯s richest farmland, we¡¯d gone ahead and started exploiting it after it fell. The famine was my claim to seizing the land, but in all honesty, I just wanted more tiles to exploit for more resources. Anyway, the people lived in hamlets and they were just there to work the land. I told them to leave, come back to civilization, and so they left by my command as I was the one paying them to be there in the first place. ¡°We are also ready to scorch all that is currently unharvested to deny the supplies to our foes.¡±


    ¡°Make it so, and ensure that we extract the necessary supplies from storage to make up for the loss.¡± This was a necessary tactic in-game, too. If the enemy got onto an improved tile and pillaged it, then they¡¯d get five turns worth of its output with all the improvements, technology advancements, and Champion bonuses applied to that tile. In the early game, looting and raiding was pretty much a waste of time, however we were now in the mid-game where it became strategically important to destroy your own lands after taking all that you can carry. You can fund whole campaigns and supply armies on looting alone, and your enemies could do the same. ¡°What about the mercenaries we planned to use?¡±


    ¡°As you instructed, the newest bands are being the greatest risk and offered high rewards, while the most established are given the same option and safer positions.¡± Mercenary loyalty was a stat in the game. If you had enough reputation, you could buy mercenary companies out, but they¡¯d have low loyalty until you start feeding them gold. Higher the veterancy and higher the tech tier means more expensive mercenaries, more so than regular troops, but they handled their own supplies and with the right investments they didn¡¯t who up on the map with your faction¡¯s colors and affiliations. Needless to say, they were assets that I needed, so I was currying favor with the strong ones and keeping an eye out for the ones that performed well. ¡°And, amongst their number, I found a suitable candidate as a prospective leader of our future¡­ unaffiliated force.¡±


    Ayah went through the documents in my ¡®in¡¯ pile and handed me a folder gingerly.


    I raised an eyebrow at what I found.


    Mostly because the person in question fit the mold for one of the Children of the Elm¡¯s possible leaders, but here he was playing mercenary lord.


    ¡°Interesting, keep an eye on this¡­ Scholar of the Lost.¡± He even kept his title. Was this guy using mercenary work to set up a possible return of his faction? ¡°Investigate him thoroughly. We can use him to guide the mercenaries if he has no plans to use them against us in the future. If he does, kill him and find a replacement.¡±


    With a word, I put a sword at someone¡¯s neck hundreds of miles away and no one present even blinked at my declaration.


    ¡°Your will shall be done, my King.¡±


    Like I said, the King of Wisdom is more important than Jack.


    And, in all honesty, I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.


    Makes it far easier to abdicate.

 V6: Chapter 6

    V6: Chapter 6


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ...


    Endless.


    I thought I understood that word before the battles against the Death Lord began, but now I truly understood what the word meant.


    The battles against the Death Lord''s forces may end, but the war did not ever stop.


    My war table was filled with a hundred records of engagements against the enemy''s forces¡­ and it was only from the current week.


    "The more I look, the more untenable our position seems." My command tent was bereft of my officers and even my Champions. My only companion was my teacher and she hovered nearby. Her concern was apparent on her dignified features. "Catherine, we need advantageous positions. No. We need as many advantages as we can muster."


    "We are moving as fast as we are able, but there is not much that can be done without giving ground as the King of Wisdom did." News had spread quickly about the King of Wisdom''s strategy in this conflict. He pulled away from all the smaller settlements and hamlets he established to exploit his section of the Academy''s region. Then, when the evacuation was completed, he burnt all that could not be harvested and carried back to safe lands. The Conquerors and Wardens had followed suit, even as the Forgers and Merchants jeered at them both for conceding lands that they could keep with effort. Our silence and continued defense had been our own retort. Now, all three of us were stretched thin. "And, as we are already embroiled in constant conflict, we cannot extract as much of our assets as he did. The cost will be higher."


    "We cannot afford the cost of keeping the lands." We took more of the Academy''s lands than any other, as we had the numbers to do so. Our held territory was thrice the size that held by the King of Wisdom and another singular nation. The food we harvested, the mineral wealth we extracted, and the artifacts we gained from continuous scavenging had been essential for our growth. This place fueled our building back home. Now, I had to face the fact that we had to be without it. No, it is much worse. I would have to destroy it to prevent it from invigorating our enemies. "Yet, we can also not shoulder the cost of leaving them."


    Catherine nodded.


    "It is a dilemma, indeed. I wish that could provide a better answer, but there is truly none." Catherine did not mince words. "At least, not without conceding to others."


    "They know that we need their help." Catherine nodded at my statement, while my fists clenched and I braced myself over the large map of the territory that I held. Four months ago, I held it with pride. It was providing me the same number of resources as two Citadels after refining and processing and trade. Through the exploitation of this land, my people were flourishing and we could set our sights on fighting against the Merchants or the Forgers for their Citadels. Four months ago, I had hoped that I would one day control three Citadels and be able to court the Wardens away from Jack, until we finally stood shoulder-to-shoulder. Now, those dreams were ash. "They will ask for too much."


    "The Forgers and the Merchants, yes. However, the Wardens are a firm option¡­ as is the King of Wisdom, despite your personal misgivings."


    I shook my head at Catherine''s chastising words.


    "Catherine, I would rather pay the extortionate prices of either the Forgers and Merchants than owe a favor to the King of Wisdom. All he''s ever aided and helped fall in lockstep with him." The Conquerors were now his, and the Wardens were all but under his control. He wielded generosity and kindness like a weapon. I could not deny the virtue and righteousness of his actions, but I could say for certain that we would lose ourselves to him if we accepted all that he offered. "We would lose any chance to choose our own path forward, if we open ourselves to him."


    "But what is more important? The people of the nation or what the nation stands for and pursues, Lady Adil?" Catherine questioned, and I answered steadily after raising my gaze from the map filled with so many markers for foes and so few friends.


    "The nation is its people, and the people are the nation. If they cry out for the King of Wisdom, for him to save them from my tyranny and from all that they fear, I will abdicate in an instant. However, they have done no such thing." To those words, Catherine had no retort in favor of bending the knee to the King of Wisdom. If there was anything I could be truly proud of, it was the fact that my people lauded me. They carried out celebrations in my name, took pride in my achievements, and believed in our just cause. "Catherine, you know why we seized the Citadel. You know how much we sacrificed to take our Citadel. It is that sacrifice and effort and our belief in ourselves that has unified us. Without that, we are just a myriad of clans that will splinter and break apart once again."


    Catherine took a moment, but my teacher sighed and nodded enough at my words.


    "The true cost of the King of Wisdom''s aid is our shared identity then. Yes, I see that. I see that quite well, in fact." Catherine admitted it carefully and scowled like she was suffering through the most bitter of brews, but she managed to share her thoughts on the matter completely. She shook her head and returned to the topic at hand. "The Wardens, then? We can ask them for aid, surely. They hate the Death Lord."


    "The price will still be steep, but our people are¡­ not quite receptive to their culture." Khalai, the High Justiciar, curried favor through diplomacy, trade, and cultural spread. Only the King of Wisdom''s nation could complete and they worked hand-in-hand with the cult of the Smiling Tyrant to conduct numerous plays and festivals throughout their lands. Jack could only keep his massive nation from falling to the Warden''s pervasive culture by expending treasure at rates only he could manage. Meanwhile, the Merchants and Forgers were trading more and more heavily with the Wardens and movement between the three territories was free. They were losing the hearts of their people. "We can offer them open trade and movement through our lands for their people in exchange for their help. However, we should still make contact with the Forgers and Merchants, perhaps their price won''t be as steep as we believe."


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    Catherine nodded at my words, getting ready to carry out my commands, but she paused after a moment and looked outside.


    She went completely invisible, as a messenger came forth from outside the command tent, with a letter in hand.


    The same letter that I received long ago at the start of a famine.


    Not even half of a decade had passed since then, yet the Council of Kings still seemed fresh in my memory.


    "Messenger from one of the black riders of the King of Wisdom, Lady Adil!" The messenger was out of breath. We had no landing locations in our camp, so the young man must have ran here from the camp''s entrance, which was quite a distance away. "It has the King of Wisdom''s seal!"


    "Thank you, lad, give it here." I took it from the young man and he hesitated before leaving. I did not bid him to stay.


    Catherine returned to being visible as I opened the letter and read it through.


    "A unified front, like the famine. I see. The Death Lord and its forces are indeed closer to a disaster that everyone must face together." Catherine stated and I could only nod. Why had this path not occurred to me? It circumvented my concerns and placed everyone as equals on the same table. No. I could not lie to myself. I knew why I hadn''t called for this. I could not. The reputation, the influence, and the power¡­ none of it were mine. "Is something wrong, Celia?"


    I had to take a long, measured breath before I spoke.


    "If I were in his place, I wouldn''t have done this." Jack held the position of superiority. His lands in the Academy were a passing investment. He had four Citadels interlinked and their surrounding lands at his disposal. Half the continent was his, and all this place provided him was farmland. If I were in his place, then¡­ I would have seen Death Lord ravage my foes before acting. "He places himself as our equals, as someone who has something to lose, and he will be forced to march and fight when he needn''t do so¡­ he could watch us all bleed and wait for us to plead with him for aid, but here he is."


    I couldn''t muster the strength to look for a seat and just elected to sit on the tarp covering the dirt of our command tent.


    That single move alone made me recall our campaign together, where he commanded from a replica of his office in a manor made overnight filled with servants.


    This is why I couldn''t ask him for help and accept what he offered.


    Already, from memories alone, I felt inadequate as a leader.


    How would I feel if I actively sought his aid and he gave it freely?


    Would I not fall into the same trap that the Conquerors fell into?


    ¡­


    For the love of god, don''t leave me on read, we have a literal calamity on our hands.


    A calamity that can wreck so much shit that we''ll have no chance at winning later!


    "I sent out our best messengers, right? They all know that my black riders are there to stay until they respond, right?" I muttered, and Ayah chuckled beside me. We were at a newly-built fortress made through a combination of a magic earthworks and prebuilt equipment. It had a moat, four walls, and four towers. The towers were for artillery and anti-air efforts. We weren''t at the level where we could deploy castles instantly on the field, but we were on our way there. "Why aren''t they here yet?"


    "It has been a day. Your declaration will take time to process. Also, unlike Lady Adil and High Justiciar Khalai, the leaders of the Forgers and Merchants have yet to reach the front." Ayah served me tea, while I sat at one of the towers emplacement locations. We now had Conquerors who could handle the cannons that could handle the ''small arms'' produced by the Citadels. Four Conquerors per tower utilizing the massive, bolt-actions weapons was an intimidating prospect. The fortress was designed to support the efforts of eighty all along the walls with humans mostly working to ferry ammo from the center storehouse within. In truth, it was less of a fortress and more of an anti-air battery that could be turned onto ground targets. "We will have to wait a fair amount of time."


    "The more time that we use, the stronger the Death Lord gets." I was tempted to bite my thumb, to stomp my feet, and growl in frustration. However, instead, I just relied on talking calmly and expressing myself as clearly as I was capable. The King of Wisdom can''t be the kind of person who breaks keyboards or rages about inconveniences. "We''re going to need to act. You said that they''re sourcing most of their monsters from the Ancient''s underground pathways?"


    "The monsters travel through those places, yes. They use service exits and stations and old structures to reach the Death Lord." Ayah relayed information and I listened. It was like listening to a wiki read aloud. Factual and dry, but informative. The Ancient Administrator earned a lot of looks for its delivery, since it was covered up completely in pure-white armor without any markings. No one knew it in its current disguise, so they were surprised to see someone speak to me so casually. "If we wish to intercept from reaching the Death Lord, we must wage war beneath the tunnels before they reach the exits into the territory of the Death Lord."


    I knew better than to ask if we could collapse those structures.


    First, we needed them later to move our troops at a decent speed across the continent.


    Second, it was made of the same material as the Citadels, meaning that specialized equipment would have to be brought over like the Conqueror''s siege engine meant to take down Citadel gates.


    And, that machine was built to batter open a gate.


    Not a solid piece of Ancient material forming a tunnel system whose thickness we had no way of knowing.


    That left me with only one real option.


    Poison.


    I''d hoped that I wouldn''t have to use it this early, but it was safer to use in the tunnel systems than above it.


    "Send a message back to our capital and contact the Alchemist guild. Tell our auxiliaries to begin boarding up the entrances of the tunnels under our control, too." Ayah seemed to grow still at my words. The golem knew what I intended to do, however, whatever brutal form of calculus it used to quantify what needed to be done kicked in. This move made perfect sense with that in mind. "Call up our division of Iterants in training, as well. This will be the perfect battlefield for them."


    "Your will shall be done, my Lord."


    In-game, Iterants were immune to poison and that made them perfect troops for whoever was using Poison area of effects.


    Generally speaking, if a player who rolled the Iterants didn''t quit, you could assume they were going to use Poison.


    As for me, I''d started production of the first tier of Poison even before I got the Iterants, because it was just too strong to ignore and I needed any advantage I could get.


    So, now, I was going to leverage that advantage to fill the tunnels leading into the Death Lord''s lands with thick clouds of gas designed to ruin lungs.


    It was time to see if my bet on poison was going to pay off.


    Let''s see how strong it is without being limited by the devs.

 V6: Chapter 7

    V6: Chapter 7


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    The ruin we were supposed to enter was surrounded by a procession of monsters composed of many tribes and creatures. Feral analogues of the Goblins and the Beast tribes stayed close to one another, while herds and packs of immense wolves and spiders skittered or loped into the structure. Hulking ogres and even more immense trolls lumbered as groups of three or five clad in ramshackle clothing into the ancient ruin. Harpies flew above, chittering to one another in animalistic tongue, and swooped in as flocks into the darkness below to join their new master.


    An undead creature of immense power and might who had under its control tens of thousands more, which it was training, armoring, and arming with all that it could scavenge from the Academy¡¯s former lands.


    Thankfully, the number we had before us was well within expectations.


    ¡°Chieftain, Holdfast¡¯s group has sent a message. They¡¯re ready.¡± Breaker spoke, and I turned my gaze to him. Like myself, he was covered in a cloak that muddled his outline hid his shape against the forest that surrounded us. Beneath it he wore and armored vest upon which was a bandolier of explosives. Around his waist was ammunition stored in clips, which would fit in the weapon the Ancients created to aid us in future battles¡­ or perhaps they were the weapons our people used to wield. Most of the Conquerors deployed in combat now were of my command and our weapons and armor were all from the Citadels. ¡°Once you give the signal, we will lay waste to these monsters.¡±


    For a moment, I was tempted to turn and look at my forces¡­ but I knew that I had no need to do so.


    I kept my gaze forward, before raising my hand into the air, and casting a bolt of lighting into the air which was followed by the howl of thunder.


    Our enemies all looked our way, nearly a thousand monsters, against our force barely a hundred strong.


    Yet, I had no reason to be concerned.


    ¡°Front rank!¡± Breaker cried out, just as the path leading to the ruin suddenly exploded and our detached force engaged the monsters streaming towards the ruin. Holdfast¡¯s forces were to our east and the moment the attack was declared they engaged our foes. The din of cannons filled the air, a constant drumbeat of accurate fire, with shells that exploded and sent searing shrapnel in every direction from where they struck. Just as we were going to do. ¡°FIRE!¡±


    With my training to battle at speeds in which Champions fought, where the fluttering of insect wings slowed to a crawl, I watched the shells fired by twenty of my soldiers fly. Each one left rifled barrels and spun in the air as they flew towards their targets. Each shell carried an explosive which could not be replicated by even the greatest alchemists under the King of Wisdom. No larger than a finger within the spinning shell of steel, yet our whole doctrine was formed upon its ability to explode and kill anything within two meters of where it hits and wound anything within five.


    My soldiers struck true, and the parading force of monsters were engulfed in innumerable explosions, blooming like vibrant flowers across the whole line. The shells killed many, but they injured far more, and most importantly broke the enemy¡¯s formation in an instant.


    And, it was only the first volley.


    ¡°Second rank¡­ FIRE!¡± Breaker called out once again. The rifles needed to be loaded each time they were fired. The rifles used by all others besides our people used complex mechanisms to store multiple rounds within them, and the pull of a bolt threw out spent munitions and loaded another. That allowed even hastily drafted soldiers from villages to send down withering fire down the battlefield. Our weapons were meant to destroy anything that could survive that. ¡°Third rank¡­ FIRE!¡±


    Every three seconds the guns thundered. Twenty shells flew. Doctrine told them to fire at groups of enemies or large targets. Those one the wings knew to coordinate fire on the largest targets, while those at the center focused on smaller ones. They would follow those orders unless instructed otherwise, and by following those orders sixty soldiers turned hundreds into mulch.


    Ogres burst apart in half or lost whole quarters of their bodies at single shots.


    Trolls fell forward with gaping holes appearing across their bodies.


    Anything lesser than them broke apart into nothing, while their vaporization heralded the speeding arrival of shrapnel upon those around them.


    I allowed another salvo to go forth into the dying mass, before bringing a whistle to my lips signalling through it.


    The shrill cry resounded, and the cannons ceased firing.


    The enemy was broken, and there was no point in sparing these monsters.


    ¡°Arm yourselves! Leave your cannons to the auxiliaries!¡± The guns were unloaded, those gathering spent brass casing taking them gingerly, while satchels of ammunition were gingerly laid down. My soldiers became warriors once again as they drew from sheathes the cold, pure-white weapons forged to their specifications from the foundries of the Citadels. I had thought we would lose this part of ourselves once the new weapons were shown to us, but Jack had provided it without even being asked. ¡°The enemy is shattered! The enemy is broken! It is time to make the enemy meet their end!¡±


    I drew my father¡¯s weapon axe and began to bless my warriors for our oncoming charge.


    We looked different, but the words my ancestors and our ways remained, only emboldened under the King of Wisdom.


    As a people, the Conquerors of the Desert remained, and we will fulfill our vows.


    ¡­


    The results are in.


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    Poison weapons were more effective than expected, which is absolutely terrifying since the poisons used by the enemy factions are just as busted as the ones we get in the future. Yeah, I need to end the coming crises fast, before everyone reaches the chemical warfare phase, because we¡¯ve got a lot less land to lose than everyone coming to kill us.


    Or, I could use them instead of firebombs¡­ mhmm¡­ I¡¯ll deliberate on which war crime is better for me in the future.


    For now, evaluation of the effectiveness of the latest strategy.


    Pumping Ancient tunnels with tons of gas designed to attack the respiratory system.


    I¡¯d given the Alchemists and budding chemists a simple job: create a weapon that can be transported in two kinds of containers: one for area denial and one for air drop. The latter was proving to be tricky and they were coordinating with experts in pottery and glassmakers, but the former proved to be easier than expected. Various compounds and poisons were already known to them, since they used magic all the time in their studies and experiments to make chemical extracts and refine metals and other substances. After they figured out how to make something with magic, since making something with magic required knowing the process, they just had to reverse engineer the method and make a physical apparatus to do it with raw materials.


    So, they asked for lots of a certain plant, extracted the volatile compounds via distillery, and put the product into airtight barrels.


    All that needed to be done was to crack them open with explosives from a distance and run.


    That would deny the area by filling it with an irritant that began as a liquid but would fizzle and turn into a tall and pale fog spread by wind.


    Now, I¡¯d seen the tests.


    I watched a pig in a room go from calm to squealing in pain and terror as its stopped being able to breathe and drowned on land.


    Then, in the dissection, I¡¯d seen the lungs of the creature extracted and revealed to be incredibly inflamed and filled with blood from multiple ruptures.


    I knew from those experiments that it was a deadly weapon, but pigs were normal creatures.


    They didn¡¯t have innate magic protecting them, or robust physiologies, like most mortals and monsters in this setting.


    So, when I deployed the weapon, I¡¯d honestly crossed my fingers and hoped that it would be an irritant.


    That the extract of some plant we could get readily and easily wasn¡¯t going to inflict horrific amounts of harm.


    But that wasn¡¯t the case.


    We entered the Ancient Tunnel used by the monsters and found ourselves looking at a field of corpses. The carpet of carcasses was so long that the light cast by our mages didn¡¯t even reveal them all. Not only that, but their deaths were horrific by any standard. Most of the monsters had clawed at their own throats and chests trying to desperately find a way to breath. Many scratched out their own eyes, and those that didn¡¯t had ones that were horrifically bloodshot. Noses and mouths ran with blood and the scent of defecation filled the tunnels as corpses voided themselves.


    Just being present reminded me of my childhood scouring battlefields¡­ but even in those battlefields the corpses I stole from died more peaceful deaths.


    I unleashed a terrifying weapon on these monsters, and will continue to do so, but someday soon I was sure that I¡¯d have to unleash it on people.


    But I¡¯ll cross that bridge when we get to it.


    ¡°We need samples. Get ten of each creature ready for transport. Make sure that they¡¯re dead, too.¡± I ordered as I took in the damage that I wrought. A single order carried this out. Just an assignment that I signed off on. The systems that I had in place told me that I had the troops and supplies for the assignment at the ready, therefore I just had to give it my approval. With the stroke of a feathered quill, I killed thousands of monsters. ¡°As for the rest, set them alight. The tunnels will do the rest.¡±


    With that said, the people accompanying me moved, and did as I asked while I moved to leave.


    A thought resounded in my mind as I moved, though


    The most basic of poison area of effect attacks did this much damage¡­ just how terrible will the highest tiers be?


    ¡­


    Thankfully, after two weeks, the Council of Kings that I called for was in session.


    Notably in a neutral territory that was once a town held by the Academy.


    The fact that I wasn¡¯t the host didn¡¯t stop me from shipping over all the furniture from the previous Council of Kings, though.


    What?


    I had everything custom built, so of course I had it all stored away and maintained until needed.


    Flying it all in was a hassle, but it was better than hosting something so important in literal ruins.


    Unfortunately, the meeting could¡¯ve just been an e-mail.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that you understand the nature of the current threat. The Death Lord is growing in strength and power as we speak. We all have obligations, especially with the outside world looking towards us now, but this is a threat that we cannot ignore.¡± We sat at a circular table, but Celia was ruling the roost. A few years of leadership and constant combat did her a lot of good and she was more likely to speak her mind¡­ at least to the Merchants and Forgers. ¡°They are building, training, and stockpiling resources as we speak. Soon, they will be heading our way, because they know that they cannot surmount the defenses of the King of Wisdom.¡±


    ¡°And, what would ye ask of the Forgers, then? That we cease to root out the Ancient foes of our people in favor of this Death Lord? Already the King of Wisdom¡¯s troops gather and amass.¡± The King of the Forgers didn¡¯t bring his metal throne this time, but he was clad in full regalia for the occasion. Since I last saw him, Agathon upgraded his gear. I¡¯d say around a five hundred point increase to him Item Level, if this were an MMO. Solid mid-game stuff and another thousand to go before hitting peak performance. ¡°None here benefit from the armies of others moving as much as you.¡±


    The Merchants didn¡¯t send anyone last time the Council of Kings met, but they went ahead and played their strongest hand in the form of their strongest leader.


    The weeb-bait fox-lady with big fluffy tails and a big hat and very large bits and bobs.


    If you didn¡¯t expect the devs to be degenerate with the literal furry faction, I suggest a career change into manual labor.


    ¡°Indeed, the King of Wisdom is already gobbling up all the mercenaries to help you, too. Meanwhile, my general¡¯s asking for re-supply in the middle of nowhere.¡± Harper sat with one leg crossed over another, displaying said leg completely thanks to a long slit in her white skirt. Her two fluffy ears popped out from the sides of the dome of her wide Victorian-style hat, which cast a shadow over the top half of her face, making it so only her sharp, fanged smile was showing as she spoke to Celia. Her top was a white long-sleeved blouse, whose buttons were holding for dear life around her chest. She also had a scarlet jacket, matching her heels hanging over her shoulders. Honestly, she screamed mob boss more than cutthroat merchant. ¡°Why so greedy, girly? You want all of us when you have such a fitting master right at your side? I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll buy in the moment you offer.¡±


    Usually, Khalai would smooth relations between everyone over with his usual, effusive and happy self, but with the Death Lord coming forth he showed his more zealous side.


    Even though he was in his usual not!belly dancer outfit, the way he acted was completely different from usual.


    ¡°As the scriptures say, those who turn away from the threat of the old masters is a pawn of the old masters. Merchant Executive Harper and Forger King Agathon, to ignore the threat of the Death Lord is to aid it¡­ and we will not suffer and allow the existence any allies of the old masters.¡±


    By that, of course, I mean he was being a full-blow zealot.


    I mean, he was saying all those hard-ass lines while covering his lower face with a lace fan and sitting just like Harper, but it¡¯s still zealotry even if it¡¯s cute.


    For a second, I considered interceding as Celia fumed, Khalai glared, and Agathon and Harper both stared at Khalai after his threat.


    Then, I decided that it was better to let things die down and clapped my hands.


    ¡°Alright, everyone. Two hour break for lunch to cool off and rethink things. Because at this rate, we¡¯ll kill each other before the Death Lord does.¡±


    Honestly.


    Trying to get these guys to work together is like trying herd a bunch of house cats.


    They¡¯re convinced that they don¡¯t need help, but if I leave them out to do their own shit, they¡¯ll die horrifically.

 V6: Chapter 8

    V6: Chapter 8


    ¡­


    I had the good fortune of working in a company where brown-nosing wasn''t necessary to get to the top, where working overtime was frowned upon, and the benefits were great. Of course, getting to that position required avoiding a whole lot of relationships and fun over the years, but it was better than having to go to a company where who you knew mattered more than what you knew.


    However, I was unlucky enough in this life to be born to a baggage train to a whore that sold me to slavery the moment I was able to walk.


    Meaning that I knew how to brown nose just fine.


    So, I went ahead and visited Agathon first, since he was the most prideful of the bunch of suicidal cats I was trying to cajole into working together.


    "So, the King of Wisdom graces us with his presence. Take a seat." The Dwarves in this setting were similar to their stereotypes in most other forms of fiction. Bearded, on the short side, but stout, strong, and talented at smithing. Unlike other settings, though, these guys weren''t carved from stone or were rocks with life breathed into them. These guys were the species that was constructed to maintain the works of the Ancients before they fell, and in order to keep their talents since the fall, they turned to eugenics. They did such a great job that they''re actually better than their ancestors now, but they needed some retroviral treatments to really reach their full potential. "You were honest in your dealings with us during the Famine and you honor your pact of allowing us access to your flying carriages. We will hear out your words."


    These guys weren''t the kind of people that you could bullshit.


    Their diplomacy tree is garbage and a waste of time to invest in.


    However, they''re always up for a good trade deal.


    "I have a select series of individuals that can help in rooting out the infestation troubling your cities." Agathon raised an eyebrow at my casual reveal that I knew what was going on in his cities. Is it because I have spies in his lands or because of my intellect? It''s actually both, my guy. "They''ll increase the efficiency of your purging teams by at least fifty percent. I''ll lend them to you for the duration of the Death Lord''s existence, so that the rest of your army can come here and start killing monsters."


    "Is that all you can offer? Our armies are mighty, especially against the monsters that this Death Lord calls upon. They will break upon our armies like waves against mountains." Agathon stroked his ebony beard and his advisors nodded at his back. Judging from the fact that they weren''t using Citadel materials for their custom war gear, they weren''t capable of using it yet. I thought about offering that knowledge to them, but Agathon gave his counter-offer before I could. "We want a division of your transports on our lands and the ability to maintain it. Simply having access is not enough. We need to be able to course our own path through the skies."


    If they wanted our flying horses, then that could only mean one thing.


    "Abandoning your plans to create airships? Even after your people seized all that they could from the Scholar''s wreckage?"


    Agathon went still at my words and glared at me.


    "¡­Your reach is longer than I believed. You best not waste such capable spies by keeping them near my scholars, King of Wisdom." Agathon now believed that I infiltrated his research centers. I didn''t. I just knew the Dwarven tech tree. Their aerial units were hybrids between machinery and magic to create durable air ships. They start with flying platforms that were basically hot air balloons lifting and descending, which could move forward and back with magic. Fragile, but good for scouting the map with its line of sight. "Yes. The project is seeing little progress and more than ever my people need to move quickly, and you have the solution to that."


    "Strike team deployments into enemy creches and maybe faster retrieval of enemy corpses before they spoil¡­ hm, done. I''ll sell you the infrastructure and a breeding group. You''ll have your transports and horses within a year." I wasn''t about to give what they requested for free, and the Dwarves were unlikely to accept it if it was free, which was good. They have a shitty ''good'' ending, with them enforcing their rules and traditions on other races at the end, so I wasn''t about to give them any favors, anyway. I''m not into being NTR''d by a genetically perfect stud or NTRing as a genetically perfect stud, thank you very much. Oh, I also didn''t like the idea of chemical sterilization of people who don''t meet the standards of the Dwarven overlords. That''s bad, too. "I''ll have the contract written up and sent your way within a month. Is that enough?"


    "My warriors will march upon the monsters and the Death Lord before the next moon, King of Wisdom." Agathon stood up and offered me a gauntleted hand to shake. I obliged and didn''t wince as he squeezed my hand tight with his grip. Sure, technically, I was the one losing on this. I was giving him air lift capability which solved the Dwarves'' issue with slow movement on the overworld map. However, I''m also sending him on a wild goose chase for spies that don''t exist. "The deal is well-bargained and struck. Let my own life be stricken from the tomes of ancestry should I fail to meet your demands."


    Conversely, if I don''t uphold my own end of the bargain, the Forgers will forever consider me an enemy.


    There''s opportunity in there for the future, where I could get something for free from them before destroying them, but that''ll have to wait.


    Dealing with the tutorial crisis was more important.


    Now, with the Forgers playing ball, it was time to handle the Merchants¡­ and the best way to do that was simple.


    Never bargain with them, always use diplomacy, and always use intimidation.


    Come here you greedy, proto-corporate scumbags, I''m going to show you how a private corpo-nation exists with a dictatorial hyperpower on their doorstep.


    Your entire nation-state is my personal wallet whether you like it or not.


    Time to spam Intimidate, Demand, and Threaten until I get what I want!


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    I had watched Jack broker a deal with the Forgers of the Mountains with efficiency and grace I couldn''t hope to manage.


    Thus, I expected him to do the same when he approached the Merchants'' Chief Executive.


    To beguile Harper with perfect, honeyed words and deals, so that their armies would march in our support.


    Then, in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded through the old council chambers of the Academy and the sound of a chair tumbling along with glass breaking made everything go into action.


    Executive Harper''s guards moved to protect their mistress, but before they could they were all stopped and brought to the ground. The guards were of the Lion and Bull tribes of the Merchants. The strongest of their myriad peoples, yet the black-armored guards of the King of Wisdom moved with synchronicity and speed that I''d only seen before in Ayah¡­ and the Merchants guards could do nothing as they were held down with sheer strength alone against the floor.


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    Before anyone else could move and question what happened, before I could even say a word, Jack''s spoke with clarity¡­ and ferocity that I never heard from him before. For the longest time, I''d seen him as that young Descendant boy in Academy uniform with all the answers in the back of his mind even as he perused the entirety of the Academy library.


    As he declared his thoughts to the world now, I recognized that that boy was now a man who bore the weight of the greatest nation ever seen on the continent since the fall of the Ancients¡­ and did so without flinching.


    "Executive Harper, you do not understand your place here. You and your people are below vermin. You are parasites! Parasites that once tried to starve the whole continent for your gold and wealth." He picked up her hat and gingerly looked it over. Fine craftsmanship. Her dress was tailored well, too. Now that I thought about, I saw what he saw. The expensive wine, the well-dressed guards, the custom furniture for her rest section beyond the simple round table that Jack gathered us around. How much of that was bought by those who were starving in their lands? "The only reason why you and your people have been invited here is to be given a chance to prove that you can be tolerated¡­ and you have spat upon that chance already!"


    Executive Harper, so beautiful and regal and sinister at her chair at the table, could only stare up at Jack in mute horror as he tossed aside her hat and took his sword from his waist and threw it before her on the spilled, dark red wine that surrounded her.


    "Get up and draw steel. Draw steel and use that anger in your heart. Do it so that I may see some semblance of a person instead of a parasite dressed in the fineries of mortals!" Jack thundered, and I stared at him transfixed. I''d thought I''d understood what it meant to be able to kill with words. That power had been entrusted to me by my people. By my command, I can have people march to war and have our foes killed. Now, I understood that I was wrong. What I had was authority granted to me by my people. The King of Wisdom could truly kill with his words alone. "Get up! Defend yourself. Defend your people! Lash out at the one who struck you down, Executive Harper!"


    The King of Wisdom stretched out his hands. His guards were holding down the Merchant''s guards. He was undefended.


    He was a normal Descendant without the ability to partake in magical combat.


    Against someone of the Fox Tribe, especially armed with even a ceremonial blade, he should be dead.


    Yet, as I watched, as the Forgers watched, as the Wardens watched, and as her own guards and staff watched¡­ she scrambled away and kicked the sword to his feet.


    Given the chance to kill, the chosen leader of the Merchants chose to flee in terror in the eyes of the entire Council of Kings and all those who attended us.


    His words gave her a death worse than any execution could give.


    I was a fool to fear her.


    Gone was the great and powerful leader of the Merchants, and instead I only saw a foe to be pitied.


    A foe who was still at the mercy of a former slave who now held the greatest nation on the planet since the fall of the Ancients.


    She tried to get up, tried to run, but her legs failed her and all she could do was try to crawl on her rear away from him.


    "My people will arrive at your capital. We will expect the funds needed to support our cause against the Death Lord. If we do not find it, I will crush your nation under my boot." Jack picked up his sword and walked through the spilled wine the broken furniture. He walked past the held down guards of the Merchant''s leader. They were no longer struggling. They were defeated and they pushed their faces against the floor. Their ears matted against their skulls. "You are parasites! Creatures that should burn so that something better may have a chance at living. Unless you prove otherwise, unless your vaunted mercantilism can bring some good into this continent, then you will all burn as parasites should. Do you understand, Executive Harper of the Merchants of the Marsh? Speak!"


    The King of Wisdom stopped walking with his heel making a resounding crack against the marble floors of the Academy''s ruined council chamber.


    I almost wished to speak on Harper''s behalf.


    Such was my desire to defend the weak.


    But I stood fast and silent as did all the others present, as her ears drooped and flattened against her skull, as she couldn''t even speak, as her eyes were wide with terror so great that her mind could not think.


    The illustrious, magnificent leader of the Merchants was well and truly gone.


    However, the Merchants remained.


    "Y-your majesty, p-please let me speak." One of the aides Executive Harper brought along spoke up. The moment he looked away; other aides rushed forward to help shadow their leader away into the dark halls of the ruin. Clad in a pure white suit and with a porcelain mask on her face, the Fox Tribe woman that spoke up only had a golden rose on her lapel to signify her authority. She was Harper''s second in command¡­ and she was barely capable of meeting the glare of disdain aimed at her by the King of Wisdom. "We shall meet your demands in full. H-however, we would like certain assurances¡ª"


    "Fund the effort against this crisis and I shall consider the scales balanced for your actions during the previous threat to all the peoples of this land." Jack''s face, usually smiling, had a cool, dreadful calm. Like a wall of ice holding back a great wave, he spoke to the shivering second-in-command of the Merchants. "I will not raise armies against you. I will not free your¡­ indentured populace gripped by debts their children will have to pay. I will not see your guilds all burn with those that had them starved to death. Those are your assurances, Merchant, and they will suffice."


    The Merchant bowed from her waist as he spoke and trembled in fear as she heard his words and only nodded furiously at his assertion before fleeing.


    When they were gone, Jack nodded at his guards and they let the warriors of the Merchants rise.


    He addressed them¡­ with a bit of warmth in his eyes.


    "Your people are better than that. Always remember that before you become Merchants, that you were something better."


    The guards stiffly nodded at his words, before turning to leave¡­ but each one turned to look at him before following their leader back into the shadows.


    Once they were gone, he turned to us all, sighed, shook his head, and a semblance of his usual smile returned.


    "Well, then, everyone. Let''s work to save our people. Ayah, the maps, please!"


    Without missing a beat, he took hold of the Council of Kings and aimed it at the heart of our true foe.

 V6: Chapter 9

    V6: Chapter 9


    ¡­


    The typical response to the Death Lord crisis is really the typical response to every crisis.


    Turtle up and fight them in your own turf. While they''re suffering from being in your territory, getting raided, finding no food, and getting funneled into chokepoints, you get all the benefits of being at home. Your unit morale is boosted, the have lower maintenance costs since they don''t need long logistical trains, and reinforcements can get to the frontline faster than the enemy''s reinforcements can. So, even though the enemy has the numerical advantage overall, you can defeat them in detail, after you gut their supply lines, burn their stockpiles, and harass them incessantly.


    Most importantly, though, you need to make sure that they have a way back home.


    Cornered armies won''t retreat, they''ll fight for their lives, and they''ll take your troops with them.


    Given their numerical superiority, fighting them to the death would be a net win on their part, since you''d take more losses and expend more munitions to wipe them out.


    It''s always better to have the enemy deal with wounded, defeated personnel, especially since they''re limited in terms of territory.


    Well, the Death Lord is limited in terms of territory and resources, not the rest of the crises.


    The monsters the Death Lord was gathering needed to eat to survive, and with their numbers that was an issue, since they weren''t farmers. The Academy''s lands were rich and bountiful, with lots of game roaming around, but foraging and hunting weren''t enough to feed half-a-million monsters, which included the likes of Ogres and Trolls in their ranks. No, in order to survive, the Death Lord needed to take a citadel and usurp a whole faction''s population and take their food stock.


    Both the population and food stocks would be necessary to buy time to teach the monsters how to perform agriculture, since even the Citadel wouldn''t be enough to feed them all.


    Yeah, in the end, the Death Lord was a tutorial crises because it can be endured.


    If it didn''t take over enough towns, the monsters under its command will butcher each other for food.


    If it kept getting halted by fortresses and chokepoints, then it won''t be able to raid and pillage for food, leading to the cycle of cannibalism and in-fighting again.


    Then, finally, after some time it''ll just be the Death Lord and armies of Undead that would have to be dealt with and they''ll be lacking in auxiliary support units, mages, cavalry, and even artillery.


    It''ll just have infantry, a lot of infantry, but that won''t be enough to survive¡­ let alone win.


    At that point you roll in the artillery, and they do what they do best to massed infantry.


    Fuck''em.


    ¡­


    We kept gassing the tunnels leading into the Death Lord''s lands, while the Forgers, Guardians, and Wardens created a coalition force. While I dealt and handled the logistics between their three separate capitals, and took what I needed from the Merchants, I expanded my efforts to continue to undercut and hamstring the Death Lord.


    In-game, you could commit gold, resources, and Champions with their armies to act against the current event. Usually, it was a new menu with an event-based advisor guiding you through the whole issue. I couldn''t recall his name, but there was that one Academy guard captain that was meant to be the Advisor for when demons popped out and wrecked the Academy. I should look into finding him, since he could manage to hold off an invasion on a shoestring budget, barely any troops, and crowd funding.


    Anyway, the issue was that event screen wasn''t popping up, so I was going to have to do it myself.


    Thankfully, I''m surprisingly well-suited towards coordinating multiple teams of skilled individuals to do dirty work.


    I blame Khanrow.


    "Alright, this looks good." I had a command center set up in the Academy settlement that my established. With the Guardians, Wardens, and Forgers being the ones receiving the main army of the Death Lord, it was my job to coordinate deep strikes into his territory, cut off the monsters coming to help him, and generally sabotage his efforts to win. "This is the most recent map of the Death Lord''s territory, correct?"


    "It is." Ayah confirmed. We both looked at a massive table where the Death Lord established itself in an Ancient Tower. It was an eighth of the Academy''s lands and north of its capital. The industrial heartland of the Academy, it didn''t have much in terms of agriculture, but it had plenty of mines and former workshops. The vast majority had already been looted or scavenged, of course, but armed recon flights over the area confirmed that the tribes of monsters were getting to work bringing them up to functionality. Teams of monsters were scurrying around the shattered Academy capital, and we were scaring them off. "I am ready to present the most ideal targets for our troops according to your specifications."


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    I gave the Ancient Administrator a nod and it placed four red flags on the map.


    "The primary objective that you wish to strike is beyond our reach. The food and slave stores of the monsters are heavily guarded and under the direct protection of the Death Lord. Familiars sent anywhere close to its area of control are killed in an instant. The cost would be too great to bear." The first flag went right next to the Death Lord''s Ancient tower. The monsters and undead it called upon had mages, but none that could strike at our high-flying transports. Unfortunately, the Death Lord itself was all the aerial denial that they needed. Ayah reached under the desk and pulled out a series of strings with distances marked on each one. "Here are the four flights that got closest to the Death Lord''s main area of control. We can estimate a ten kilometer kill radius with the tower at the center."


    If we can burn their food supplies and give their ''cattle'' honorable deaths, the monsters will turn on each other, so overcoming an overpowered kill-zone was a necessity.


    "Start preparing the materials and people necessary to send in saturation flights of familiars. I know that it''s asking a lot, but we need to get in there." Familiars are used by mages as separate bodies while in a trance. They form a connection to a living creature that they''ve come to understand and who has accepted them. A mage feels their familiar dying, their connection to it end, and basically goes through the death themselves. I''d rather not do it¡­ so, I wracked my brain and remembered something. "Wait, the Guardians have their new air defense system, right? Can that be modified to send in a decoy stream of dumb projectiles while the mages send their Familiars in?"


    "It should be possible, by Lady Adil would have to reveal to us the secrets of her new weapon system for us to modify it into a pseudo-siege weapon."


    "We''ll negotiate with her. We need those food supplies burning and those people¡­ spared any more indignity as cattle to monsters."


    Ayah nodded at my decision, and moved in with the next flag for a potential operation.


    Or, rather, two flags.


    "Command and control over their efforts are consolidated. Heavily."


    "Well, that''s stupid."


    "Indeed." Two flags were placed right next to each other on the map. I took note of the fact it was past the absolute defense zone that the Death Lord had, but it was close enough that a decent sprint could get the targets in there. "They are composed of the strongest and most influential of the monstrous tribes. The Death Lord has made them his officers and officials. They are his personal warlords and besides him, they hold supreme power over all others."


    "Simple and effective, but its weakness is obvious. Kill one person and you basically take out their military and their civilian leadership at the same time." I mean, it made sense. These monsters and tribes barely have cave-painting and oral histories. There was no chance that they had a bureaucracy, let alone a bureaucracy so big that it needed more bureaucracy to support it, which gave governance a certain momentum that can carry plans through even with a few dozen officials somehow dying one way or another. "I''m guessing they''re not all conveniently in one place?"


    "No, they are not. They are in constant movement around the Death Lord''s territory and even operate outside of it with their personal troops and tribal warriors. However, these two flags represent the most eminent of them. Those whom the Death Lord relies on the most."


    "His Champions."


    "Correct." Ayah handed me the report, which was in a three-ring folder. Did it give me flashbacks of high school and middle school? Yes, but it was cost effective, durable, and kept the papers in one piece. "The leader of the Harpies and the Feral Beast tribes. We do not yet have their names, but they lead large camps and clash with one another with the Death Lord as their mediator and superior. The former is a mage and the latter is a strong warrior."


    "Stronger than the people we can send after them?"


    "Yes, but we can investigate and find their lieutenants and incriminate them against one another. The Iterants assure me that they are capable of this. They will disguise themselves, infiltrate, and set them against one another."


    "No, that sounds too costly. Even if they''re creating more of themselves, we''re not using them like ammunition against the enemy. It''s not only wrong, but a waste of labor." I admonished Ayah lightly, but I knew the real ones proposing that plan were the Iterants themselves. They were eager to prove themselves. It was a good side effect of them being treated normally and having normal rights. Yeah, I''d rather the killer magi-tech terminators are patriots than enslaved peoples preparing for an uprising. "Focus on the edges of their people, but kept those two in mind. We''ll infiltrate from the outside in, kill the small ones first, and create proxies. We''ll take them out all at once they''re absolutely surrounded by Iterants and have no chance."


    Why send one infiltrator that''s a living weapon with superhuman stats to kill your enemies when you can send a couple dozen?


    I mean, yeah, it takes more time to set up¡­ but I haven''t gotten this far by taking risks.


    Iterants will be found out sooner, rather than later, so while they were unknown and before countermeasures were made against them, I want to exploit their abilities as much as possible.


    You can easily tell if someone is an Iterant or not by just poking their skin.


    They don''t bleed, after all.


    "Then, with that project to be amended, there''s only one that I can propose at the moment." Ayah presented the last operational flag. I knew exactly what it was. I''d been preparing for it and spending money like crazy. "Emissaries of the Death Lord through the tribes of monsters under his command have begun to recruit brigands and other bandits and they are answering its call. We can infiltrate his people through their recruitment efforts via the mercenaries that we have been gathering in secret."


    When the Intrigue features came in during one of the game''s expansions, the Death Lord tutorial was given a new feature along with all the crises, so that they could be affected by infiltration.


    The Death Lord''s was the most straightforward and didn''t require any specific research, captured Champions, and enhanced interrogation methods.


    Or, you know, vivisection and dissection.


    Just have a mercenary unit read for it to "recruit" in the intrigue layer, so you gain access to its plans for the coming turns and more eventually.


    "Understood, it will be done." Ayah gave me a nod, before planting the final flag down. Infiltration and subserves ion of the enemy was a go. "I recommend placing Iterants with these mercenaries in order to ensure that they can succeed in their missions given to them by the Death Lord."


    Right, in reality, things weren''t as simple as placing people into an assignment.


    The people I''m sending to work for the Death Lord would have to work for the Death Lord in order to be double-agents.


    "Make it happen. Prioritize our Iterant''s lives over the mercenaries, though. They need to make sure things are clean if any of them are caught." With a few words, I condemned the mercenaries to death so that they couldn''t leak any secrets. The only silver lining was that we informed them of this. "They''re being properly compensated for this risk, correct? They''re aware that they can''t be captured?"


    "Correct. Only those who have accepted the conditions have been given the position. They are also being paid twice the normal mercenary rate. Succeeding in this mission will allow them to retire in peace, as well." Retirement wasn''t much of a benefit. Everyone''s going to have to end up fighting soon, anyway. Still, I suppose that the offer was sweet enough for most to take, despite the chances of them being killed the moment they were about to be captured. "The pills that you commissioned from the Citadels have been given in case of capture, as well. They are being implanted as we speak."


    Suicide pills hidden in molars, in other words.


    This one would put you in permanent sleep and then make you stop breathing. Painless as far as deaths go, and it''s also a pain reliever.


    Also, well, I didn''t want my soldiers getting harvested by any of the bigger enemies out there.


    It''ll be optional for people fighting on the front in the future, so that they couldn''t be turned into living art pieces, mutated gestational devices, test subjects, or infinite dinners.


    For the mercenaries going on the infiltration route, just like my non-Iterant infiltrators, it''ll be mandatory.


    "Good. That takes care of what we can do in the dark. Time to put our actual military to the test." Ayah nodded at my words and turned to a small chest, and from it she produced fabricated pieces that would represent our armies. We were finished with our testing, with our preparation, and we knew our limits. Every piece being put on the table was a known entity. We know how far they could go in a day, how skilled their average soldier was, and how well we could supply them. Their officers were good, they can support each other, and they can win¡­ as long as the strategic objectives they were given allowed them to. Thankfully, the first course of action using our new system was simple. "Alright, then. Let''s open up a second front right in our killbox."


    The Death Lord has so far tried to ignore us at its back, even as we built castles and set up siege works.


    Well, that was its mistake.


    Time to teach the Death Lord that giving an RTS player time turtle up is an absolutely stupid move.

 V6: Chapter 10

    V6: Chapter 10


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    The skies were blackened and scarlet from the fires burning whole battlefields. Verdant fields filled with flowers and grass were now muddy expanses covered in the dead. Towns abandoned in the war between the Scholars and the Academy were now ruins with only stone buildings remaining. Across the battlefields mages dueled one another. Barriers of wind intercepting flashes of flame and lightning with tempestuous storms forged into flat panes imposed upon the world itself.


    Armies of the dead clashed against one another, those employed by my people firing volley after volley into nigh-endless hordes of shambling corpses and skeletons barely equipped with clubs and rusted, broken weapons. My Necromancers and Vampires guided our Undead forces through the whole battlefield, drawing the endless hordes into positions where mages could fire, and where numbers meant nothing. The Familiar Nests used by my people struck down Harpies whenever they took to the skies, but still they contested the skies whenever we tried to move through it.


    The Forgers moved as an unbreakable army across the region. Wherever they went, there was only the destruction of the enemy. They were slow, even with assistance from Jack''s transports, but wherever they went their march could not be broken and they destroyed any attempt made by the enemy to create a fortified position. Their hammers fell not only upon the Undead, but also the monsters that the Death Lord called its citizenry and soldiers, and they burned and died at the gauntleted fists and hammers of the Forgers.


    The Wardens were the swiftest of us and even outnumbered us. Their most zealous barely went into battle with any armor. They did not fear death, as dying would only merely return them to their capital if their body was destroyed. If their body was recovered, they could return after being given onto their priests in the backline. Sometimes, when Sirena or the High Justiciar was on the field, neither was necessary and they returned to fight another battle after dying in another. Their weapons were strong and mighty, and recoverable after death, while armor and trinkets broke and deemed largely unnecessary.


    Their zeal was unmatched in battle. Death was nothing to them, and so they drove themselves into impossible battles for others and won victories most pyrrhic without blinking. They returned to fight again and again, against the fiercest of monsters, whether they were smashed apart by ogres, ripped apart by feral Beast Tribes, or torn to shreds by Undead. They strode as beautiful figures into battle, their bodies anointed and ready for death, without breaking or retreating.


    More than the Forgers, I feared the Wardens, but most of all¡­ even as we waged war unlike any other I feared Jack.


    I had just returned from his side of the battle.


    Where he and his nation waged war without any allies against the Death Lord.


    And, while we were slowly grinding them down, the Death Lord''s forces were being annihilated in his lands.


    There the skies were blue and under his control, and he rained hell upon the formations of Skeletons and deployed Conquerors right atop Mages. From fortresses constructed and deconstructed within days, he set up cannons and put the enemy to siege wherever they gathered, and each one supported the other. Any attack on one could be fired upon by two others. He advanced by be leaps and bounds, his forces were highly mobile, striking deep into enemy territory, and when given chase they led their foes into the guns of fortresses.


    The only reason the Death Lord''s lands were not cut in half by his advance was because we could not meet him halfway and even he could not fight whilst flanked from two sides and so close to the enemy''s heartland.


    "Lady Adil." I was brought from my thoughts by Mallory who was fallowed by Christine. The twins were my finest Champions and they won me many battles since the Death Lord had arisen. Only Tormund could compare to them in merits. The black-plated Vampires both knelt in my presence. They were freshly returned after rotating back to rest for a month. The reprieve did them well. Both had fresh fire in their eyes. "We have returned and we have been informed on the front. Where do you have need of us?"


    And, of course, the most effective operations my forces were partaking in was from him.


    "We have caught sight of the lieutenants of the so-called Harpy Queen." The Death Lord defended against my teacher''s people. Wraiths and other spectral entities were repelled by the Death Lord''s wards. They could not pass his borders. Thus, my people were blinded by the very first move of our foe. The Wardens and Forgers had little success in gathering intelligence behind the Death Lord''s lines, too. We all had to rely upon the patrols from the air sent by the King of Wisdom that surveyed the enemy''s lands¡­ but there was information coming from him that could only come from actual informants. Informants from an army composed of Undead, monsters, and the vilest of mortals. "We go to strike her down today."


    "As you command, Lady Adil." Both bowed at me, and I turned to my nearest handmaiden. She nodded at the others and I raised my arms. My dress was undone and fell away. Beneath it I wore only bandages and wrappings of spider-silk darkened a deep black. They weaved and tightened it around me, keeping it close to my skin, and enclosing me within it. Then, came the chain mail, the plates, the artifacts, and more.  Every layer was designed to protect my body and keep me alive. With synchronicity, they clad me in armor and protections, before two knelt and offered me my weapons. I took after the style of the Sword of Wisdom after I fought with her. A blade in one hand and a strong firearm in the other, but I augmented it with strong shades and Undead. Finally, I took my helmet from my last handmaiden. "We go to war once again."


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    Was this war?


    The war that I learned all my life had¡­ pageantry.


    Warriors, mages, and skilled archers dueled across the battlefield. Champions met with one another while the armies behind them listened. Warlords would be close by, waiting with their most loyal and strongest, ready to turn the tide of battle. Battles would take course over days, small skirmishes on the same plot of land again and again, until terms were brokered between two sides and victory was taken by one as the other went off to lick their wounds.


    An endless cycle of violence, with beasts of war growing stronger as they tested one another and never grew complacent, which I wanted to bring to an end.


    Yet, now, the war that I looked upon was that of annihilation.


    People died in the thousands, monsters in the tens of thousands, and I looked upon deaths and casualties in the thousands like they meant nothing.


    The war we fought now was alien to me, yet what loomed over us was going to be far, far worse.


    I felt like I was stuck in the past, as the world entire walked forth into oblivion with strides I could not match.


    I took a deep breath and shook my head, and found comfort in the grip of my sword and the weight of my firearm on my hip.


    Such thoughts were harder to ignore whenever I met with Jack, but I could not falter.


    Not now when so many people''s lives hung in the balance, and there were still some things that only I could do.


    "Yes, my Champions, let us wage war."


    I spoke and donned my helm, finding some comfort in its narrowed vision and its confines.


    Yes.


    For now, I could still find a place to belong in battle.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    "It''s done. I''ve discerned how they keep evading us." Morgan stated with a satisfied smile, while placing an artifact around the table we sat upon. We have pursued the Academy and its mobile base for weeks now and have not managed to get any closer to it. "The tunnels have a form of magic laced within the walls designed to prevent collisions. Space is warped and stacked atop one another. At a distance, we can see them, but the moment we arrive in their section they are effectively in another tunnel system entirely."


    "So, it''s not an active method on their part. They''re making use of the domain created by the Ancients. Is there any way to intrude upon the realm where they stride?" I asked Morgan, and she nodded with her prideful smile growing larger. My sense of danger increased in an instant, and Ilych stood straighter. "It involves an Ancient ruin that is extremely dangerous, doesn''t it?"


    "Indeed, it does. In essence, we must breach a sub-control room of a massive, planet-wide transportation system that has maintained itself and its ability to warp space for countless years." Morgan produced a map from an inner pocket of her large coat and placed it on the table between us all. The Artifact she had placed earlier was the result of an earlier foray into an Ancient Ruin in the tunnel system. The defenses of the place had been fearsome automatons the size of dogs, but with the ability to skitter along the walls and kill their targets with bladed weapons. Had Ilych not borne the brunt of the initial attack, many of our retinue would''ve died, and she had nearly been sliced apart. "This artifact is an access token to such a place¡­ but I''m sure that the Academy had one already, since that''s the only way they could''ve entered another layer of the transport system."


    With such an artifact, then we will not have to worry about Ancient defense systems.


    I discerned who our most likely foe would be with that in mind.


    "So, our foes will be the Academy''s forces guarding such a place. I suppose that they need to control it to return to our layer of space, which holds the exits and entrances to the tunnel system?" The Academy was the one using the spatial manipulation feature of the location. None had ever used it before and the control room was necessary to intrude upon their isolated space. Thus, I discerned that having access to the control room in the first place was needed to enter and leave that space. "And, you''ve already located this area?"


    "The Academy showed it to us already. I''ve been tracking their movements, and more importantly where they send people out to gather supplies or communicate with their forces above ground. They need to remain in contact with the control station to enter and leave their closed space without being intercepted." Morgan explained and drew a line connecting all the points where the Academy stopped, where we tried to intercept them again and again only to find them vanishing the moment, we got close. In but a few moments, Morgan created a circle with all the points and drew lines from them towards a point where all those lines met. "This point here is equally distant to all the places that they have stopped. The maximum range of a communication artifact of some sort, I believe, and thus the location of the control station that they are used to defend themselves."


    "A place of this much importance will be heavily defended. This may be the place where the Academy''s unaccounted Champions are." Morgan had insisted we look through the records of the Academy Champions who went missing during the Scholar War. Those whose bodies were never found, much like the Headmasters. We assumed that the ten or so individuals never found or verified dead were all with the Academy force we were now pursuing. "If they''re the ones we believe that they are, then it''s likely that they''re commanding the remains of the Academy''s elite forces. Their finest soldiers and their specialists."


    "It''ll most likely be heavily fortified, then. The control station itself, of course." I recalled those amongst the dead. The offensive Champions were sent to try and stop the falling city of the Scholars, while many more were sent to try and take the Scholar''s lands. Many died to the Scholars after they were cut off from supplies. Others cast aside their former allegiances and turned to mercenary work with the Merchants. Those that remained who weren''t dead or had new loyalties were focused on the defensive and carefully leading specialized troops. The spies, policing force, and the home guard of the Academy, in essence. "We cannot do this on our own. We''ll need at least a small army to take a position held by the Champions we believe alive and their elites."


    Morgan''s smile didn''t falter in the slightest at my words, as when I usually said the words that implied we couldn''t achieve something.


    Instead, it ceased to reach her eyes, which narrowed as she stared menacingly down at the map and leaned on the table propping up her chin with one arm.


    With her free hand, she placed a finger on the probable location, and looked like a predator playing with her prey.


    Ilych spoke for the first time.


    "You wish to use the new weapon developed by our King."


    "Indeed, I do. It''s perfect, no? Underground position. Substance heavier than air, and it''s an Ancient, civilian structure. Not a military holdout location. It''ll work. It''ll work very well, in fact. All we need to do is make sure that they breathe long and deep." Morgan''s finger traced the tunnel system and found the nearest exits and entrances to the center. We were going to shatter them all and pump the poison that could fell Ogres and Trolls, hardy beasts that took dozens of men to take down, in seconds. "Why turn our noses up at such a wonderful tool carefully developed by our long-sighted ruler? Do you think he did something wrong by making such a weapon?"


    She didn''t even look up at either of us, as she knew our answer.


    Ilych, much braver and stronger than I, nodded at Morgan''s words.


    "I''ll requisition the weapon. How many shall we need?"


    "I think they''ll have a garrison of about four to five thousand led by ten Champions in there. About thrice the amount they use to flood a tunnel will do, I believe." The words were casual, but Morgan''s smile and hum with the words made me shiver. She brushed back a strand of hair to rest behind her air, like a charmed young woman given a wonderful gift. Save for the fact the gift she was given was going to kill thousands in horrific ways. "Let''s be thorough and take the place without casualties as our king desires."


    Ilych nodded, and I didn''t say a word.


    With that the three of us consigned thousands to die drowning on their own blood.

 V6: Chapter 11

    V6: Chapter 11


    ¡­


    Generally speaking, you can tell you¡¯re winning against a crisis, if the crisis in question isn¡¯t breaking through your defenses, raiding your improved tiles, and sieging your cities. Extra points if your armies stay over 80% health after each engagement with them. The rough idea is that as long as you can produce units, as long as you¡¯re only taking damage to your military sections, then you¡¯re good because in the game those things can be produced and sent to the front without issue as long as you¡¯ve got the infrastructure set up.


    Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the case in this world¡­ and I had to admit the fact that I was wrong about the Iterants not being a good Ancient Wonder to get.


    I¡¯d go as far as to say anything short of the top three options, I¡¯d have been fucked without them.


    The Iterants were proving to be a great holding force. Yeah, I know. It¡¯s a big surprise that loads of tough shapeshifting, replicating magical robots can hold the line better than flesh and blood.


    In my defense, in-game, the Ancient Wonder just gave you a shitty event chain that might result in an AI rebellion if you do things wrong and increased population throughout your territory. All the lore about Iterants being in your armies, taking on labor jobs, and generally becoming part of society through the right choices in their event chain, which required spending money, influence, and resources to get the best ending for, wasn¡¯t faithfully replicated in the game.


    No changes for unit models, no better stats for your units, and in-game pops ballooned to gigantic proportions in the late game.


    Therefore, the Iterants were considered a horrible Ancient Wonder and worth restarting the game over, if you got them.


    However, in my current life, all that lore was in full affect and the Iterants were on the field and wrecking house.


    ¡°The Iterants are doing far better than expected.¡± There were whole units of them deployed out there, separate from the other mortals. It took a while, but I massed them into proper unit numbers. 1000 Iterants with all the support that they needed to wage ware. Their supply lines were much lighter. They needed less of everything that a soldier needed, but I gave it to them to make sure they¡¯d stay loyal and have nothing to complain about. I rotated them out just like everyone else, made sure they were fed, gave them the same assignments as others, and used them like ordinary soldiers¡­ and they excelled. ¡°In fact, I may consider your advice to focus on having them replace the whole army.¡±


    ¡°I advise against that. They¡¯re not to be trusted.¡± Ayah all but spat the words out, but grimaced as it considered the successes of the troops in question. They¡¯re a bunch of soldiers that can rip apart most monsters with their bare hands and break down the likes of Ogres and Trolls with perfect synchronicity. With some time and materials, they repaired themselves with ease, and rotating them around for rest and mental health just had them grumble about being ready for more combat. Wherever a concentrated force of them went, there were only victories for my people. ¡°The Ancients once trusted models such as them before. These ones have been refined and appear loyal, but that can change with time. Whole armies of them would be a mistake.¡±


    Ayah served tea and biscuits to me as I sat beneath a large parasol on a folding lounge chair. After the last couple days were spent in the command room, I decided it was time for a bit of an excursion for me and my officers. We had a little get together in a meadow close to our fortified settlement. Most people were unwinding around drinks, food, and entertainment, while I just enjoyed working beneath a clear blue sky instead of under a low roof.


    It¡¯s the little things that make life worth living.


    Anyway, I ¡®graced¡¯ my soldiers and officers with my presence for a bit before secluding myself in my private tent surrounded by guards when the entertainment arrived. Once the music started flowing, so did drinks, and so there was a good time going on over there. I was out of the way and out of mind, so they just enjoyed themselves, while I did the same with a few more reports in hand.


    ¡°The results speak for themselves, and I trust that our fair treatment of them and the changes made to them by the Ancients will keep them loyal. I don¡¯t see why they wouldn¡¯t stay loyal. They are afforded all the same rights, receive similar pay, and they are allowed to rise through the ranks.¡± Ayah was hard to convince regarding the Iterants. I understood why. These guys made up the bulk of the AI rebellion that the Ancients faced. They were treated well back then too, but looked to take over anyway. The lore ranged from them just wanting power to them wanting to control the Ancients¡¯ lives to keep them safe completely and utterly. Whatever happened, they turned into bad guys, and if those who survived won they¡¯ll be turning us into brains in jars unable to die for their own satisfaction. ¡°I am sure the Ancients treated them well, too. However, these new Iterants know of the mistakes of their forebears and they have been altered so that will never happen again. Can we afford to not use all their strength, Ayah?¡±


    Ayah grimaced at my words and shook its head.


    ¡°We have need of them, but they are best separated and not allowed to congregate in such numbers.¡± Ayah insisted, and I sighed and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind, then. However, if it saves lives and makes our victory more probable, I will do what needs to be done.¡± Ayah¡¯s grimace deepened, but she nodded at the end. This wasn¡¯t a compromise. However, it didn¡¯t look like this was something it would rebel against me for. No. There was too much at stake for that now. ¡°How goes our acquisitions from the Merchants?¡±


    ¡°They have begun changing their methods to produce as you predicted. Restructuring has taken place and consolidation is occurring.¡± The Merchants had several tricks up their sleeves to produce money. Cultural and technological development in that faction all stemmed around making more capital and increasing production. The meta for the faction was that if you¡¯re not pumping out armies every turn from every place that could produce it by buying them outright, then you¡¯re playing them wrong. Production is just for making buildings that increase the viability of chaff units, like military academies or armories in Military Districts. They bury enemies under ¡®good enough¡¯ units and buy hordes of them¡­ they need time to do that, though. ¡°By my estimates, they¡¯ll be able to field armies in support of us within a year.¡±


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    ¡°Not good enough. Keep the pressure on them to send us money. They won¡¯t be able to help, if we don¡¯t keep gouging them.¡± They didn¡¯t have the institutional knowledge to mass produce soldiers. Hell, they haven¡¯t even properly reverse-engineered the guns I¡¯ve allowed to flow all over the continent. They barely have muskets, and they¡¯re not even close to the bolt actions we¡¯re developing now. Soon, we¡¯re going to have semi-automatics or even submachine guns from our research on the guns produced by the Citadel and they¡¯ll be operating off of garbage. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s worth keeping them around?¡±


    Ayah crunched the numbers with closed eyes for a moment before shaking its head.


    ¡°The Merchants are swift and capable of changing, but the benefits they offer are wasted. They have proven themselves incapable of seeing beyond short-term profit. Their industries and production only benefit themselves if they are not controlled and directed.¡± Ayah stated simply, and I agreed with a nod.


    The Merchants of the Marsh are basically a few dozen corporations/guilds in a trench coat pretending to be a nation. Their goal is to become the economy, and their ending is a joke. They¡¯re supposed to create a massive enough economy that no one else can compete and they¡¯ll buy out all the Citadels through an unlocked Diplomatic option. They literally can¡¯t win their special victory unless the AI are brain dead and agree to sell their seats of power. After that, somehow, they bind the world together with trade and force until the planet is an arcane-cyberpunk setting with them at the top.


    Ridiculous, I know.


    You can barely deal with regular humans diplomatically when they¡¯re on an even playing field you with.


    You expect me to believe that having lots of money and firepower will stop literal cannibals, flesh-shapers, mind-controlling freaks, and more from not trying to kill you?


    I¡¯d sooner believe that Khalai¡¯s capable of dressing without the intention to seduce.


    ¡°Put the pressure on them, then. We¡¯ll take all that we can short of breaking them. When they¡¯re there. We¡¯ll give them room to think and consider their position. If we can take them peacefully, we should.¡± At this point, I couldn¡¯t ignore the fact that I was halfway to my goal of taking all the Citadels. In-game, having them all is considered a military victory. However, even in the game, you¡¯re given the option to keep playing after and fight against the Crises at the difficulty level you set them on. Technically, you¡¯ve won after beating the enemy factions, but you really only earn your victory over a difficulty level after beating all the Crises after doing that, too. No, that¡¯s not a completely arbitrary measurement of success. There¡¯s an achievement if you do it, so it¡¯s real. ¡°But we both know that they¡¯ll try their best to keep their money and power. Reinforce our agents there and have them begin preparations for a coup a few years from now.¡±


    Ayah nodded at my commands and I allowed myself a moment to partake in some tea and cookies, while enjoying the view of a lush evergreen forest.


    After a fifteen minute break, I¡¯ll get back to work.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khalai


    ¡­


    With an outstretched hand and a prayer, I unmade the magics suffusing the last of the Undead created by the false masters and completed our victory.


    The land was choked by blood, the skies were red and filled with dark clouds, yet the sound of victory horns resounding was like hymns sung by those who reached paradise.


    Our crusade won another battle.


    ¡°High Justiciar, the battle is won.¡± Sirena informed me, and I turned her way. Flesh was still healing upon her form, and cleansing magics were removing dirt and grime from her body. She fed her innards back into her stomach and within a moment she stood before me whole and hale with silver sword in hand. ¡°Please, leave dealing with the remains of the enemy to us. Many await to return.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, you have my thanks for reminding me. I¡¯m afraid my blood runs hot fighting against the enemy of our people.¡± The Saintess tilted her head in acknowledgement of my words, while I treaded upon the muddy and bloody ground. I cleansed wherever I stepped out of instinct, but I stopped myself. It was better to return our holy warriors to life than to step upon fresh grass and flowers instead of mud and muck. ¡°Any news of our reinforcements? There¡¯s still another band of foes we can reach before sunset.¡±


    Sirena raised an eyebrow at my question and simply pointed to the east.


    There, in the distance, there were white wings shining bright in the fire-scorched skies.


    Always on time and never a moment late.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave the remains of our righteous cause here to you, Sirena. I shall attend to our wounded and dead, before meeting with our friends.¡±


    ¡°Yes, High Justiciar.¡±


    I left her and went towards our back line.


    Many of my brave, holy warriors fell to their knees in my presence, and I healed them of their wounds as my feet became caked in mud and muck. Sharp stones cut into me, and some fallen blades and shards of metal stabbed deep, but I ignored it all in favor of my fellow faithful.


    Yes.


    It is better to suffer this pain than to allow others to feel more terrible pains themselves.


    In a few moments, I reached it.


    The cordoned off areas where those who fell in battle awaited to return. Those tasked with finding the bodies were hard at work and clad in pure white robes. Their clothes were enchanted protected them, but in truth it was our soldiers who gave their lives to keep them hale. It was their duty to retrieve our fallen, and one took note of me and quickly signaled the others to arrange our people, while the altar at the center of the room was prepared.


    They worked silently and wordlessly with covered faces and only their eyes gazing past through slits in their porcelain masks.


    Before the altar, two met with me.


    One with fresh water and the other with the staff passed down from ancient times from one High Justiciar to the next.


    I barely took note of my wounds and the grime and muck which flowed onto the ground from my feet, as I took hold of the simple scepter of intertwining gold and silver.


    The moment I touched it, every time that I touched it, I saw the truth.


    I saw paradise.


    A land of lush green grasses and tall mountains and verdant forests. A land where herds of animals frolicked in nature without a care for anything. The skies were filled with pure white clouds where souls rested as orbs of light awaiting to be plucked away from their vivid dreams and fantasies. Beyond them half the sky was filled with stars and our moon unbroken, while the other half was bright day and the sun shone surrounded by clear blue. Crystal palaces constructed by those who died long ago were on the horizon, where they waited for guests and for calls to come forth and wage war.


    But we did not have the strength to reach them yet.


    The staff I held was not yet complete, and we were hard at work creating its missing portion in the shadow of our Citadel, so I could not call upon those perched on clouds nor those waiting in crystal spires and towers.


    No.


    I could only look around me, at those who did not wander past the empty plain where all began in paradise, and call upon those who chose to return.


    My ecstasy and joy at beholding paradise was undone with pride and honor at my fellow faithful.


    All who died today, once again, were kneeling and ready to return to their bodies.


    Ready to continue our crusade, despite paradise waiting for each and every one of them.


    The false master which has arisen has no hope of defeating us.


    For we choose to fight, instead of accepting paradise, no matter how many times it is offered to us.


    Our faith is beyond even death¡¯s reach.

 V6: Chapter 12

    <div>


    <section>


    </section>


    <div>


    V6: Chapter 12


    </header>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    ¡­


    They''re just out there losing soldiers like it''s nothing.


    I mean, I get it.


    The Wardens can bring their people back to life. The Guardians are mostly Undead. Finally, the Forgers weren''t losing that many soldiers, since they were covered in a small sedan''s worth of metal each¡­ but they were still losing soldiers.


    The Wardens can honestly afford it. If their Influence is high, they have no issues with resurrecting their troops. Resurrected troops might have lowered morale for a few turns, but with some investments and research, that morale debuff ceases to matter by the early mid game. Add a Champion to an army with the right buffs, usually a Warden themselves, and the resurrection for another fight would actually give their troops a buff for the next couple fights.


    However, the Guardians and the Forgers couldn''t afford the losses.


    Sure, the Guardians mostly lose skeleton hordes, but those skeletons still take time and money to equip. Their cost in gold is low, and so is their maintenance, but time and money are still valuable currencies. Not to mention the fact that even if you could use necromancy to create an army of bones from your fallen enemies, those skeletons aren''t exactly going to come out of their flesh prisons armed with rifles and covered in armor. I mean, they did in-game, but they certainly weren''t here.


    The Guardians were using their Undead hordes like they could afford to replace everything that they lost, but every coin spent replacing gear is coin not spent in building new buildings, creating new tile improvements, and maintaining infrastructure.


    Overall, Celia''s people needed to employ better tactics, because their long-term national strategy is going to be undercut otherwise.


    As for the Forgers, normally their tactics are fine. They''re a slow, armored glacier that loses few troops and dishes out a lot of damage. The problem was that, even in-game, they had the slowest rate of population growth. They don''t allow immigration of other mortals into their cities, they don''t have as many kids, and their eugenics programs have them getting rid of anyone they deem defective at birth. Then, of course, there''s the fact that if they''re too heavily injured and know that they''re likely to live crippled or without a limb¡­ they go out there and die in ''glory.''


    So, the Dwarves aren''t wasting much money or lives, but with their rate of growth/production capability, the casualties they''re taking is already horrible.


    In short, all three of my allies needed help.


    In fact, the only ''ally'' of mine that didn''t need help were the Merchants¡­ and I was basically using them as my personal bank.


    So, on top of besieging the enemy, infiltrating their ranks of mercenaries, and coordinating logistics and transport¡­ I also had to help my allies micro.


    Honestly, given how stupid the AI is in the game, I shouldn''t have been surprised that they were like this.


    Should''ve seen it coming.


    ¡­


    I arranged a meeting with Celia and surprisingly found her willing to meet with me within a week.


    Giving me just the right amount of time to meet with the Dwarves, before heading her way.


    The Forgers had their own manner of securing their territory. In-game, they made use of underground tunnel systems to connect resource extraction nodes to their main cities. Their playstyle was ''tall'' and focused on making a very, very good single city. Instead of towns, they had resource extraction nodes where other players would put towns, which would exploit the tiles and give town-like benefits, however they didn''t give more population like towns did.


    Eventually, with research and cultural change, they allow non-Forgers to live around these nodes and they develop into towns with those people in them.


    Notably, however, the name of the resource extraction nodes didn''t change.


    Why would they change when all it did was just extract more of another resource, which they''d need to send specialists over to manage?


    Yeah, the Forgers really can''t be reasoned with.


    They consider themselves, innately, as the only ''real'' people.


    Their ending only lets other races persist to become tools for them to use, which they''ll refine and force eugenics upon eventually, until they''re satisfied with their tools.


    Some idiots on forums point out that Forgers have it right, but Forgers will look at a non-Forger having a political opinion and require it be disposed of.


    Always remember: the racial purists and eugenicists think they and their people can reach perfection, while everyone else should be filtered out of the gene pool.


    They''re not good people and need to be put down.


    Anyway, I didn''t bother setting up a meeting with their King, since he''d just snub me out of principle anyway.


    I went and reached out for their field commander, got a meeting, and slapped down documentation on how they need to fight better within five minutes of meeting him.


    "General Erlan, pleasure to meet you. I''ve evaluated the situation and the various ongoing battles." I''d gone from the drop point in the fortress, through the guards after they patted me down, past the entourage set to greet me and provide for me, and walked straight into the general''s office. Their fortress was well-built with sturdy walls and good artillery, but honestly didn''t really have anything of note. Just walls, defenses, support structures, barracks, and a headquarters. Something I can have bombed into oblivion in a few hours. "I''m afraid the current method of fighting you''re employing is detrimental to your people in the long term. You need far less casualties, given the incoming calamities heading for our continent."


    All statements backed with reports gathered by my people.


    These guys don''t do diplomacy.


    Before the General could get a word in, I slapped down the first of my suggestions on the table.


    "The rate of your advance is too quick and your units are being flanked deep in enemy territory. They can withstand it and win, but it''s creating unnecessary casualties." The map I provided was of his unit locations in the last five weeks. It also recounted the amount of casualties we estimated his people took at those locations, and the casualties we verified coming into our transports to be flown back. That''s right. Using my transportation services is basically giving me information about your people non-stop. "My proposal is to trade you several firearms produced by my Citadel and increased supplies, so that you can leapfrog the construction of outposts which will provide covering fire to your troops."


    General Erlan was young for a Dwarf, meaning his beard was still a full brown and barely reached his sternum. His helmet cast a shadow down his brow and his eyes peaked behind a steel upper mask that protected his face. His armor showed signs of recent repair and even had dings and scratches on it.


    Not only that, but he was close to the front line and had no clan sigils on his chest. That meant he didn''t have a storied lineage. Expendable, but given how well the army has bene functioning and the shape of the fortress, that meant that he earned his place through merit. Forgers believed in merit despite one''s genetic predispositions¡­ for their own race. Then again, I doubted there were any elites here with storied bloodlines. Those weren''t deployed as Tier 1 Units.


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    An officer that rose up in the ranks and now commanded an army from the frontline suddenly found himself dealing with a king of another nation.


    It was easy to hear how this would go.


    "I will need to contact my superiors." Erland bluntly stated. "I have no right to broker deals between my nation and yours."


    "And, I have no time to spare to wait for your people to craft a perfect response. The Death Lord is here, you are losing men, and I want you to continue your march while suffering less casualties. So, hear me out." I gave the general a smile. The same smile I''d given since a child to those who I wanted to manipulate and who I wanted to trust me. I''d gone into the Citadel''s clinics just to get my teeth shiny and aligned just to beam and disarm those I spoke to. "I am planning an operation to take down one of the Death Lord''s generals. Not one of the tribal chieftains he uses as officers. A general in truth. I will give you all that I have stated in exchange for fifty of your finest."


    Trade offer: you get the ability to build outposts with artillery that can support your march and lower your casualty rate.


    In return: I get fifty heavily armored juggernauts that swing axes and hammers around like toys to use for a very, very violent assassination.


    Erland, naturally, hesitated.


    He had five thousand or so men at his command.


    A percent of that was my ask in exchange for increased support.


    I could see the gears rotating in his mind. The offer was good, but that wasn''t the clincher. Forgers calculate situations based on what they might lose just as much as what they may gain. That made them unwilling to compromise and horrible neighbors. They see peers with land as people who have stuff that they could be exploited, and other races as sub-human troglodytes that don''t understand how to produce a decent bloodline to help their species prosper.


    Honestly, they''re just as bad as the Children of Elm lore-wise and ending-wise, but I''ll use them to my own ends.


    When the troubles that need their help end, then I''ll handle them.


    Hopefully, with the destruction of their leadership and culture, they can be turned into a decent people.


    But that was for later.


    Erlan finished thinking it over and nodded.


    "They will need to be volunteers and I will tell them it is a suicide mission. But you will have your men, King of Wisdom, and I expect you to uphold your bargain."


    I gave the general a nod and turned on my heel while waving his way.


    "The supplies will be here in an hour. Try to get the men together within two weeks." Yeah, I knew you were going to agree. What are you going to do? Refuse all that I was offering when I just asked for fifty soldiers to help kill the enemy we''re all fighting? That''s would just be plain silly. "Don''t die. There''s many more foes in the coming years, General Erlan."


    With that handled, I''ll make a visit to Khalai before meeting with Celia.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    While Khanrow''s expedition had launched from our main Citadel at Talon Hills, heading southward, my men and I launched our own from the lands once held by the Children of the Elm. The easternmost point of our lands, we prepared to venture to find those who wielded the weapons of bronze and poison that the Ancients once faced.


    Traveling through the mountains for several weeks, we set watchtowers and observer posts and staffed them with men. We left them in warm, insulated towers with plenty of supplies, while we continued our path forward. With each tower made, with new magical beacons lit, from the air we received reinforcements and supplies and some of our number were rotated out.


    The beacons and towers were resupply points and relays for our fliers.


    So, even though the towers were difficult to build and we loathed to leave them, the promise of resupply and reinforcement made each one easier to stomach.


    Some of the men questioned why they were made so sturdy, why defenses were mounted on them, when most armies would perish trying to reach one.


    Then, we breached the endless storm that guarded the mountains and our homeland.


    Trees unlike any we''d ever seen before stretched endlessly before us. Rivers wider than most lakes snaked across the forest like immense roads. Flocks of massive birds flew across the air. Vines thicker than the arms of men hung up on branches and some of the vines were immense serpents. The ground was filled with life. Many creatures were venomous, and most of the plants were poisonous. Large predators stalked in every shadow, some in packs and others as lone kings of their domain. Some had fur hides, but most had scales and protruding bones, and claws instead paws.


    And, in the canopies of immense trees, there were many, many villages of creatures wearing the guise of bronze-skinned, tall women.


    We stayed hidden and quiet through magic and viewed our foes through familiars or through binoculars with tinted lenses¡­ and found the tribes to be monstrous creatures. They killed and used the monsters for materials for their homes and their weapons, but they preyed upon the lesser tribes of mortals and used them like cattle. Much like in the lands of the demons, our people existed in these lands as slaves and resources, but while they were sacrificed and used as labor by the Demons¡­ here they were flesh to be harvested.


    They were cannibals, and the ones who made use of healing magic regenerate the flesh of their prey. Not only that, but they used the poison they gathered to melt the living feasts they created into brews upon which they grew drunk. They took men from the lesser races as mates, ate them during coupling, and threw from their tree tops any child that was not of their kind. Their mages practiced magics and curses upon the regressed versions of ourselves, already struggling to survive the horrible environment, and turned them into living sacks of poison or forcing them to live as rotting husks¡­ simply for their amusement.


    We found hundreds of tribes, each warring with other over hunting grounds, and each one performing the same horrible actions.


    I wanted no more than to set their lands alight, to see their skies filled with fire, but I knew we could not.


    As we reached the first of their true cities, and found that unlike the Demons, they held a claim over the skies.


    Upon strange, un-feathered birds with long beaks filled with fangs and bat-like wings, whole armies rode to enforce the will of city-queens upon the surrounding tribes.


    But they did not have mounts alone.


    I knew not how, but their nobility had winged arms like Harpies, and those creatures could fly faster and longer than their aerial cavalry. They went forth to quell dissent or conquer tribes on their own, spreading poison and disease, and wading into battles with blades at their ankles which ripped through warriors with ease.


    Our efforts and work to create a line of beacons for our flying fortress made sense once I saw them.


    We will have need of such a great and terrible machine to put these monsters to the sword.


    </article>

 V6: Chapter 13

    V6: Chapter 13


    ¡­


    Alright.


    I¡¯ll admit it.


    I like the Warden gameplay style.


    There¡¯s just something fun about leading a nation with unbreakable morale that¡¯ll throw themselves endlessly at the enemy for you at practically no cost. Sure, if you¡¯re a coward, you play the Wardens of the Caverns with a cultural victory in mind¡­ but playing them as an endless crusade with endless armies armed with basic weapons is great, too.


    A tide of armies that get replaced whenever one is defeated with only distance from their resurrection point to the battlefield preventing them from reaching the fight. In games playing as the Wardens, you¡¯ll throw T1 armies at T3 armies like ammunition. You can just hit auto-resolve, feeding your armies into theirs, until they lose every unit that they have and die¡­ and next turn your armies are all back and marching to the front.


    The enemy cannot advance, if the bodies of our faithful are too high for them to climb.


    The heavens will it my comrades, and the heavens are good, therefore go forth and inflict violence and return to do your duty once you pass.


    Honestly, the Wardens are the most fun to play with a Domination Victory in mind. With them, losing an army isn¡¯t a lose-condition. You don¡¯t need to micro. All you need is enough Influence, which is called Faith in their faction, and production and you¡¯re all set. The player commands a wave of zealots across the land, barely investing in any expensive units that have armor, because it¡¯s just better to use normal, unarmored troops with decent attack and mobility like bullets against enemy armies.


    Their main issue is that instead of artillery units they have strong healers that buff their troops, which cost more Faith to resurrect.


    You can ignore that issue by not building them and just sticking with endless tides of resurrected bodies.


    Upgrade their base stats. Create industrial districts and military districts that increase their equipment values and veterancy whenever they spawn back in. Find the right Mercenary Champions and drug them up to the gills for higher movement speed, regeneration, and damage in exchange for dying at the end of a battle. Throw armies that never falter, that never retreat, that fight to the death, and come back after dying at the enemy. The AI can¡¯t handle it even when they¡¯re cheating at the highest level, and being able to defeat a dedicated Warden player and their armies is what separates the good players from the bad.


    Don¡¯t talk to me, unless you know how to construct an artillery killzone that can deal with charging, drugged up zealots with hyper-armor.


    If you can¡¯t, we can¡¯t be friends.


    Where was I?


    Right, I¡¯m off to give the Wardens metric tons combat drugs, give them some very experienced mercenary commanders, and give them free armor.


    The things I do friends.


    Anyway, that was just a quick drop off with Khalai and me having some tea, before I left to help out Celia.


    When I reached Celia, however, one of my priority messengers were waiting for me there¡­ and more of the Academy¡¯s bullshit came to light.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita.


    ¡­


    The control station was more heavily fortified that we expected.


    The two massive gates that were at its entrance was surrounded by an army of nearly two thousand. They housed themselves in tents and built the necessary facilities to support themselves. The control center also had exits and entrances to the surface near it that were under their control, which allowed them to hunt, scavenge, and accept supplies. Wooden walls and gates were constructed as defenses around the living space and they lit up the long tunnels with bright lamps to give those atop the walls a clear line of sight for a great distance.


    ¡°It''s almost like the remains of the Academy¡¯s armies are all here and quite a few Warlords.¡± Morgan gave a light hum. One of her hands was on the skull of a soldier that we captured from one of the above-ground patrols. It had only taken Morgan a moment to discern where the exits aboveground were relative to our position belowground, and after that it was just a matter of intercepting the enemy. We disappeared him away during a hunt, where he could¡¯ve died or deserted, and after our actions the camp¡¯s security did not increase. The man was comatose and twitching. With her free hand, she was writing all that she saw through his memories.  ¡°There¡¯s at least a dozen Champions here. How do you both feel about killing four each?¡±


    Though Morgan addressed us both, I knew that the question was directed to me.


    ¡°In the heat of battle, with their focus not on myself, then I can do it. However, the losses would be unacceptable.¡± I told her the truth, and she nodded idly. The forces at our disposal were composed of Iterants. Our king told us to value their lives and that they should not be wasted. If we sent them in, all twenty squadrons of ten, they would be able to massacre the common soldiers¡­ but they would fall against the Champions. My victories would hinge upon their sacrifices. Unacceptable. ¡°A frontal attack won¡¯t allow us to reach our long-term objectives, either.¡±


    ¡°Right, right. We¡¯ve still got to run the Academy down after this. We can¡¯t do that, if we lose our army. Ilych can only do so much.¡± Morgan let go of the man¡¯s skull and the man immediately started shaking violently in his chair. In moments, blood began to seep from his eyes, nose, and ears, and I knew that even though he breathed and his heart beat, there was no longer a soul to accompany the body and mind that remained. ¡°A diversionary tactic would be best, then. We pull away as many of them as possible with as little of our own, then hit what remains with all the strength we can muster.¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Morgan jammed a thumb at herself.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take a quarter of our forces and lure the enemy out from the other end of the tunnel. The two of you will go in, get the gate open, and pour in the weapon.¡± It was a declaration. A simple statement whereupon she said she would place herself at the most difficult of positions for the coming battle. There was not an ounce of fear in her eyes. In fact, there was a savage thrill in her gaze as a full grin formed on her face. ¡°What do you think I should bring into this battle? Sword? Spear? Axe? Ah, wait. I¡¯ll bring plenty and use what I want.¡±


    With that Morgan gave a hum and passed me the paper filled with information, then proceeded to leave with the intent of bringing her plan to fruition.


    I had no reason to believe that she would not succeed.


    I only cared about my own ability, Ilych¡¯s and our remaining warriors.


    ¡°We cannot wait.¡± Ilych stated simply, and I nodded. My thoughts had turned towards requesting more reinforcements. More Iterants, more weapons, and more of the poison that we developed. Seeing the force arrayed against us had me banished my concerns regarding the poison. It was the only way that we could overcome our current foe without taking valuable troops away from the frontline. Every single person who could fight was needed in order to prevent the Death Lord¡¯s forces from spilling over the entire continent. ¡°I¡¯m with you, Rita. We can win.¡±


    ¡°I know that we can, but I don¡¯t want it to cost us.¡± The Iterants were fanatical and ready to die. They did not cherish their own lives. The ones who had to care for them and their lives were those who led them into battle. Our king had bid us to care for them, to make them loyal to us, and to prove that we considered them valuable existences. A part of the world that we were fighting for like any other soldier we fought with. However, succeeding in our mission would save countless more lives by clearing away the barrier that protected the Academy from our reach. We could not allow another Citadel to fall to demonic corruption. Neither could we allow another Death Lord to be raised up by the Academy. Countless lives could be lost if we did, and every battle we waged against them used resources better spent against the coming calamities. ¡°There¡¯s too many there, Ilych. We need an advantage. Any advantage.¡±


    Ilych grunted for a moment, while I wracked my brain for any opportunity that I could not see.


    We sat contemplating for a moment, before suddenly Morgan arrived¡­ right next to one of herself.


    Of course.


    ¡°The Iterants can be used as more than warriors, you two.¡± Morgan lightly admonished us. There was no smile on her face, but there was neither any sign of her usual pride or humor. She was entirely dedicated to lecturing us without a hint of contempt in her eyes. I sighed and held back the warmth threatening to spill across my face, while Ilych gave a grunt and a nod of acknowledgement. ¡°We¡¯ve already discerned their schedules for their outbound patrols and supply trains and verified it. Look at the paper I left behind. Most of the information¡ªwait, do you hear that?¡±


    Morgan paused for a second, and before I could even register, she surged towards both me and Ilych and passed us both by.


    There was a clattering of metal, and suddenly between the two of us was a long, near-invisible blade.


    Morgan smashed something into the wall of the tunnel, punching through the tent wall that hid us in the darkness a distance from the  encampment, and spiderweb cracks formed along its length¡­ and blood splattered in every direction.


    Perfect application of physical enhancement throughout her body, coupled with instant casting of the right spell at the very right instant of contact.


    Whoever she had faced found their flesh ripped from their body with immense pressure as they were pinned to the wall.


    Leaving only tendon and bone with a skull leaking out pulped grey matter in Morgan¡¯s grip.


    A wave of pressure, used to scan our surroundings, swept through our encampment suddenly emanating from her.


    A pulse of gravity that took the breadth and measure of our whole company in an instant.


    ¡°¡­203 individuals left in our immediate vicinity, but we need to act fast. This was no normal opponent.¡± Morgan stated while flicking her reddened hand from her side. Blood splattered on the floor, while the flesh and innards sloughed off the wall. ¡°They¡¯ll notice that they¡¯re gone. Whoever that was.¡±


    That was a Champion, an individual who trained their entire life to be a silent killer, and who slipped past my senses and that of Ilych¡¯s.


    Someone on par with the likes of Khanrow and armed with an invisible, mystical blade.


    Morgan had dispatched someone of her grandfather¡¯s caliber in an instant.


    With our timetable shrunken by an immense degree, Morgan decided against teaching us and acted.


    ¡°Take the forms of goblins and lesser monsters. We play the part of a roving band of monsters heeding the call of the Academy¡¯s people.¡± A solution that never occurred to either of us, a perfect one that can be used without issue, left her lips. We followed her as she walked out. The commotion drawing our soldiers from the shadows. Their forms were pure black in the shadows, like figures of obsidian.  That one was my own idea, though I was sure it occurred to her. Even now, they began to take the shape of humanoid monsters. ¡°Look haggard and hungry. Weak enough that they¡¯ll wish to enslave you and make you pets. Harpies and feral beastwomen. As few men as possible. No, just boys.¡±


    Morgan¡¯s instructions and commands were like a wave, and our forces transformed, before she turned to the two of us.


    ¡°We¡¯ve no time for training. Ilych, you will charge in once chaos erupts from within. Head for the opposite gate and keep it shut. Kill everything in your path. Rita, you will support her from afar. Any Champion she faces dies the moment they give you an opening. No matter how small.¡± Morgan divested herself of her coat, which fell to the ground with a sound closer to metal than thread. She took a look at the dead soldier, nodded, and began taking off her pants and boots. ¡°Mangle those up a bit and give me that invisible blade.¡±


    Ilych handed her the blade, and she put its hilt in her mouth, while I mangled the boots and she ripped apart the pants.


    She was making herself out to be a captured prisoner of the monsters that she made the Iterants feign themselves to be.


    ¡°I¡¯d give myself a few wounds, but the blood will look too fresh.¡± Morgan idly commented, before turning her gaze towards the corpse. ¡°Ah, he¡¯ll do.¡±


    Without another word, she took the blood of the dead man and smeared it across her clothes, before shaking her head and making bangs to cover the front of her face.


    Hunched over, covered in brackish blood, and ill-fitted, ruined clothes¡­ she transformed just as the Iterants did.


    She was heading into an enemy camp without her tools and armor and trinkets with only an invisible blade whose exact enchantments she did not yet know.


    But¡­ I had no doubt that she would accomplish her mission.


    I only doubted my own ability.


    Such was the existence that was Morgan of House Darrin.


    She looked over her shoulder, standing tall after briefly hunching over and making herself small, and addressed the Iterants once gain.


    ¡°Strap the poisons to the backs of twenty. They¡¯ll stay behind. You¡¯re all going to run through and dump the substance in the control room the moment the gates open. Give us thirty minutes at most, then start running.¡± The Iterants all heeded her, and now they all had new faces and forms. The monsters that the Academy¡¯s army would see as prey for pleasure, when in truth they were all lethal opponents that would slaughter them in hand to hand. Most of all Morgan. She looked at us in the guise of a slave with only an unfamiliar knife in her possession. ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯ll be killing eight of the mass-produced fools. We¡¯ll find a better time for you two to learn later.¡±


    With those words, she bound her hands with rope handed to her by an Iterant, and allowed herself to be led into the encampment.


    I watched and waited to do my duty alongside Ilych.


    My only regret was that I would indeed learn less in this battle than Morgan intended.

 V6: Chapter 14

    V6: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    The gates opened.


    The predatory gazes of the soldiers of the camp wandered over them.


    Feigned screamed resounded for moments, as they were all dragged away to be used and discarded,


    Then, the true screaming began within the camp of two thousand soldiers.


    Past their frontline, past their armed companions, the rest of the camp had their arms and armor ready to be donned with aid from their fellows. Steel plates, sturdy shields, and sharp swords. More than enough to give the numbers that they had weight in these tunnels. Not only that but there were many mages and officers with equipment enchanted to greater heights, and there were Champions who held equipment scrounged from the ages of the Ancients.


    However, they saw an already defeated foe, toys to be used, and thus lowered their guard.


    So, mere minutes after their spoils were secreted away, true screams resounded through the camp, alarms blared for moments before being silenced, and then magic and explosives began to surge throughout the camp.


    ¡°That¡¯s our signal.¡± I told Ilych, and her response was to pull down the snarling face of her visor, and heft her massive blade over her shoulder. Her body contorted like a spring, on hand steadying all her frontal weight along with her sword, and pushing her back against her contorting legs. The segmented armor around her legs threatened to buckle, as they molded to her form closesly, but before they had the chance to change shape¡­ achieved the form she desired. A predator ready to pounce and bound just waiting for the signal. ¡°Head to the northeast quadrant of the base. Attract them. I¡¯ll kill them.¡±


    Ilych nodded a singular time and then surged forward as a blur of black armor.


    In her wake the bonfires lit by the base¡¯s patrols were blown away, every time her armored foot collided with the floor of the tunnel, there was the sound of shattering stone, and soon enough she was leaping over the wooden walls of the encampment¡­ and crashing into chaotic melee that had erupted within.


    Then, I waited, closed my eyes, and listened.


    I listened to the sound of crackling flames, the ripping and tearing of canvas tents, and the sound of flesh breaking or being torn. The sound of Iterants moving through the tunnels was like listening to large objects whistling through the air, their feet colliding with the floor was like glass striking glass, and I could hear the screams of their victims as they killed with their limbs turned into sharpened weapons.


    Past those Iterants, I heard something else.


    Morgan was attacking something, right after she left another individual gagging on blood pouring from his neck, and behind him was a woman desperately trying to right her broken neck as she wheezed through her contorted airway slower and slower with each breath. The man she was attacked was frantic, his footwork a scurrying stocatto against the tunnel floor, while he swung his sword at her. The sound of his blade was muddled, unclear, as panicked breaths left his lips and his heart beat like a drum. Morgan¡¯s gait was steady, calculated, and I could hear the breeze created by her swift, deft movements as she flowed past the swipes of a sword.


    Her constant, dedicated march grew closer and closer to her foe, until suddenly there was the sound of a whistling projectile and he gagged.


    The neck moment a singular step of hers became heavy, a rock flew from the floor to her awaiting hand, and then there was the noise of skull and brain breaking beneath stone.


    Then, Morgan went forth to find more opponents, so I listened for my friend.


    Ilych was a mass of metal and power. She plowed through tents, breaking frameworks into splinters, and colliding with lesser soliders and destroying them simply by barrelling into them. Her steps were like that of a titanic beast composed wholly of metal and everything its charge met became broken flesh filled with cracked bone. The swing of her sword reminded me more of a falling tree branch arcing through the air than a blade, so thick and heavy it was compared to a normal blade, and when it crashed into mortal bodies I heard them break and crack and pop apart like vases filled with thick mud, rather than people.


    I followed the sound of her charge, her existence was that of a hurricane gust surrounding a core of rippling metal, and listened to her cause havoc.


    Then, I heard her blade get stopped and for an unfamiliar voice to cry out.


    Three steps then came forth in unison after Ilych at that unfamiliar cry.


    The moment that I heard those experienced, steps, I looked towards the two Iterants each holding one of my legs I crouched low.


    ¡°Launch me.¡± I commanded, they obeyed, and I leapt and launched myself off their palms as they finished throwing me upward.


    I breathed deep, broke down every second of time to the tiniest fraction that I could muster, while forcing power and magic through my body.


    I twisted and turned my body, making it so my feet would collide with the roof, and the moment I made contact I cast a magic that would adhere me to the ceiling of the tunnel.


    Thus, I gained a vantage point that loomed over the whole battlefield, and when I opened my eyes I looked upon Ilych locked in battle with four Champions.


    Everything I could do to put strength and power into my body came into effect, but more importantly so did other effects. I gave my mind greater clarity, my eyes the means to see farther, and for my body to respond more quickly to my own will.


    I saw my targets.


    I found weak points.


    There were gaps in armor no larger than two fingers pressed side by side. Some were even smaller. The gap in a visor, the armpit when an arm was raised to bring a weapon up, and the side of a hip when a body contorted a bit to one side to swing from the right or left. I found them all, as I stood on the roof of the tunnel, swathed in darkness.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Then, I let my body act in my stead.


    Four times, I drew my arrows, pulled back the string, and fired. Each time felt like my body was pushing me out, like I was watching myself in action. Automatically, beyond my control, all my training and experience molded together. My nervousness, my concerns, and my fears faded into nothingness. All there was¡­ were the targets I needed to hit which my body sent arrows towards.


    The projectiles flew forth and my magic waned to minimal levels.


    Darkness crept into my vision, and it took all that I had to fall into the waiting arms of my Iterants, and even then all I could do was breathe and recover in their arms as I struggled to keep my bow up¡­ and listen to the battle.


    My arrows found their targets.


    Three struck true, one missed, but it was enough.


    The three that struck penetrated the defenses of the three. They hit their protective barriers and used the power I imbued within them to drill past their defenses. Winds pushed the arrows through, each with a broad head and half as tall as I, and scored direct hits on my foes as they focused on trying to kill Ilych. Through the armpit of one, my arrow burrowed and struck both lungs and a heart. Through the slit of one¡¯s visor, I skewered the brain. Finally, my last arrow went through a gap in the him armor and struck right where the spin connected with the pelvic bone.


    Only the one with the destroyed brain died instantly, but I gave Ilych two half-dead, crippled enemies and one that had to retreat instead of attack in synch with their fellows.


    She attacked, becoming like the center of a storm surrounded by hurricane winds guided by a hunk of metal more suited to be a ram than a blade, and the remaining three died.


    I calmed down in the arms of the Iterants that remained with me¡­ until Morgan spoke to me from the middle of the battlefield.


    ¡°Good work, but it¡¯s not done yet. We need to poison the control room.¡± She spoke like I was right next to her, aware of my hearing. Around her there was the sound of blood escaping through wounds and the desperate, labored breathing of those struggling to live. One of her hands held a rock extracted from the floor of the tunnels, cracking in her grip, while her other hand held the skull of a Champion with broken limbs barely alive in her grasp. I could hear her fingers digging into the man¡¯s skull. She grunted and got through and her magic seeped in. After a moment, she tossed him aside. ¡°I have the means to get inside. Come.¡±


    I heeded her commands, gathering the remains of my strength, and went forth.


    It was time to take control of this Ancient Wonder and then put the Academy to the sword.


    ¡­


    Good news.


    The Academy can¡¯t hide in the Ancient Tunnels since we managed to take over its ability to warp space.


    Bad news.


    Alistair and his most trusted escaped in the Ancient Transport, and Ilych and Rita were out for the count.


    ¡°It¡¯s my fault. I pressed them too hard, since the mercenaries were incapable of tying down the Academy forces after we took hold of the control center.¡± Morgan, Ilych, and Rita arrived a few hours after I read their report on the situation below. Just enough time to put the basic facilities together to receive and care for wounded, even though we were in Celia¡¯s lands. The Undead didn¡¯t exactly have infrastructure needed to accommodate rapid healing at their frontline. ¡°I have no excuse for allowing them to escape.¡±


    ¡°Besides being unable to follow an ancient construct that can fly faster and farther than anything we have?¡± I looked Morgan over, and she had a nervous grin on her face that made her eyes curl up. She scratched her cheek. Though Rita and Ilych looked battered and bruised after the battle, and most of the Forger mercenaries were dead, Morgan looked fresh and clean. I mean, she took some time to rest and relax before meeting with me, but she honestly looked fresh out of class rather than tracking down the Academy for months and then fighting two battles one after the other. ¡°I¡¯ll dock you two weeks¡¯ salary for not achieving your primary objective, but you¡¯ve achieved more than expected. Consider the lack of rest time after the mission your primary punishment, too. I want you working on intercepting them as soon as possible.¡±


    ¡°Understood, my lord.¡± Morgan nodded at my commands and gave a bow from the waist. ¡°By as soon as possible, do you mean¡ª


    ¡°If you believe you can do it efficiently now, then begin now.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± Morgan gave another bow, before turning on her heel to leave. However, she stopped at the flap of my temporary tent. ¡°My lord, I¡¯ll need a large budget and some select individuals¡ª


    I was already shooing her away before she finished.


    ¡°Your authority is not diminished. Do as I require you to with the powers you have been vested, Morgan.¡±


    With that she nodded and left, satisfied.


    Yeah, I get it.


    I can¡¯t take away the power I¡¯ve given you, Demon Lord. Those troops and the connections you need are yours.


    Honestly, I¡¯m hoping that the Iterants under her command will obey me when I ask, but just in case¡­ I was going to keep a full stack ready to deal with her inevitable betrayal.


    But back to more important matters.


    ¡°Are the deliveries coming along fine now, Ayah?¡± Ayah had been waiting while I spoke to Morgan. Dressed in the classic, French maid style, Ayah was pulling off the demure look pretty well¡­ as long as you kept your eyes above her neck. Sure, the clothes covered her up from head to toe, but the body shape it chose was well-proportioned and the clothes were meant to show that off. Not only that, but maid outfits don¡¯t need to have miniskirts or be sleeveless or have stupid amounts of cleavage. French maid outfits with the headdress and glasses are pretty much peak design. Anyone who thinks otherwise has no taste. ¡°No more disruptions because of the Harpies?¡±


    Naturally, our enemies had a brain between their shoulders, so they discerned that allowing me to transport whatever I wanted across the skies was not in their best interest. Especially since their decision to not engage me in the air resulted in their current predicament, where they were being slowly enclosed and finding themselves fighting multiple fronts. So, now, they were working hard to disrupt my logistics web connecting the whole alliance.


    Thankfully, Celia had a pretty good solution for the Harpies.


    The swarm-based AA turret was honestly an amazing piece of hardware. It took the corpses of dead birds and bats and turned them into drone swarms, which were meant to fill the air, provide cover for troops on the ground, and heavily harass flyers if not outright bring them down. Now, most of my aerial cavalry knew how to protect themselves and charge against swarms of small creatures to pulp them, I didn¡¯t want flocks of birds to fuck over my bombing runs, but Celia had more than just a few of the turrets.


    In fact, she practically gave me a hundred of them without complaint.


    ¡°The defenses provided by the necromantic swarms have proven to be very effective. Our supply lines are secured against the Harpies of the Death Lord. Surplus supplies are flowing into the hands of the Guardian¡¯s undead legions.¡± Ayah reported simply. Since I was out of contact with most of my bureaucracy, the task of taking in all reports and condensing them to useful information fell on the Ancient Administrator. Thankfully, Ayah was good at it and didn¡¯t mind. ¡°A few of the rifles and ammunition cases have disappeared, too.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Celia was taking everything I was willing to give, taking some more, and not hesitating to ask me for more. She was losing face for it, but she wasn¡¯t stopping, and I approved. Influence is generated over time, and the victories she was earning was going to outweigh the costs. No one will be complaining when they start getting better guns, they start winning more battles, and their people come back home whole and hale instead of in coffins.


    Ayah cleared her throat and drew my attention.


    ¡°My lord, the force you¡¯ve assembled is ready. Do you still intend to deploy them against the Death Lord when the Academy is ready to be hunted down?¡±


    Now there¡¯s a question for me to think about.


    On one hand the Academy¡¯s still a massive threat and they have a flying machine that I wanted.


    On the other hand, the Death Lord needed to get put down before he built up even more.


    Decisions, decisions¡­ is what I would say, if I didn¡¯t have Morgan hounding the Academy.


    ¡°We¡¯ll hit the Death Lord with the Forgers. The Academy is Morgan¡¯s prey.¡±


    Think fast, you slimy weasels.


    A ridiculously overpowered young woman is coming after you and I¡¯ve told her to not take prisoners.

 V6: Epilogue

    V6: Epilogue


    ¡­


    Interlude: Alistair, the Exile


    ¡­


    A monster.


    The King of Wisdom plucked a monster from the depths of hell and set her upon me like a creature of nightmares in the guise of a young woman.


    "Master, you shouldn''t be up."


    "I''m fine." Pain from the wound in my side erupted as I settled into the seat of the ''cockpit'' of the Ancient craft. Lessons given to me by my father took control. In moment, I was guiding it through the skies on instinct. Freer than any other in the planet below. In the craft, I could see the curvature of the planet and the stars above were an endless sea. "I can do this much, Belford."


    My familiar nodded at my words, while I winced again at the stabbing pain in my ribs.


    A simple rock had been flung at me as the hatch closed, yet if I had not dodged the projectile I would''ve perished. Instead, the speeding weapon cracked two of my ribs as it glanced off of me. If I had not dodged, it would''ve sent shattered pieces of rib into my lungs and killed me.


    The hateful gaze of the creature the King of Wisdom plucked from the abyss was a silver lining in our hasty escape.


    However, I knew for fact that it hunted me even now and it would not stop until I was dead.


    "Master, the station is ahead."


    "Handshake protocol is engaged." I grimaced as eighteen warnings came up in Ancient Script. Fifteen were familiar to us, but three were new. Energy reserves failing. Unable to maintain orbit. Defensive perimeter breaking down. I understood. This secluded island, hidden away by magic and technologies long lost, was at its end. The Citadels rising must have undone the ancient seals used by our forebears to protect us. "This may be the last time we enter this sacred place."


    The Silver Tear was named for it shape. Eight generations ago, this place called upon our transport as we first managed to push it past the clouds. As its name implied, the structure hung in the air and was shaped like a droplet and most of its hull was a shiny, smooth silver seemingly without any point of entry. In the first entries describing it, the hull was described as completely silver and smooth¡­ but over the centuries it incurred damage.


    Black spots and burns suffused its hull, more and more warnings came alive whenever we approached it, and now I could see that it was soon to be gone.


    But this last moment here is all that we required.


    The hull opened and our craft flew itself in¡­ and we waited until the hangar doors opened, before we exited. We breathed crisp, cool air and walked through the metal construct''s hangar with our weight greatly lightened due to our distance from the planet below. Lights glowing a dim blue came alive, granting us sight of the empty hangar where once dozens of transports must''ve once lay. A brief count of the panels told me that there were more nonfunctional than the last time I came.


    This place was fading away, but it will render onto us one last service.


    "Follow me, the others can stay in the transport. Ensure the cabin is locked."


    "Yes, master." Belford did as I bid and followed me as I walked through the small structure. It was a marvel, but it was small by design. A final domicile amidst the stars as all others lay in ruins. How much effort and blood did it take the Ancients to send this upward in their waning days? Such was a question I wished to discern and discover in my fading days, when I entrusted my duties to an heir. That day shall never come. The Academy was gone. "What are we searching for?"


    "The last vault of this place, which we left here." We retrieved the corrupted blade from here to deliver to the Conquerors, and that had been the second to last vault. Now I knew not where it was, but the King of Wisdom most likely found a way to handle it, encased it in some substance like lead, and carted it to the nearest smelter. That thing was lost to us, and all the other treasures sealed were used and gone. This one was the last and most powerful. My side ached as I entered the hall where my ancestors once stood, Belford loomed behind me, ready to help me. We reached the final door before I succumbed to weakness. It opened and revealed the final treasure. "There it is¡ªhrrk."


    Pain flowered through my chest.


    I lost feeling to my legs.


    Then, I fell forward onto pool of blood steadily flowing from where my had been.


    Belford then stepped ahead of me and took the last, final treasure contained by the Ancients into his hand.


    I determined what happened in an instant¡­ and choose my last words.


    "You fed upon me as I lay unconscious, as you aided me."


    "I did, my dear master. I did." Mirth filled Belford''s voice, especially as he read the ancient script and looked upon the treasure. With little hesitation after finishing, he opened his mouth, filled with rows and rows of teeth¡­ and consumed it. Glass and forbidden elixir flowed through him and entered his gullet. That injured him. Those of my retinue in the transport will die to feed him. "And, now, for the first time in centuries¡­ my bloodline is free."


    Darkness crept into my vision slowly as pain faded.


    "And, now, I take the final miracle left behind by my true creators." Belford gloated and relished in the lie he and his forefathers were given. This was a facility contained several things. Some were called treasures. Others dangerous assets. He and his ilk were the latter. Not truly mortal and not construct composed of technology and magic. A weapon that held promise, but ultimately was considered a failure. I was tempted to correct him, but I knew better. I needed to choose my final words well as my life ebbed low and the darkness creeped in my vision. My final action drew near. "This shall complete me, even though you wasted all the gifts that were meant to be mine and my family''s."


    He struck me with such precision in order to keep me alive. He did so¡­ so that he could gloat, so that I would feel his betrayal, and satisfy his base desires.


    And, continue to believe the lie that he was fed like a complete and utter fool.


    Instead of obliging him, after I was satisfied by my curiosity of my failing, I decided to act.


    Out of pure, simple spite.


    I spoke in ancient script, as my father taught me, as was the method to control Belford and his lineage. "Priority command: self-destruct protocol commence."


    I could hear Belford''s sneer in his voice, when he addressed me again.


    "I am beyond you, my dear master. I have been beyond you since I supped from you one last time. I only needed you to gain entry to this place and retrieve my birthright."


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Despite it all, despite all sensation leaving me, and despite the facts that my thoughts should be on my failures and my regrets, I instead laughed and spoke to him one last time.


    It will not kill him.


    Not with the asset that he consumed, but those that followed here me will not be consumed by him, and it will harm him immensely.


    He will take hold of the remains of the Academy henceforth, but my most loyal and most talented will not fall to him.


    "Fool." I whispered with the last of my strength as I lay upon a pool of my blood. At least, I managed to spare my last, faithful followers the shame of dying to a fool and a weapon bereft of any soul. "Those words weren''t for you. They were for the Silver Tear."


    I did not know how Belford reacted, if his face contorted in surprise or terror, but I did know that he broke into a run instantly at my words.


    But the deed was done.


    Alarms began to blare.


    Blue lights turned red and began to flicker.


    A great, terrible engine roared to life one last time.


    Knowing thus, I allowed myself to remember the Academy, its halls of learning, its verdant fields, and lands filled with the true inheritors of the Ancients.


    A place where we lived as lords over all other races, where we would retake the world entire, and the stars in the future.


    As I died, I held hope in my heart for the future.


    The King of Wisdom slaughtered the Children of the Elm and scattered them to never gain strength again.


    Even now, he conquers and subjugates them to do as he bids.


    Perhaps, in time, he will act as a true master of the world should take hold of the wheel, of creation itself, and subjugate all others.


    This world was ours.


    No.


    This world and all the stars were ours.


    With that final thought, a screaming alarm reverberated through the Silver Tear, I felt a faint rumbling through my cooling blood, and then a brightness that pierced for a moment the darkness that overtook my vision.


    Then, nothing at all.


    ¡­


    The Wraith Champion. They had the Wraith Champion. No wonder the Academy got away with so much bullshit.


    "Ayah, prepare to send a priority message to Morgan. We''ve got trouble." We were with the Forgers'' fortress again and coordinating our upcoming strike against one of the generals of the Death Lord. My intention was simple: knock down the boss monster''s pillars of support until it stood alone. As mighty and strong as it was, it couldn''t rule and lead armies on its own. "I''ve read about the creature she described in her report. The one that saved the Academy''s upper leadership."


    "I''ll send a runner for the messenger on standby. What''s the priority level?"


    "Critical. There''s no way to kill what they''re facing now." The Wraith Champion is a shitty, event-based one that''s a great advantage on the Intrigue Layer. An Ancient attempt to create a super-spy, it''s basically a living shadow that has some meat parts tethering it to the mortal coil. If the meat parts get destroyed, it can just regenerate new ones and come back. As long as you couldn''t hit the ''shadow'' part, the ''living'' portion could just come back. "She needs to hit that thing with a ton of magic. Not just¡­ hit it with a brick or something."


    Morgan was really living it up fighting on the front now. The Demon Lord unit used loads of weapons while fighting, flash-forging them on the fly out of flame and steel, and making them blow up into explosive shrapnel after each use. Swords, claymores, axes, and more would be used to smash apart veteran, fully-upgraded Units by the dozen, and it would only stop using them if you got it to half health.


    Then, it''ll start pulling out all the strongest spells in the game, so it''s time to send in the Champions rather than your armies.


    Anyway, since Morgan was only using basic weapons and throwing them away after breaking them, I could assume she never reached half-health in her assignment.


    Not a surprise, but I wasn''t about to wait for that to happen.


    "Any magic in particular which it should be weak to?" Ayah inquired and placed a cup of fresh tea on my desk. Since I planned on staying with the Forgers for a few weeks, I had my usual setup flown in. The villa wasn''t built yet, so I was working in a command tent retrofitted to act as my suite for the time being. It was good enough to get me to work at eighty percent efficiency or so. "Morgan will surely be able to learn whatever she needs."


    Great, my Ancient Administrator is starting to admire the Demon Lord that I''ve got on my retinue.


    "Flame and lighting and holy magic most likely. All three would be best. Tell her she can ask the Wardens for tutoring, if she thinks she needs it." I didn''t want the Wraith continuing to exist, especially since it wasn''t working for me. It''s a pain to put down on the battlefield, and a gigantic pain the ass with all its intrigue bonuses. Thankfully, I had the Panopticon ready and I was establishing versions of it in each city. Try disguising yourself as one of my people when I''m watching them all at the same time. Make my job easier, please. "Also, tell her if she can''t find a lead within fifteen weeks, it''ll be a sub-priority. I want her for the fight against the Death Lord."


    That statement had Ayah raise an eyebrow.


    "The Death Lord will be within our reach in such a short amount of time?" Did Morgan looking that good make Ayah question my own abilities? Or, maybe, I was being paranoid and she was just questioning the fact that I could predict the final siege against an opponent that the whole continent was barely keeping in check. Whichever the case was, though, the right answer was to get rid of any doubt of my ability. "How?"


    I sat back in my chair and answered as evenly and calmly as I could.


    "That''s when all the mercenaries we sent in starts poisoning all their food and water. And, that''s also when we''ll have enough to start a bombing campaign."


    Decapitation strikes on leaders.


    Mass poisoning of their army''s food and water.


    Aerial bombardment of military and non-military structures under the Death Lord''s control.


    "Either the Death Lord moves and exposes himself, or we kill everything under his control. That''s how I know we''ll need Morgan by then."


    Game tip: you can speed up your conquest of regions and kill bosses more quickly by committing war crimes.

 V7: Chapter 1

    V7: Chapter 1


    ¡­


    Use every advantage possible to win every fight.


    Now, on the surface, that seems crazy to say. There should be limits to warfare, like not causing excessive suffering. If you¡¯re going to kill someone, make sure that it¡¯s clean, quick, and painless. While I¡¯m tempted to call that stupidly idealistic, if I¡¯m going to get killed, I¡¯d like to die cleanly, quickly, and painlessly, too. No one wants to stare down the barrel of a gun and die, but I¡¯m sure most people will take that over getting their guts blown out in the woods to be eaten by animals.


    However, in the end, that¡¯s a personal preference on my part.


    As a leader, though, I can¡¯t really refrain from committing atrocities.


    Look, if you¡¯re putting more money into your military than your next three competitors combined and have no hostile countries at your borders, you should be held to a higher standard by your populace. They¡¯re giving you trillions over decades to spend on the military, you¡¯re spending the taxes that their kids will be paying you, and the citizenry are going without health insurance so that you can get a set of new supercarriers.


    At the very least, you should try to keep your fights above the belt, if you¡¯ve got those advantages.


    However, I¡¯m not in that position of power.


    Most of my nation¡¯s productive capacity is being invested into securing my territories, and the rest is being used to upgrade my economy so that my economy can improve my economy by itself soon. Most of my soldiers are people that I¡¯d rather be back home, making stuff, popping out babies, and paying taxes. The equipment they¡¯ve got isn¡¯t easily replaced, the training that they¡¯ve received cost me time and money, and finally I¡¯ve barely got¡­ little more than two million people tops? Half of that was in just my capital, too.


    I¡¯m not in the position to hit only above the belt, because to do so would be giving up lives, resources, and time that I¡¯ve spent on my forces.


    And, most importantly, the people I lose now will be people I won¡¯t have ready to fight in the future.


    So, there you have it.


    I need to assassinate my enemies.


    I need to poison their wells and their food stores.


    I need to use every underhanded tactic that I¡¯ve got to win.


    Because, quite frankly, with everything that¡¯s on the line, it¡¯ll be irresponsible of me not to do everything that I can to.


    That¡¯s my story and I¡¯m sticking to it.


    I¡¯m totally not hitting the war crimes button just because it solves problems that I¡¯d rather not deal with.


    ¡­


    Since I decided to make the Forger¡¯s base my starting point, I¡¯d told my support column to establish a forward operating base where they were.


    So, instead of happening upon the same sturdy, but spartan fortress once I returned, tons of supplies and prefabricated structures and troops encircled the position. Land was cleared and stamped down with the help of mages, trenches were built, latrines set up, and water towers established. A network of squat, wide towers manned by Conquerors with big guns were built the outer edges with overlapping fields of fire and trenches and defenses connected them. They were mini versions of the flak towers used by Germany back home. Past that perimeter, there were tall, wooden observation towers, some anti-air nest, and every block or so there was a simple shelter set up with sandbags and slabs of rock, in case we had an air raid come at us.


    It was a wide base with multiple redundancies, and I made it that way in case we didn¡¯t detect a powerful mage and they got close enough to launch something nasty.


    Yeah, spacing is very important.


    Naturally, General Erlan was a bit nicer to me when we met again.


    ¡°King of Wisdom.¡± He greeted me with a grunt, but he raised his hand towards me for a handshake. That was pretty much leaping into the air and hollering thanks my way in his culture. I took his hand and gave him a firm shake. It felt like shaking hands with warm marble. Not an exaggeration. He¡¯s well-built, but flame resistance and damage resistance racial passives came with physical changes. The dwarf-analogues of this setting had rock-like hides. ¡°This is much in exchange for the fifty warriors you¡¯ve requested.¡±


    ¡°Plans have changed. I¡¯m fighting right alongside you here.¡± Overhead there was a constant stream of transports pulled by winged horses dropping onto dirt runways. Supplies, soldiers, and equipment were flowing in here. This whole operation is well-practiced. Orthodox, I¡¯d hoped to honestly call it. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that I¡¯ll be needing more than fifty soldiers.¡±


    Erlan stroked his straight, brown beard and peered up at me through the shadows of his helmet.


    ¡°This is within the terms of the alliance against the Death Lord. You and your forces are simply here instead of on the other side of Academy territory.¡± Ah, how I wish that I don¡¯t need to rip your people out of your city, eradicate your culture, and make sure you all don¡¯t ruin the entire world. You Forgers are honestly great allies. If only you weren¡¯t extremist eugenics that see other mortal races as assets to be exploited. We could be friends. ¡°What is your plan? How many of your soldiers will be here? Will a Champion be present?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got someone on the way and two recovering. One of my armies will be here. The other will be putting the pressure on from the other side.¡± Two armies. Four thousand heavy pike, three thousand rifles, a thousand mages, a thousand heavy ground cavalry, and a thousand aerial cavalry. With the support elements for them, just to keep everything running smoothly, there was another seven thousand people. Seven people to take care of food, clothes, and keeping everything tidy for every ten people. Honestly, it was barely enough and we could only get away with so few on the logistical side due to literal magic making things like cleaning, getting fresh water, and keeping fires going that much easier. The expenses for two armies are frankly eye watering and I¡¯m going to need at least two dozen more. A quarter of a million professional soldiers and nearly a fifth of a million supporters for the final fights¡­ I¡¯d give myself a 30% chance at managing to hold the front with that much and all the tricks I can come up with. ¡°With your forces, we should be able to punch through their front, especially with the tricks I¡¯ve cooked up.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Tricks?¡± Erlan questioned and I obliged him with an answer.


    ¡°Most of the mortal mercenaries they¡¯ve got are under my payroll. They¡¯re setting up the trap now. Poisoned supplies, assassinated officers, and sabotaged defenses. The works.¡±


    ¡°I see. I have been told by scouts that many of the non-monsters flee instead of attacking. We do not give chase.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. They¡¯re paid enough to risk dying to our forces.¡±


    ¡°Quite the callous way of considering your fellow mortals.¡± That was a statement on Erlan¡¯s part. He was testing me. Was I fine with getting people I hired killed for information security? I met his stare and I didn¡¯t flinch. He nodded, and he backed down. ¡°I see.¡±


    The people I sent in went in there went knowing they¡¯ve secured futures for their families, or at least got enough money to live life to the fullest before leaving to risk it all. Every single mercenary working with the Death Lord now were fighting for my sake, risking their lives against the entire world, and they were being paid handsomely to risk death and pave the way for the soldiers I couldn¡¯t afford to lose.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to wait for a week or so for the Guardians and Wardens to mass up. The Merchants are sending in funds, as well. Until then, let¡¯s train up our formations to work together.¡± I offered the general my hand and he nodded after a moment to shake it once again. ¡°Rest assured, General, I¡¯ll be doing my best to keep your men and mine alive, while killing as many of those of the Death Lord¡¯s as possible.¡±


    I had to lay it on thick, since Erlan belonged to a race that didn¡¯t trust anyone outside of their own to do things right.


    Therefore, I cheered inwardly when he nodded and decisively shook my hand.


    ¡°This is better than sending fifty warriors off to die in a mere assassination.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t lie, it¡¯s nice to play things straight, but I¡¯d rather my target be dead than fighting against us.¡±


    ¡°Hrrm.¡±


    I¡¯ll play nice, until I do what I need to do, before you kill the rest of us off.


    ¡­


    I blinked at the sudden shadow cast over me and looked up to find Ilych looming over me with her helmet at her side.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be recovering.¡±


    ¡°I will recover faster by fighting.¡±


    ¡°You know what, that¡¯s a good point.¡± Ilych had the full not!Berserk armor set now and it¡¯s adapted to her perfectly. The various plates and pieces were streamlined and less jagged now and seemed to smoothly glide over each other. Beneath the armor was a second layer which looked more like muscle fibers than thread or metal. The cape was no longer tattered and in spite of the wind it fell back from Ilych¡¯s shoulders and didn¡¯t move an inch. Black ¡®fur¡¯ covered her shoulders where the cloak wrapped around the shoulders of the armor, and they also didn¡¯t sway with the wind. It was all metal, and with a few thousand more kills, it¡¯ll really come to life. ¡°Come take a seat and eat, though. We have some time before we need to engage.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    After meeting with Erlan and getting my forces assembled, we sent out armed patrols. I wasn¡¯t at the point where I could send fifty men into enemy territory and expect them to kill everything vaguely hostile, yet. The average patrol of a US army group was still far superior to anything I could muster. Pound-for-pound, the average group of infantry performing a regular patrol could wipe the floor with the same number of troops I could muster, so I had to get creative.


    By creative, of course, I meant I used Conquerors as force recon soldiers instead of regular humans.


    The replacement for a marine squad with a vehicle is a nearly ten-foot tall, superhuman from a militaristic society armed with a gun that can blow apart horses in a single shot and with a massive axe as a backup weapon.


    Yeah, if you think about it, modern soldiers are just grossly overpowered.


    Anyway, once the sabotage operations were underway, I sent teams of ten of them forward to do operator/commando stuff.


    I had a limited number of Conquerors, and they were the only ones who could use the biggest guns and best explosives that I could mass-produce, so anyone not manning the defenses and practicing their aim were special forces. Teams of ten trained to live off the land, eating whatever they needed to live, fight with their guns, their axes, or their bare hands, and kill. Kill and win through attrition against the enemy in their own home territory.


    It was a heavy duty, the hardest duty I¡¯d ask anyone for, and the Conquerors all but fought amongst themselves to be part of the five hundred or so that I had the time, money, and assets to invest into.


    Now that I thought about it¡­


    ¡°After you eat, there¡¯s one last commando group waiting to leave before nightfall.¡± Ilych listened intently. She¡¯d stopped talking about stuff like the winds, unless prompted. In fact, she barely talks when not prompted nowadays. Was it a choice to be more introverted? If this was in-game, I¡¯d submit a ticket about voice blurbs bugging out. Here, though, it might just be the constant combat and butchery getting to the young woman. So, I didn¡¯t ask. Sorry, but short of a mental break, I can¡¯t afford to take someone off the line. ¡°Their mission is to pave the way for our army going forward. Bait them into our forces and our lines, kill any officer that you find, and once confronted by an actual army you¡¯re to retreat towards our main force.¡±


    ¡°I understand and I will obey.¡± Ilych dipped her head down in assent, and I considered that the end of the conversation until she spoke up. ¡°After this battle, I want more training in leading armies. I have learned all I can as a frontline Champion.¡±


    Oh?


    Ilych¡¯s developing into another skill tree as a field commander?


    Sign me up.


    Nothing better than a field commander that can handle whole portions of the enemy army!


    ¡°Done. I¡¯ll have a spot assigned to you in our university by the start of next year.¡± I¡¯ll review the curriculum beforehand to get her on the right track. I couldn¡¯t call up the pop up screen, but I could make a series of guesses. There were only eighty or so field command Champion skills and they generally fell under three different playstyles. Defensive, offensive, and support skills. The best was support skills for field commanders, since they were totally dedicated to buffing troops. Hopefully, Ilych didn¡¯t pick anything stupid up and get like thirty percent fire rate increase for Children of the Elm ranged units. That would just be stupid. I¡¯ll find out soon enough with the curriculum I was drafting in my head. ¡°What do you have in mind?¡±


    Ilych pondered the question for a moment and diverted her gaze to the bright blue sky above us with a constant stream of transports pulled by winged horses coming in an out.


    I¡¯m liking where this is going.


    ¡°I would like to acquire a strong mount. One that can fly and fight with me on the battlefield, and allow me to look down and guide my troops. I want to know everything about leading the army we now have.¡± Ilych stated and I had to hold back from giving a cheer of victory. She¡¯s unlocked her Skil which gives her an epic mount and she¡¯s going for a support build that provides general improvements to all troops. Perfection, especially since I wasn¡¯t going with a single mortal race for my armies. ¡°I will need time to find such a beast and to learn all that I need, your majesty.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll have both.¡± I confirmed with a nod. It was a small victory, but it was a great nonetheless. The first, real crisis wasn¡¯t here yet, but I¡¯ve got a Champion halfway to max level. At this rate, I¡¯ll have the dozen or so max-level Champions that I need for the final fights. It¡¯s worth the price of having Ilych not around for a few years. ¡°I look forward to your results, Ilych.¡±


    She gave me a nod and left after that.


    For the first time in a long time, it felt like something was going to plan and it was great.

 V7: Chapter 2

    V7: Chapter 2


    ¡­


    So, what are the results of several years of setting the Chosen One through dozens of events, expeditions, and battles? In-game, experience can be gained through all three and even just administrating a city. The main difference with those three and administrating is that there¡¯s multipliers for exp for events, expeditions, and fights. It¡¯s more efficient to have your Champion encounter weird shit, go on adventures, and fight in battles and not just one of each. Sure, you could do it, but it¡¯s giving up at minimum a twenty percent bonus to EXP growth.


    Not sending your fighting Champions on wacky, zany adventures on top of their constant fighting for their lives is sub-optimal.


    Therefore, it is bad.


    Anyway, power-levelling is still a thing. Sending in a geared-up Champion to massacre ten-thousand standard mortals will still make their levels go brr. However, there¡¯s not that many neutral mobs stupid enough to amass in such numbers to make it efficient. You can pull it off once or twice with AI factions. However, enemy nations will, of course, target and murder your Champion if you have them running around without any supporting elements before they can get fed.


    It¡¯s much safer and more reliable to keep them in an army, or with a supporter that can take out other Champions, and just set them loose on auto-explore. They trigger events, they search ruins, and kill things that they encounter for several years. Then, they come back to the Capital once for some equipment upgrades, to attend the massive university you¡¯ve built, and receive some things you forgot to give them¡­ and they never return to the capital again for the rest of the game.


    Such is the life of a Champion that¡¯s needed for the late game.


    You send them out to get strong, and once they¡¯re strong, you send them out to kill everything until the game is done.


    Ilych went out into the world armed with just regular equipment and barely any renown, yet now she¡¯s decked out in a full equipment set, can murder just about everything I send her at, and looks like she¡¯s expanding towards commanding armies, too.


    On the surface, it looked everything was going as it should, but after all the changes to different events I¡¯ve encountered¡­ it was better to be safe and see actual results.


    And, I was glad to find my fears unfounded as the reports started coming in.


    Ilych was doing her job and ripping through the enemy just like I needed to.


    ¡­


    Of the ten Conqueror Commando teams sent in to wreak havoc, it was no surprise that Ilych¡¯s team was the best.


    They had a Champion at their disposal, after all.


    However, I don¡¯t mean to degrade the other teams in the slightest. They went into enemy territory in the dead of night, using the first parachutes we¡¯ve ever designed to land in enemy territory. Their natural night vision allowed them to approach small outposts and enemy bases and wreak havoc. You¡¯d think hulking masses of muscle would be easy to spot in the dark, but they were also provided camouflage and stealth training. Every single one of them had to evade pursuit from aerial scouts, trained hounds, and light cavalry for three whole days or manage to exfiltrate from the training area they were set in without being detected or leaving behind any evidence.


    Each training area shifted between groups, ranging from plains, to mountain valleys, forests, and even dessert.


    The Conqueror Commando teams didn¡¯t disappoint in the slightest.


    They killed patrols silently, clambered over wooden palisades surrounding outpost with ease, and threw rocks to kill sentries. They can throw a five-pound rock like a fastball with deadly accuracy, making it easy for them to kill in absolute silence. When inside the enemy base, they either killed everyone inside with melee weapons or set charges to blow inside with our first iteration of remote detonating bombs, which still needed cords to work, but instead of a plunger box used a spark of electricity made by magic that traveled into the explosive charge.


    Their larger guns came and real skills came into play when facing the Death Lord¡¯s strongholds, which were small fortresses made in the ruins of Academy towns. The Academy had a penchant for building strong, sturdy structures and they used the ruins to build rudimentary fortresses with stone walls and protected it with their mages against magical attack. They cleared out the surroundings, set up fires around it through the night for their sentries, and were going to use them as strongpoints against their enemies.


    Each commando came armed with an anti-material rifle with bullets designed to explode and scatter shrapnel over a wide area and fifty rounds of ammunition each. Five rounds rapid from ten commandos might not seem like much, but each round had the same lethal kill radius as a hand grenade. Ten guns shelling the same area with great accuracy, each section chosen ahead of time, and every mage found and targeted first¡­ well, the results spoke for themselves.


    Most of the people in those fortresses died to withering fire streaming in from the darkness, ripped apart by shrapnel or blown up. Then, whatever survivors arrived would find themselves set upon by Conquerors armed with explosives and melee weapons, while their whole base ran around screaming and in panic and with no one knowing what to do. Before they could mount a defense, before they could put their advantageous position and numbers to use, they were cut apart or could do nothing as explosives were set up and blow up from a safe distance.


    From their reports, and aerial reconnaissance¡¯s reports, wherever they went, the defenses broke down.


    As they should.


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    Ilych¡¯s results, meanwhile, were above expectations.


    ¡°We have a breakthrough, Erlan.¡± I handed the Forger general the report. We were traveling just a few miles away from the front, away from line of sight of any enemy mages, in the command group. The Forgers implemented a similar command system to mine. High-ranking officers near the front to command the strategic effort, while regular officers were given objectives to achieve. Actually, everyone implemented something along those lines, probably taking it for themselves after seeing the success of my campaigns. ¡°Ilych¡¯s managed to bound forward again.¡±


    ¡°The Sword of Wisdom lives up to her name.¡± Erlan rode a golem/rock construct cross-legged. His legs weren¡¯t suitable for donkeys or mules, let alone horses. I didn¡¯t like riding on horseback, but it was better than walking, and being high up in the hair so close to the front was just asking for trouble. So, a horse was necessary to keep up with the advance. ¡°We¡¯ll be able to travel until nightfall, then.¡±


    ¡°Right. We¡¯re ahead of schedule.¡± Ilych was a force of nature that swept through the enemy. Thanks to getting the time needed to mature and to improve, and grind out levels, she was probably the highest level Champion on the board. She ran into enemy fortresses and devastated them, patrols practically disappeared in her presence, and everything short of another Champion was basically a speed bump at best. These reports weren¡¯t just from her, but from the commandos basically following her around, and reports from aerial reconnaissance. I really needed my guys to figure out photography, or at least some sort of spell that did something similar. I didn¡¯t exactly have time to go to a devastated fortress and go ¡®yep, they¡¯re dead.¡¯ ¡°That means we probably won¡¯t have the reinforcements your people have promised.¡±


    Erlan nodded at my statement.


    ¡°It is unlikely that they would¡¯ve arrived on time. You know that.¡± Erlan had a keen eye and I dropped enough hints. The people sent forward by the Forgers were well-armed and well-armored, but they were the undesirables of their people. The lower caste, so to speak, that died for their people, cleaned up the messes, and generally did all the unclean jobs. He knew that I knew that someway and somehow. He¡¯ll never figure out it¡¯s from unit descriptions from the wiki. ¡°Even with your personage present, they would not have come swiftly.¡±


    Because the rest of the people on the planet were even considered lower than the lower caste of the Forgers.


    ¡°And I¡¯m sure you know what I aim to do. I need people amongst the Forgers. You and I both know your people and mine aren¡¯t going to lock arms and form an alliance against the threats to come.¡± It was inherent in their societal and cultural structure. They were acting exactly like they were in the game. They subjugated other races and put them in work camps, while keeping themselves in their capital city. These guys built wonders more quickly than anyone else and advanced quickly through the tech tree, but their population growth, culture, and diplomacy are all garbage. They understood trade, but that¡¯s the extent of it. ¡°We¡¯ll win this coming battle not because of your people, but because of mine.¡±


    ¡°And, your people are a mix of all mortal races.¡± Erlan looked pointedly at my troops. They all wore similar uniforms. The best we could do en-masse right now without using up space in fabricators were vaguely civil-war era clothes. Dark blue and dull silver, just to make that much harder for the enemy to find where we are. It was just a large coat that could be fitted beneath armor, that kept people safe from the elements, over some standard trousers along with standardized kit. Rations, backpack, knife, and that sort of thing. Everything else was dependent on role. Anyway, Erlan saw the standardization as me treating everyone equally. I wasn¡¯t about to disabuse him of the notion, even if it was all just to get clothes on my soldiers for a decent price. ¡°You mean to say that my soldiers and I will be treated fairly amongst your people.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I mean. That¡¯s exactly my goal. There¡¯s been enough bloodshed over things like beliefs and how we look to one another.¡± This time, I was pulling things out of history books. I haven¡¯t personally interacted with the racism aspect in this world, besides going out of my way to deal with the Children of the Elm. These societies and prejudices and beliefs were a byproduct of hatred born of violence and war for who knows how long. I mean, the Conquerors were all enslaved just a few centuries ago. The Merchants still have slavery, even if they¡¯re calling it serfdom or indentured servitude now. Hell, the Wardens were probably adamant about sending everyone to Heaven because it¡¯ll get rid any division. ¡°I¡¯m making a world where everyone is judged by the merits of their actions, not by the shape or color of their bodies.¡±


    Erlan stared at me for a while, before speaking.


    ¡°Is that why you treated the Merchants as you did, then?¡±


    I didn¡¯t hesitate.


    ¡°Yes. What I offer is a contract. Treat others right, or at least have the intention to do so, and I¡¯ll do the same. I don¡¯t act out of virtue or idealism. It is a rule to be enforced in the society that I want.¡± As nice as I was making the words out to be, I was mostly stealing from tolerance vs intolerance arguments from back home. Toleration is a contract. You mind yourself, and I mind myself. If you don¡¯t, then you don¡¯t get to tell me to be nice and decent. The Merchants literally went out of their way to use a continent-wide famine to get rich. They can get fucked. ¡°The Merchants are exploitative parasites who see only capital and not people. The Forgers stand above them, even if they see others as lesser, they do not harm.¡±


    ¡°That is true.¡± Erlan bobbed his head up and down and stroked his beard. ¡°King of Wisdom, do you believe my people are incapable of change?¡±


    ¡°Your people are capable of change, of that I am sure, but not in our current times and not with what lies ahead. We will all be brought to the brink of madness, General. We will be cornered, we will be tested, and we will be found wanting. All we will be able to do in the future is mitigate loss, while finding a means to deliver a decisive blow upon the enemy.¡± The various victories of each Faction were built off the fact that none of us could take on the rest of the planet, unless we did something drastic with the control we¡¯d get over the Citadels. In the later stages of the tech trees, we¡¯re all going to get desperate, more willing to unleash terrible things, until finally we pull the trigger. We can change. Everyone can change. But change takes time, resources, effort, and peace. All of which will be in short supply or completely unavailable in the future. ¡°There will be no time to change your people or their ways. Those in charge now, will cast the decisions your people will uphold in the coming decades.¡±


    That silenced Erlan and he crossed his arms as he considered my words and stared ahead.


    In front of us were the rest of his caste. Fodder covered in armor and armed well enough to not shame their nation. One and all, they were deemed unfit for reproduction. In future societal picks, these people are sterilized chemically, rid of various senses that make their duties unpleasant, and drugged up. They become nothing more than golems of flesh covered in black armor that carry around heavy weapons and die while killing hundreds of enemies in turn¡­ and the guards of the holds that contain the workers of other races that the Forgers keep out of pity. If this Erlan continues to champion his people, no trace of the general will remain in the future. He¡¯ll be chemically castrated, have his sense of taste and olfactory senses removed, and become nothing more than a chemically-enhanced soldier commanded by his better.


    As the silence continued, as he gave no answer, I hoped that I¡¯d get him on my side and that he¡¯d work for me against his people.


    Or, at the very least, quit his society and come to mine along with all the others he could convince.


    Because, from what I¡¯m seeing of the Forgers, I couldn¡¯t tolerate them continuing at their current pace for the next couple of years.


    They needed to go, before they set this world on fire.

 V7: Chapter 3

    V7: Chapter 3


    ¡­


    The Forgers were the best heavy infantry that I could ask for.


    While the Conquerors were good at holding the line, they truly excelled at being highly-mobile, professional soldiers. Special forces that could each carry the firepower of an armored personnel carrier, making them perfect skirmishing forces or black ops. Nothing like bringing in a squad of six musclebound titans closer to ten feet than five with all of them carrying autocannons and ridiculous amounts of explosives. Currently, most of them were acting as light artillery and anti-air, until they were all crack shots that could put five rounds into a playing card no matter the circumstance.


    However, in terms of holding ground and putting people to a siege, the Forgers had them beat.


    If you give them a single turn to fortify, you¡¯re going to find trenches deployed all over the battlefield around their starting position. They¡¯ll have simple wood fortifications at the start, but as the game progresses it goes to wood all the way to concrete buildings. With their engineering units, and the Champions that reduce build time, they¡¯ll start building actual bases and fortifications while you¡¯re fighting them on the battlefield that give them bonuses like cover, artillery support, and make you need to bring in some expensive siege units in all the armies you¡¯re sending into their territory.


    They¡¯re combat engineers with tons of armor strapped on them who can also crack skulls.


    Their average infantry unit, currently, is covered in enough steel to make most guns smaller than the ones I give to Conquerors worthless. A bunch of my rifle companies against their basic infantry would be massacred. They can just stack some healers and some mages at the back of their basic infantry and they can roll over most enemies, though the upkeep costs will eat them alive. In the end, while they were strong basic infantry their initial cost and upkeep costs are high, until certain technologies come into to play that basically made them combat golems with no free will.


    But that¡¯s a future I¡¯m hoping to avoid.


    For now, focusing on the present, the Forgers filled the temporary piece in my current strategy.


    My rifle companies and mages were pretty much the core of my DPS. The rifles kept up steady damage on enemy units as the fight raged on, while the mages worked as artillery and slung around fireballs and the like after they finished dueling with the enemy mages trying to do the same thing. Most of my ground cavalry were not Conquerors, a role which they appreciated, as they were able to run free during the battles and devastate the flanks of the enemy.


    The real weak point of my armies were my pikes, because as good as they were, they weren¡¯t cut out for handling all the monsters we were going to face. The frontline infantry was going to be hit the hardest and need replacing every battle. In-game they usually count as ablative that does some damage while preventing ranged units from dying, and you could lose over eighty percent of them before having them retreat to retain their veterancy and upgrades. Eighty percent of an entire unit of men is at least eight hundred deaths, so three units at twenty percent means twenty-four hundred dead in a single fight.


    Those were numbers I couldn¡¯t afford.


    However, the Forgers had innate resistances against magic, against most of the poisons in the tech trees, and were tough as hell. In-game, if you had Forger frontline, the only recourse of the enemy is to flank and harass your forces and lure you into their territory to weaken them. After that it¡¯s gathering all the Mages and applying all the debuffs, while getting the fasted ranged infantry you¡¯ve got to spend an hour kiting the shit out of them.


    Otherwise, auto-resolve will just count the Forgers winning.


    So, if I replaced the pikemen I had with Forgers, they¡¯ll lose maybe ten percent every fight and most of them will be casualties with very few deaths.  Three hundred casualties with maybe ten percent of them dying was a lot more tolerable¡­ so, with that in mind, I did my best to recruit Erlan.


    Is it wrong to try and recruit an entire race, or as many of them as possible, just to act as my main infantry?


    Probably.


    But I had to still try and do my best, otherwise I¡¯ll need to put the Iterants on the front, and the moment news of that gets out¡­ it¡¯ll make things very complicated.


    I¡¯ve already got four Citadels, I¡¯m pumping out Guardians, and I¡¯ve got the largest economy and the most people.


    Honestly, it¡¯s a miracle the other factions still talk to me and work with me and haven¡¯t united to fight against me.


    If I show them that the Iterants are loyal to my nation, and that I¡¯ll be employing Iterants, as strong as Guardians and with the ability to change shape and infiltrate, to fight on the front outside of my territory?


    Yeah, I¡¯m not sure how things aren¡¯t in full-blown war between me and another united faction yet, but that¡¯ll probably break whatever balance is present entirely and send us tumbling off into full-scale war.


    Things are heading there, but I¡¯d rather kill one more of them off and take their stuff, before it starts.


    It never hurts to stack as many advantages as possible, after all.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    An army in the millions with their soldiery tireless Undead and the most feared monsters across the entire continent. It was an apocalyptic force, one that united friends and foes alike, behind the common cause of survival. Much like the famine that had occurred, this warranted a Council of Kings, and unified effort to defeat the Death Lord and its assembled forces.


    The Forgers were the frontline, and against them the hordes of the undead and their monstrous allies found themselves unable to find purchase. The stout frontline wielded heavy shields nearly the same size as each of them with one arm and with their spare arms they wielded hammers. Even grazing blows from the heavy implements wielded by the strong limbs broke bone and tore flesh. Lesser zombies broke apart into piles of flesh and bone to be crushed underfoot by their advance, and it only took a few dead monsters to convince the rest to flee from the front.


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    A front which was controlled by our own soldiery.


    In every battle the pikes that we had hemmed in the enemy towards the strong center. Marching in rhythm with their pikes held forward, they closed like jaws that encircled the enemy and kept them in the center. Rifles fired at the heart of the enemy¡¯s formation and their retreat was filled with flame or roaring magical projectile. The guns wielded by main force were smaller and lighter than the guns used by the Conquerors, but there were plenty of them and we had bullets to spare, and against the monsters and undead they punched through flesh and bone with ease.


    The fate of our enemy¡¯s main armies, the common foot soldier, was death by the felling of hammers, the thrusting of pikes, the raining of lead, and the merciless bombardment of artillery in their only path of retreat.


    Their cavalry and specialized forces were hunted by Conquerors aided by our aerial cavalry. As if the lethality of the vaunted warriors of the Conquerors was not enough, they were armed with light cannon forged within the Citadel. Oncoming goblins mounted on the backs of their tamed wolves were destroyed by volleys of high explosive shells, then charged by the Conquerors in melee. They hunted down the enemy¡¯s shamans and mages, freeing our own users of magic to attack instead of defend against their fellows. If they were hunted, if they were set upon by the enemy, the aerial cavalry came to their aid and devastated the enemy with explosives delivered in steep dives.


    We faced nearly half a dozen battles since we arrived in the Death Lord¡¯s territory, but the same strategy worked again and again with every army we faced.


    We marched, and they died.


    ¡°It may look simple, Rita, but there¡¯s more behind this moment than just what we see.¡± Morgan¡¯s voice made me turn my attention her way. We were atop a small hill looking over the battle playing out over the many, many miles. Bereft of her coat and wearing a top that kept her arms free and hugged her figure, it was easier to see that it wasn¡¯t talent alone that carried her. She couldn¡¯t compare to Ilych or Conquest, but that wasn¡¯t the point. She saw her body as a weapon, and that included being able to seduce and tantalize.  ¡°Everything here is the mouth of a great and massive beast born of industry, of diplomacy, and of our leader¡¯s mind. Decades in the making.¡±


    ¡°Decades?¡± I questioned, and Morgan smiled and pushed up her glasses. I had to wonder if she even needed those thick lenses. If she told me that she used them to keep herself blind, given their thickness and size being so strange, I would¡¯ve believed her. They seemed to constantly just fill with light and blur vision. Besides that, however, Morgan admired my ability to admit when I did not understand. In her own words, I did not subscribe to unseemly pride. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Morgan stretched her hands out towards the battlefield before us, the field where hundreds of lives were ending every minute, where the roar of guns drowned out all other noise.


    The wind swept her hair back and a smile split across her face, as if she was truly and completely content.


    When she lowered her arms after a moment, she turned to me with a small version of that smile.


    ¡°It is poetry in motion, Rita. Everything that our vaunted king does is for the sake of survival and the destruction of our enemies. From the farmer tilling soil and paying his taxes, to the general learning at our university, and all the way here into our king¡¯s hands¡­ everything is by his design.¡± Morgan spoke and I listened. A shiver went down my spine, as I grasped an inkling of what she was speaking about. She took note and her smile widened while her eyes narrowed in sharp glee. ¡°Ah, there it is. A glimmer of insight. I always knew you were smart.¡±


    ¡°Much of what our King does is for the people and for peace and prosperity.¡± I found myself protesting and trying to drive away Morgan¡¯s words, but she simply kept smiling at me. Soon enough, she stood in front of me, but I could barely meet her gaze. Her eyes seemed like twin abysses into which I could fall endlessly. Her presence alone was somehow suffocating. ¡°Even if it all indeed serves us for war, even if every ounce of prosperity and moment of peace given to us is to make us fight, they remain moments of peace and prosperity we¡¯d never seen before.¡±


    Morgan implied that everything our King has done is for war. That every moment of kindness and compassion he has given us, to his people, is to this singular end of conflict and destruction. Her assertion was that he did all of this not to protect what he gave us, but to ensure that he had the tools and the resources to wield against his foes.


    I refused that idea and raised my gaze from my feet to match Morgan¡¯s gaze.


    My hands curled into fists as I strengthened my resolve against Morgan¡¯s intellectual might.


    ¡°It is true that all he has composed for us makes us all more willing to fight and die for him, but there is no reason at all for it all to just be for war. What we see, how we feel, and the joys we experience¡­ they all have meaning themselves.¡± I understood what Morgan had implied. She saw what our King wanted her to see. Something like herself but on a massive scale. Morgan would be unsatisfied under anyone lesser than her, anyone unwilling to do what is needed to survive, thus our King crafted something for her to believe in. He did this for everyone. For every person he met, he had a different mask to speak to that person and sway them to his side. ¡°Even if it all meant to keep us fighting fervently for him, then I must attest that all the good has given to us remains good.¡±


    People are enjoying peace and prosperity.


    Children are being born with prospects and free of fear of raiders.


    Thousands migrate towards us with hope in their hearts and their dreams will be fulfilled.


    So, what if it all serves to wage war against the enemies that would take it away?


    That our leader has created it all to make sure that we are obedient and would fight for him against the monsters at the gate?


    We would¡¯ve fought for him regardless.


    Morgan crossed her arms at my words with her countenance stern and her true thoughts a mystery.


    Then, she spoke.


    ¡°I see. You¡¯re a zealot through and through. He¡¯s more your god than your king¡­ you can¡¯t even conceive of the thought of him being wrong.¡± Morgan spoke directly and bluntly. Cold and cool statements. There was a hint of disappointment in her voice, but I felt nothing at it. She sighed and pushed back her hair in slight frustration. ¡°And, here I¡¯d thought I¡¯d teach him a little lesson about loyalty, but he¡¯s already covered that angle, too.¡±


    It took me a moment to realize what she was implying.


    ¡°This was another test.¡±


    ¡°Less a test, more me trying to manipulate you, so that I could raise my stock with our lord by showing him some paths lead to poor outcomes. But he foresaw what could be done to turn you and protected you already. I can¡¯t even worm my way into your head.¡± Morgan admitted to her actions with ease. Content with knowing that she could not be replaced. It was a simple truth. With crossed arms, she turned to the battle beyond us and a faint smile formed on her face. ¡°I suppose that I¡¯ll have to do things the old-fashioned way and gain merit on the battlefield. He¡¯s cut off every shortcut on the way up.¡±


    Morgan, as always, was a driven and powerful being who knew exactly her place in the world and what she needed to do to get what she desired. Without a doubt, if Jack was not present, she¡¯d be ruling the Citadel in his stead and so many would be dead who would otherwise not be. Her nation will be one born of the corpses of millions and she would use everything at her disposal to fight against what came to kill her.


    ¡°You would make for a poor leader, Morgan.¡± I told her simply, and she nodded.


    ¡°Give me a break. Compared to Jack, everyone is¡­ which is why I¡¯m just going to go ahead and just be his finest, best general.¡± Morgan smiled. A small smile that reached her eyes. It was a sincere smile filled with happiness. ¡°Now, how about we go ahead and get some merits and achievements today, huh? We¡¯ve been lying around enough, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    She gestured for me to follow, despite admitting she had tried to use me to improve her own position.


    She knew that I would follow, because my king had need of her talents.


    It irked me a bit, but truth was that a person such as Morgan was exactly what our leader needed.


    People like her will help us save this world entire.

 V7: Chapter 4

    V7: Chapter 4


    ¡­


    Another day, another attempt at getting Erlan to betray his people.


    Thankfully, as expected, his people ran out of supplies and received nothing from back home, so I could swoop in and help.


    Thanks for being a bunch of bastards, Forgers, you¡¯re making me look good for being a decent human being.


    ¡°These supplies are exceptional.¡± Erlan stared at the ration kits handed out. I showcased it to him after asking him to check them for foods his people couldn¡¯t eat. We had a few different sets for our people. Children of the Elm rarely ate meat. The Conquerors needed larger kits. Scholars needed less. The Forgers ate a bit more than a regular human did, but far less than a Conqueror. ¡°What did you call this nutrient square?¡±


    ¡°Ration square.¡± I¡¯d gathered up a lot of scholars and cooks for it. I¡¯d remembered from my previous life that there was a superfood thing that used by native Americans for long journeys. All I knew was that it used rendered fat, dried meat, and berries to provide all the essentials when eaten with hardtack. Also, there was already plenty of preservation methods in use by the locals of the world, so we used their ideas as well. The result was a the ration square, which were sticky bars lightly sweetened with honey, filled with mixes of nuts and oats, and reinforced with dried whey and dried fruits like oranges. Protein, fiber, and sugar that could be eaten by all my people. Lots of people ground up their hardtack, cooked it like flapjacks, and crumbled their bars on it to make some hot food. Some made porridge. It could easily be eaten just by itself, though. ¡°Eat as many as you want. We¡¯ve got factories pumping those out. Any excess from the farms goes to make those.¡±


    ¡°I see. Thank you.¡± Erlan munched and crunched on the bar with a nod. Ration squares were about five hundred calories each. All the ingredients were grown on farms, rather than produced by Citadels, and all the machinery required were mills, threshers, crushers and ovens. The first three were mostly water or wind powered and already existed in the Academy. Lots of the small towns around the academy were agricultural in nature, so the expertise came along with the refugees. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if the Academy had something similar for their soldiers as rations. A secret weapon that allowed them to project power? Sounded like something they¡¯d have. ¡°You truly have enough to spare for all, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I have half the continent under my control. I can give your people a selection of regions that I need civilized and productive.¡± Erlan was direct. Silence meant he¡¯s done talking with you. A grunt ended whole lines of conversation. I learned to quickly to jump at any dialogue option the man offered. He crunched on the bars and listened as I spoke. ¡°There are prime mining areas where the Scholars used to live. A nice valley with some geothermal vents and hot springs, right next to the richest ore veins we¡¯ve found. The Scholars picked the land to rapidly industrialize.¡±


    To pop out clockwork mechs with Ancient materials as armor plating to act as pseudo-Guardians that they could use as disposable terror weapons, while they put together tanks and artillery. All the while, they¡¯ll hide behind their armies and produce biological, chemical, and nuclear weapons to wipe everyone else out. Yeah, knocking them out and putting their remains to the sword was the smart choice.


    All the ones unwilling to work and help me make those weapons for myself, at least.


    ¡°What will you provide as settlement support?¡± The fact that his own people didn¡¯t provide his soldiers with supplies, while I did must¡¯ve been a greater fuck up for the Forgers than I thought. Erlan might¡¯ve accepted his place in society, if they at least supported him and his like actual people that needed material support. However, that didn¡¯t happen, and now he and his people were eating from stocks I brought in. Yeah, with how transactional their society is, I¡¯m sensing there¡¯s been a severe breakdown in relations. ¡°We have no coin to offer you. Only labor.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that before and I¡¯m prepared for it.¡± Or, rather, my Merchant Champion was. Sarala was coming into his own and I¡¯ve maxed out his economy tree, while also provided him with talented people to train and use. The Lion-based Merchant turned the Children of the Elm¡¯s land into a place of commerce and made use of the Children of the Elm¡¯s ability to grow just about anything. Groves of fruits, fields of spices, and orchards with every conceivable thing produced materials to be sold fresh, juiced, jarred, candied, and more. Sugar flowed out of his lands after we managed to acquire seeds for sugar beets and sugar cane from the Citadel, and his honey farms were hard at work still producing another sweetener/preservative, too. ¡°Your people will be supported. Enough so that you can create a foundation. It¡¯ll be a debt, of course. Not a handout.¡±


    ¡°¡­You know my people very well.¡± If I offered them money for free, that would be pity. That wasn¡¯t something I learned from lore. It was just a fact of life of this world. Maybe, it was also the same back home. Free gifts are looked upon with hesitation and no small amount of suspicion. Too many people have been taught to look for hidden scams and malign intent. People want to give in exchange, even if it¡¯s something small. Not that this is small. I¡¯m buying a few thousand skilled Forgers with the desire to work hard and scream at their country that they¡¯re not just the dregs of society. I¡¯d happily shell out, if I get even a fraction of their tech tree at my disposal. ¡°And, I know little of yours. News of your nation is limited amongst my people. We know of your strength, but not how you live.¡±


    ¡°Well, Erlan, you¡¯re lucky. I happen to have had a fair hand in deciding how my people live. I¡¯ll share.¡±


    My foot was in the door, now it was time to make the sale.


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    Most of the work was done by the Forgers not supplying their own troops, but I¡¯m not about to complain.


    I always take whatever I can get.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    In two months, I saw more combat than I did the rest of my entire life.


    I wrenched my axe from the skull of an ogre and took in the scent of the battlefield. Past the spilled blood, the stinking viscera, and spilled contents of stomachs and bowels¡­ the scent of living foes were no longer present.


    ¡°The enemy camp is destroyed. Take a moment to gather yourselves.¡± My warriors heeded my words. Some looked for shade, others searched for prizes and loot, while Breaker came up to me and met my gaze with a nod. My second-in-command surveyed the results of the battle. Since he was by my side, I knew that it went well ¡°No injuries?¡±


    ¡°None, my chief¡ªma¡¯am.¡± Breaker grimaced as he corrected his words. He was unused to the term, but the new warriors were taught to use it, so he used the word of address to show them even he fell under the rules and standards of the army we fought in. ¡°This marks the fifteenth camp we¡¯ve cleared. We¡¯ll be rotating to the backline for at least a month. You can rest a bit now and let me handle getting everything in order.¡±


    ¡°¡­I appreciate that. Let it be done.¡± Breaker gave a low bow and I nodded in return. He left to address the soldiers, while I stood up. ¡°I¡¯ll be going for a walk. I¡¯ll call if I need aid.¡±


    I didn¡¯t wait for a reply and instead headed away from all the destruction.


    Father now ruled over the Conquerors and was in council with the King of Wisdom. He sat beside Sarala, who ruled over the lands of the Children of the Elm, and Riegert who took over the lands of the Scholars. The King of Wisdom ruled over the primary Citadel and I attended their meetings often.


    My father had told me that one day I will take his place.


    With his power gone, he will fade far faster than most Conquerors, with only a handful of decades ahead of him.


    Yet, I could not imagine doing more than what I have done now.


    War and battle better suited me.


    Even as I walked away, my mind was racing with ideas with what to do next.


    The King of Wisdom gave goals, but between the start and end of that goal, the officers on the field had full command. Those who commanded on instinct and those who planned ahead for every circumstance could both act as they wished. My people had all followed a single chieftain, who we all followed and returned to at the end of every day for more orders and more reports, but the efficacy of our armies relied on that chieftain¡­ and their ability to use the skills of those below them in their strategies and tactics.


    In the King of Wisdom¡¯s army, I found my true strength.


    I act on instinct and I know I that will never make for a good leader.


    The meetings my father held with the King of Wisdom and the others numbed my mind. I tried to listen. I tried to learn. I tried, but each time I barely recall what they spoke about. I knew the importance of their talks. Our people had needs, had concerns, had futures that needed to be protected. All such things were of great importance. However, once talks began of curriculums for schools, for limits on factory noises in the evening, and for the creation of intermediary warehouses in smaller towns¡­ the minutia faded into a fuzzy mass of memory barely within my ability to speak of.


    No.


    I am most suited for war.


    I found a vantage point, a tall tree with strong branches, and leapt upward. Within moments I reached the topmost branch capable of holding my weight, and I surveyed the vast army behind us.


    The King of Wisdom¡¯s force on the march was humbling. The front ranks were Forgers, strong and resolute, and marching in armor far too heavy even for a Conqueror. They were a mighty vanguard that broke charges by simply holding their ground, and turned all that they stopped into broken bones and flesh. However, accompanying them was something far more fearsome.


    A complete army that flew the banners of the King of Wisdom.


    Ten thousand professional soldiers supported by five thousand through logistics and support. All other armies in the realm did not have such a thing. We supported ourselves in the field with supplies with carried on our backs and by foraging from the surrounding lands. There were more behind his professional soldiery than those five thousand, as well. That five thousand did not account for those transporting goods to support his armies, they did not count the factories producing rations and supplies in towns, and whole private companies with contracts with the King of Wisdom to supply his soldiers with pieces of their kit. Every single one of those ten thousand soldiers could die or become casualties in this war, but in the next year they¡¯ll be replaced and their replacements will just be as well fed, and their new officers knowledgeable and trained against what ruined the last army.


    The King of Wisdom¡¯s army was just but the teeth of a beast that could afford to replace it time and time again.


    The true strength of the King of Wisdom was the mass of people that believed in him, that worked for him, and who would die for him along with all that they produced.


    The Death Lord¡¯s nation was on the other side.


    Monsters and tribal barbarians who were now being broken apart by the King of Wisdom¡¯s mere attention.


    A hundred groups of ten Conquerors armed with Ancient weapons deployed all over the front. Each one the finest, each one screened through dozens of requirements, and each one further trained to all have the foundational skills necessary to do their duty. Thereafter, once qualified, they received special instruction in their talented fields, then teammates and leaders that made up for their deficiencies. Then, after all that, provided with tons of supplies and munitions to call upon, dedicated transportation, and lax rules on how operate in the field.


    I represented our people, therefore I received the reports on their success and failures.


    Nothing but successes flowed before me.


    Fortresses destroyed overnight through clever use of explosives and long-range fire. Roaming patrols of heavy cavalry led into woods and ambushed then destroyed to the last. Caravans of supplies stolen away in the middle of the day. Tribes forced to flee as their warriors returned crazed in and incoherent. Search parties of warriors meant to destroy them led into traps and destroyed by a coordinated strike from the army at our back.


    I could feel their pride in their reports, in their eagerness to succeed once again, and I felt the same way.


    With just Breaker and eight others, I took control over the area assigned to me.


    Destroy these three fortifications, root out the enemy¡¯s supply caravans, and survey these areas.


    Those were my main objectives, and I received no further others, only the trust that I would achieve what was asked of me.


    And, now, I looked toward the land ahead of the army, which I prepared for their coming.


    Not one soul of the enemy remained, all their supplies were ready to be taken by our own people, and all the secrets I could find deciphered and extracted from their people.


    All by my own skill.


    All by my own power.


    All as I wished.


    A good day.


    And, in but a few days, I will do it again.

 V7: Chapter 5

    V7: Chapter 5


    ¡­


    The army advanced, we killed shit, and money was spent in eye-watering amounts.


    Running a military campaign balloons costs of running a nation exponentially.


    The average soldier in my army gets the equivalent of ten dollars in pay. A coin is minted out of steel and backed by law. I say it¡¯s the currency, so it¡¯s the currency, and people exchange goods and services with it and use the banking system with the money. I can go at length about finances and how I¡¯ve got a whole lot of smart people handling it, and I¡¯m carefully making sure nothing stupid happens, but we¡¯ll just go with the fact that the average soldier gets ten dollars a day fighting for me.


    Seems like it¡¯s too little for someone fighting daily, right?


    Wrong, it¡¯s too much.


    Atop that ten dollars a day, that soldier is provided with a uniform, weapons, supplies, and other equipment. Munitions need to be resupplied, spares broken out of storage, medical supplies used, and other services provided. I¡¯ve got a whole logistics train set up full of logistical support troops and specialists like medics, people whose sole duty is to evaluate soldiers and see if they¡¯re still fit for combat, and military police to keep everyone in line.  Those people get paid far less than those in combat roles, about half, but that¡¯s still around five thousand people.


    Without supplies and equipment and assets taken into account, that five thousand people paid five dollars a day and ten thousand paid ten dollars a day, which roughly equates to 125,000 dollars a day in wages alone. With one turn equating to four months, or 120 days, that¡¯s 15 million just in wages. I¡¯d say about a million and a quarter per month for food and resupply, so a cool 20 million in total for wages and support. Equipment, meanwhile, ranges from pikes and rifles and bags of supplies all the way to flying horses and steel armor, along with munitions ranging from rifle rounds to incendiary bomblets dropped from the air.  Every soldier costs on average five thousand to fully equip and arm with all our industrial and economic advantages in play, meaning that the army itself cost 50 million in order to field.


    That¡¯s one army on one front, when I have another holding the line on the other side, and I¡¯m funding expeditions into the lands beyond to find more Ancient Wonders to deploy. In short, war is fucking expensive, and if I was funding it myself, I¡¯d be broke within four months even though I¡¯ve literally got a Merchant Champion specifically built to making money exploiting an entire region.


    Thankfully, I succeeded in getting the Merchants to pay up the daily cost of running my armies fighting the Death Lord.


    Sure, I could¡¯ve reduced the pay of my soldiers by half instead¡­ but I have standards.


    They¡¯re out there fighting against monsters and undead with bolt action rifles and pikes with barely any air support.


    I¡¯m an evil bastard and I¡¯m responsible for and will be responsible for a lot of horrible things.


    But if there¡¯s something I¡¯ll never do¡­ it¡¯s not pay my own soldiers.


    That¡¯s a one way trip to being deposed, especially if you¡¯re on the field with them.


    ¡­


    Erlan¡¯s arms were crossed, his brow furrowed behind his vaguely-viking-like helmet, and hands were clenched in fists.


    I sighed.


    ¡°I told you that fighting a Conqueror in chess was a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°I had underestimated their ability. I will not do so again.¡± Chess, checkers, and other games were pretty common in this world, but with the advent of industrial manufacturing, I decided to take the market. Sarala took over after the initial boom, and now we were making a tidy profit selling off board games. Anyway, it was evening, and the army was settling in for the night, so he accompanied me on my rounds. My troops were used to me enough that my visits in the evening didn¡¯t stress them. Or, at least, I hoped that they weren¡¯t. ¡°They spoke of a ranking system and competitive games?¡±


    The best way to keep a game going was to give it a competitive scene and a community, so I¡¯d laid the groundwork out for chess clubs in towns, regional matches, and a national match. People had fun at their local spot, competed with other towns, and the best of the best fought against one another at the capital. I had venues for feasts and the like, which sufficed as places to hold tournaments. Didn¡¯t know how MMR worked, so rankings were mostly a count of wins, losses, and draws. It worked well enough to sell product and bring in tourism every now and again, so I considered it a win.


    ¡°Yeah, towns have their best, compete with each other, and the best of a region competes to be crowned champion in the capital once a year.¡± I explained it simply and Erlan nodded contemplatively. ¡°I don¡¯t have the time to play myself, but I know enough to watch. The Conquerors mostly play for fun. The actual competition is dominated by Children of the Elm¡­ they get into the whole thing.¡±


    They¡¯re fucking toxic, constantly complain about meta, always use cheap shit, and annoyingly actually play really well.


    Honestly, I was considering sending in some Iterants, so that they get turned into the heels of the game¡­ but I stayed my hand.


    It¡¯ll be better if some real champion rose up from the ranks and just smeared their faces in the mud all naturally.


    Then, I¡¯ll deploy the living computers to finish the job.


    What was I talking about again?


    Right.


    Turning Erlan and his troops into traitors.


    ¡°So¡­ interested in setting up a town and winning the finals to show everyone the what-for in chess? The annual Champion gets a significant prize.¡± The path is narrow. Every choice needs to be carefully weighed. A wrong word and statement put me back several steps. But the path is there. The Forgers made it for me, and I just needed to walk to carefully. ¡°I¡¯d say within a year or two you¡¯ll be a competitor. You¡¯ll have the time.¡±


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    Erlan glanced my way, probably to talk back against them latest reminder that life in my nation was way better, when the shrill whine of alarms resounded across the camps.


    I checked the nearest sundial and Erlan¡¯s gaze followed.


    ¡°¡­Your prediction was correct once again.¡±


    ¡°The Death Lord is a poor opponent.¡± Death Lords are little more than territory denial weapons. You plop them down enemy territory and they raise Undead and gather monsters to kill your opponents. They¡¯re a waste of resources, just there to produce XP fodder for your enemies, in a game where Champions and veterancy of armies are key to endgame. I¡¯d rather not give my enemies more combat experience, thank you. ¡°He attacks like clockwork. He sends forces at basic combinations in same numbers. Once again, this will be dealt with by the reaction force.¡±


    In order to distribute experience points properly, I had backline reserve forces cycle to the front, and also created hybrid units of veterans, frontliners and reserves. They all followed the same training and doctrine, and their officers were veterans and trained to keep the units cohesive.  The combined units made up quick reaction forces and went out to meet the enemy, so that the whole army wasn¡¯t made tired by just a thousand or so enemies. It¡¯s always best to conserve resources whenever possible, and there¡¯s few better ways to do that than just¡­ not using a whole army to tell a raiding force to fuck off.


    What¡¯s that?


    The enemy thinks they¡¯ve sent an army our way that we¡¯ll have to fully mobile for?


    Well, my QRF has air support, and I¡¯ve seeded the whole path forward with Conqueror Commando teams.


    So, they¡¯re wrong.


    I¡¯m not wasting the supplies of an entire army for a few units. Learned to not do that years ago the first run around. Detach the appropriate force, send them out, and absorb them back into the main force when they¡¯re done.  Save money, save supplies, and save time.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, we can follow this time.¡± My guards glared at me, but Erlan nodded. We made our way to a transport that I¡¯d requisitioned yesterday, knowing that this was going to happen again today. The driver and the mages on the carriage to be pulled through the air with flying horses and magic were wide eyed in my presence. They bowed, but I bid them to raise their heads. ¡°None of that today, gentlemen. We¡¯re on a tight schedule. Take us up, so that we can impress the general.¡±


    They moved quickly at my words, and my guards followed me and Erlan into the wagon, where we both sat across one another on the left side.


    We were off and in the air within a few minutes.


    Giving me and Erlan the bird¡¯s eye view I¡¯d longed for.


    Was it dangerous?


    Yeah, but I¡¯ve got air superiority, so a few minutes should be fine, and I wanted to impress the general.


    The risk was worth it.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    ¡°So, are things beyond the Ancient¡¯s defenses as bad as they say, Captain?¡± Gunther put down a mug of chilled beer. The barrels kept in the cellar of the inn were packed full of ice. One of the few good things living in the land of the Scholars was the perpetual access to chilled spirits and frozen fruits. It was far better than the jungle lands inhabited by the Masters of the Skies. ¡°You all came back whole and hale.¡±


    I took a long drink and out of instinct, I looked around.


    The tavern and inn of the town where I met Gunther was the outermost of the region. It existed solely to provide for the troops manning the new, fortified outposts dotting the mountain passes. No larger than five hundred people, it would be nothing more than a place for the Masters of the Skies to pluck meat from, should they come in force through the mountain pass.


    Gunther could be trusted to keep his mouth shut, though.


    ¡°We only returned as we did because we crawled for days at a time. We spent our months out there hidden, inching through their lands, and once we found what we needed to find we left.¡± We had secondary objectives. Gather information on population composition, find and observe a military action, and locate their nearest city. All things that Khanrow managed to do in his investigation of the Demons. We were only able to find the treasure that Jack wanted us to find. ¡°Those that live in those jungles are monsters who use mortals as food, Gunther. They take males for breeding, eat them after copulation, and use females to produce meals. They eat their prey alive.¡±


    Gunther shuddered at my words, his eyes widening in horror, while I grimaced at the memories.


    Men screaming as their limbs were torn off to make easier prey, their last moment producing monsters, before being killed.


    Women sewn up and strapped to pillars and force fed and cursed unspeakably, so that they can produce food.


    Children being speared and eaten raw by gleeful monsters.


    Monsters that hunted their own kind, who viewed kindness as weakness, and who long ago slaughtered away any humanity they had left.


    ¡°Everything in that green hell must burn. Everything. The mortals there would see it as a mercy.¡± I grunted and took a long, measured draught. The beer was strong and bitter and cold. The scent of hops and grains filled my nose. I remembered better times and they stymied the horrors that still lingered in the back of my mind. ¡°But the Ancients knew that. That¡¯s why they left behind what they did, and made sure that it could be of use.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know what was found in the land of the Demons. Can you really say things about what you found, Captain?¡± Gunther looked around with worry. I had to chuckle. Before our meeting I read of his movements since we last met. The Iterants were hard at work recording the goings on of every individual. Gunter may not live near the Citadel, but his work as a captain of one of the outposts made it necessary to watch him. I knew that he was honorable and true. ¡°Maybe, we should talk at the barracks, instead?¡±


    There were no merchants in the inn, or people from out of town, but he was correct.


    Word can travel fast, and just knowing we found something else from the Ancients was enough for those keeping an ear to the ground.


    ¡°You¡¯re right. Let¡¯s move this all to the barracks. This feels all too comfortable, anyway.¡± I grunted, paid, and left with Gunther with two large baskets filled with bottles and food. He carried two more baskets himself. The men deserved a bit of a treat, though from what I heard many of them were already treating themselves, but without causing any trouble. Good lads. ¡°Need some help with that, old man?¡±


    ¡°Bah. Not everyone can be a Champion, you old bastard.¡± I chuckled as Gunther grumbled. I was older than him, but the years were worse for those who have inherited less of the Ancient¡¯s power. Once, only death by violence or disease was possible amongst all our kind. The machines and techniques that enabled it were long forgotten. Now, only those gifted with the right traits or those blessed with strong magic had such natural longevity. I remembered meeting Gunther as a young man with a full head of hair, a strong sword arm, and a wrinkle-less face. At least, he still had his strength and talent with the sword. Our walk was short, and we reached the barracks quickly. ¡°So, are you sure you can share what you found with an outpost captain like me?¡±


    ¡°I need to. Unlike the first, this one will take months to move and you and your people will see it happen. It¡¯s a Seed Vault. Every crop the Ancients had? We now have.¡±


    ¡°I thought that the Citadels had them all already.¡±


    ¡°No, they had the staples and the basics. There¡¯s only so much that they can remember.¡± Despite all my nightmares and hate for the creatures in the green hell, the facility we found brought a smile to my face. An underground facility in the middle of a lake, the vault was maintained by old constructs, which recognized our heritage and led us to the chambers they tended. Inside the facility it had been as cold as winter, and the walls were lined with innumerable seedlings. Tens of thousands of crops, along with instructions on their germination and spread. ¡°This seed vault may very well be our salvation.¡±


    ¡°¡­How, captain, if you don¡¯t mind me asking? I don¡¯t see how some ancient crops can save us.¡±


    At that I felt a grim smile form on my face, as Jack¡¯s instructions came to mind should I find the vault.


    Ignore the seedlings, find the fragment.


    In the depths of the Seed Vault, I found the beating heart of a god, as the King of Wisdom foretold and soon it shall be roused from its slumber.


    When it is¡­ nature itself shall save us.

 V7: Chapter 6

    V7: Chapter 6


    ¡­


    Of course, I get another bottom of the barrel Ancient Wonder.


    The Seed Vault¡¯s one of the DLC wonders. The third expansion, which revamped the religion system to more than a sub-system for culture, and added lots of new content and units and events. The updates to most of the factions were free, and if the host had the DLC everyone had it, so that the multiplayer didn¡¯t get divided up.


    Mostly, though, the DLC False Witness and True Divinity was mostly for lore and enjoying some new long form events. Most of the events came with the new ability to make National Religions, unlock religious casus belli, and generally go on holy wars against your opponents that the followers of your faith would follow you into.


    Typical guy afternoon stuff, y¡¯know?


    Holy wars gave different bonuses depending on the religion, the traits you picked for it, and the Devotion rank your civilization has tied to the religion. I took in the Smiling Tyrant and gave them a district, so if I gave them official status as the national religion, I¡¯ll max out on them instantly.


    They have three ranks of Devotion, with each one conferring different benefits to units, and for the Smiling Tyrants it was Increased Movement Speed, Increased Morale, and finally Increased Evasion for all units.  Top tier upgrades, but there were better religions out there which counted as Ancient Wonders, and generally the strategy is to hold off on making a National Religion until you¡¯re sure they¡¯re no longer available. While regular sub-faction religions gave three ranks of Devotion, the Ancient Wonder religions went up to six and their bonuses were better. Even the worst of the bunch, like the Goddess of Nature that came with the Seed Vault, was better than any sub-faction religion.


    So, as bad as it was compared to the other two Ancient Wonder religions, it was better than going with the Smiling Tyrants.


    Hm?


    What¡¯s that?


    Oh, the Goddess of Nature is hot as hell. Literal mother-goddess of the Children of the Elm, perfected by the Ancients, who wears only leaves as clothing which hide nothing. By the third expansion, the devs were basically throwing in their fetishes, and all three Ancient Wonder religions were basically one fetish or another. Goth NEET death goddess, tomboy tanned war goddess, and basically hentai elf #3313432 nature goddess.


    She¡¯s hot.


    Ridiculously hot.


    However, she¡¯s also sub-optimal.


    Basically, the worst of the three and barely better than a sub-faction religion.


    Then again, if lore triumphs over gameplay again, then things might turn out better.


    Well, it¡¯s not like I can restart, anyway.


    ¡­


    ¡°Ayah, what do you know about what Riegert found?¡±


    With our pace, it was important for the army to stop, rotate troops out, and resupply. You¡¯d think that the enemy would take the opportunity to hit us hard, but you¡¯d be assuming that they had the initiative. Any bases they had were smashed, any group larger than the commandoes can take gets air-striked, and anything larger than that gets hacked apart by a QRF detachment from the main army with the commandoes and the air force supporting.


    I was hitting the Death Lord¡¯s forces with the closest equivalent to combined arms, while the Death Lord was still suffering form the effects of the majority of its mercenaries turning traitor, ruining a lot of shit, and turning tail to run.


    In other words, we could afford to slow down, rearm, resupply, and rotate troops back, because anything past the Death Lord¡¯s personal attack range was basically free game.


    ¡°Unfortunately, very little. Many of the vaults and secret facilities outside this continent were constructed after I was entombed.¡± That tracked with the Ancient Administrator lore. Ayah was made to help people get back on their feet. Before the Ancients died out, they finished sucker punching their enemies, destroyed their power bases, genetically crippled them, and set up numerous contingencies after they realized they couldn¡¯t finish the job. The ¡®Divine Constructs¡¯ in the expansion packs were their attempts to make gods that could do that. ¡°All I know is that there was some research regarding the creation of ancillary terminals that can manipulate matter and energy without interfacing with the systems built by the Ancients.¡±


    In other words, the Divine Constructs were miniaturized versions of the massive, interdimensional machines that manipulated matter and energy in this setting, which facilitated magic. Those machines were free access to anyone who knew the words and methods and ¡®scripts¡¯ for the machines to execute, but the Divine Constructs were different. They had their own will and tremendous amounts of power, but required ¡®belief/users¡¯ to come into full operative capacity. That full capacity was specialized, so that they could achieve great feats even with much smaller frames than the god-machines that lingered in the extra-dimensional space created by the Ancients.


    Really, can you call something a god, if it¡¯s made by a bunch of people?


    The Ancients are honestly more bullshit.


    But I¡¯m letting my mind wander.


    ¡°Search for any information you can find on that matter, then. The creature that we¡¯ve found must be harnessed for our own ends.¡± The Nature Goddess was geared towards making Wide builds viable. In most games, you want to build tall. Less ground to defend, more efficient generation of resources, and overlapping defenses. I¡¯m pretty much committed to a Wide Build with all the Citadels that I had. In the near future, I¡¯m going to be producing more than I can support, especially with the population not growing as fast and tax income not rising with it. My economy issues might be alleviated with the Nature Goddess, until I can get the corporations I need to exist up and running. Or, until I put the Merchants to the sword and take all their wealth and talent. That works too. Maybe, I¡¯ll do both. ¡°However, that¡¯ll best be for later. I want an update on our shaping operations.¡±


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    Ayah nodded and relayed the information that I desired.


    Four months have passed since our advance against the Death Lord started, and I wanted to know if we were on schedule.


    ¡°The Death Lord is now on the defensive and no longer receiving a constant stream of reinforcements and migrants.¡± That was thanks to routing the tunnels of the Academy¡¯s remnants and pumping it full of poison gas. After that the various creatures trying to reach the Death Lord were put to the sword trying to get to their supposed savior. Some got through. The vast majority died. ¡°Our mercenary forces have been routed and forced to retreat, but they have managed to achieve one of their primary objectives. They managed to poison the main grain supply and killed off the¡­ cattle¡­ that the Death Lord kept.¡±


    ¡°Give the survivors their full price. I know that they¡¯re only meant to get it after doing all we asked, but they¡¯ve managed the most important part.¡± I wanted the Death Lord¡¯s industry crippled, a small rebellion within the creature¡¯s borders, and for the budding nation to be starving. I¡¯ll take Death Lord not having ¡®cattle¡¯ anymore. I hope those poor bastards that had that life forced on them had a better next life. Somewhere better than this planet, that¡¯s for sure. ¡°Did their leader survive?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, the leader of the mercenaries did not survive. The Scholar of the Lost was last reported holding back a spell cast by the Death Lord. We can assume that he has been turned into a powerful Undead creature.¡±


    ¡°Did they manage to kill one of the enemy leaders?¡±


    ¡°The leader of the Harpies perished along with most of her inner council and tribal chiefs.¡±


    ¡°Then, find his nearest next of kin and give them what we¡¯ve promised. He¡¯s done his part.¡± One possible Champion gone and out, but I hadn¡¯t invested in him, and he did his job well. Ideally, his next of kin was going to be just as talented and capable, or at least capable of being a Champion. ¡°One leader and faction in disarray, food supplies limited, and with us tightening the noose¡­ it¡¯s already started, hasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Ayah bowed its head in acknowledgement of my statement.


    ¡°It is as you predicted, my lord. They have begun to consume each other.¡± I let some pass from outside, so that they could get a taste. The outside migrants were outsiders and weak and injured. Easy prey. All my operations had villages burned and soldiers sent scrambling back to their nation. That increased the amount of food needed by the Death Lord¡¯s people.  Then, I had their food supply burned and their ¡®herds¡¯ killed off, while the mercenaries managed to kill one of their two targets along with her lieutenants. Everything was to make the first, beneficial event of the tutorial crises possible: the Cannibalistic Frenzy, where the creatures turn upon each other for food to live.  Only possible when you manage to contain the Death Lord, get the right espionage actions done, and kill one of the Champions.  ¡°Should we continue to put them to siege and starve them?¡±


    There it was.


    The event question pop-up that I wanted to hear, because I knew the right answer.


    ¡°No. Call upon the alchemists who developed the poison. We need to make something worse.¡±


    Nothing like a plague to make starvation that much more horrible.


    What?


    Unfair?


    Yeah, it is.


    I¡¯m not walking my army in there to fight nearly a million monsters, unless those monsters are at half health and half mana and with shit equipment.


    Fair is for sports and education and jobs.


    Not war.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    ¡°What am I looking at, Mallory?¡± My knightess was knelt beside the corpse of a large specimen of the Beast tribe. The wolf-blooded individual was a ferocious creature. Well-known for sheer strength, speed, and quick reflexes, they stood amongst the top of those with beast blood running in their veins. They bred quickly and worked well with one another, making them ferocious frontline infantry.  The one I looked at, however, was broken. ¡°What became of this mortal?¡±


    Much of the creature¡¯s fur had fallen off. Though it retained its height, it was emancipated and looked more like a creature of fur and bone than a warrior. Both were familiar sights to us. The Death Lord¡¯s territory was in a stranglehold. Those that remained loyal to the Death Lord were near-starving. A constant stream of those abandoning the fledgling nation, waving flags of truce, told us of a whole region filled with people, with fields filled with half-grown crops guarded stringently, and where many were being driven to cannibalism of others.


    Some of those who we received would¡¯ve perished, if not for the King of Wisdom¡¯s instructions on how to ¡°re-feed¡± them with a light broth and the smallest pieces of bread, until their stomachs began to function once more.


    Though he forced this hunger upon the enemy nation, those who surrendered were treated with dignity and given aid.


    However, what we found now was not mere starvation.


    Blood coated the nose and muzzle of the creature. The dulled eyes of man were a gleaming yellow. When we fought against him, he had coughed up blood, and his speed and strength were greatly weakened, and when his people called for retreat, he acted as though he hadn¡¯t heard the call.


    Mallory had some training as a medic for mortals who were not Undead, so she studied him for a time.


    ¡°¡­I believe that this man was sick. Incredibly so. I am unfamiliar with these symptoms. It¡¯s almost like a combination of sicknesses. A strong fever, buildup of fluids, and the failure of a liver.¡± Mallory spoke for a few moments before taking a sudden breath. I came to the same realization. ¡°My lady¡ª


    ¡°Stop. Say not another word. Thank you for your efforts. Forget what you have seen here.¡±


    Mallory got up and stiffly nodded, before leaving my presence.


    A moment passed before Catherine made herself visible.


    ¡°The King of Wisdom has employed another horror against the Death Lord¡¯s people. Starvation and a plague, both, whilst under siege. We may be able to use this against him.¡±  I was tempted to call it foolish, but my heart ached as a realized that I did not deem it evil. My thoughts lay only with the possibility of this weapon spreading across the land¡­ but no signs of it were amongst the refugees that we received. Refugees that were eating food provided by the King of Wisdom. I closed my eyes for a moment and let loose a shuddering breath. He already saw that far ahead. ¡°My lady?¡±


    ¡°Whatever it does, it does not harm those who surrendered through one way or another. Not only that, but there are no signs of sickness amongst our armies. Whatever he has deployed against our foes is a weapon that is firmly in his control.¡± Catherine frowned and nodded at my words. ¡°If we unveil this, then it should be out of concern only. Not as a condemnation or insult. We will be unsupported if we condemn this method of hastening the end of the war.¡±


    ¡°¡­I see, but a few of the conservative families will find this appalling. It goes against our ancient duties.¡± The Ancients long ago decreed the use of plague and illness as weapons by the Undead was an unforgivable offense. After all, we could wade into plague-stricken towns with little harm. Our people could deploy it fearlessly and give ourselves a decisive edge. I looked at Catherine for a long moment, and soon enough my teacher understood. ¡°Ah. I see. It is our duty and not his.¡±


    The King of Wisdom was not beholden to such ancient statutes.


    Still¡­


    ¡°We will raise our concerns, still. This is a powerful weapon and one that should not be wielded lightly. It can bring too much harm.¡± I already saw what was to come after this battle. Plagues and poxes will be unleashed upon the enemies bearing down upon us. Unleashed upon their cities by hair, sicknesses will reign down upon them, and they will die. For every death, our armies will face one less foe. ¡°We¡¯ll draft a response carefully. Weapons such as these will be needed in the coming decades.¡±


    Catherine bowed, and I knew what I was doing was correct, and that I could convince the conservative houses that the King of Wisdom was not of our people.


    Still, a bitter taste clung to my tongue.


    How far are you willing to go for victory, oh, King of Wisdom?

 V7: Chapter 7

    V7: Chapter 7


    ¡­


    Damn.


    The plague¡¯s not doing as well as I hoped.


    Probably because of all the safety measures, but without the safety measures it could backfire, so those were a must.


    ¡°We¡¯ll start marching on the Death Lord¡¯s core by next week.¡± Development of the plague had been simple enough. I had people studying disease for a long time. Create substrates with collagen and nutrient broth, observe and isolate, and study diseases in mice in controlled environments. Germs and other micro-organisms were well-known thanks to magic. However, that¡¯s the issue. There are many diseases that can be cured using magic, therefore the medley of diseases I unleashed were being taken out by mages and the monster-equivalents of healers. ¡°We need to hit them before they manage to purge the sickness completely.¡±


    The medley was intended to debilitate and spread, rather than kill. The most recent flu, a particularly nasty strain that hit the lungs hard and gave harsh migraines, as well as a lot of infected mice that spread a liver-killing disease. In the cover of darkness, I had agents transport the mice throughout the starving populace. In most cases, a lot of water, some basic antibacterials and vitamins laced into food, and both diseases became a non-issue. That was the safeguard. My soldiers were already eating rations that were enriched, and had basic antibiotics from the Citadels lacing the stuff. Basic cure spells were also a mandatory requirement for anyone with an inkling of magical ability, along with generating water and making fire, since those were all important to survival.


    I¡¯ll need to look into developing vaccination in the near future, but for now antibiotics, food, and basic magic would have to suffice.


    The enemy didn¡¯t have the first two, but they had the last, so my ploy was going to be active for only a short period of time.


    So, we needed to move fast and hit hard.


    But there was a complication.


    Erlan and his troops weren¡¯t a fan of the tactic.


    Primarily because they were worried it would harm their chances at producing good offspring.


    ¡°I understand, King of Wisdom, but we need assurances. My people are lowborn, but wading into plagues is something that we have the right to refuse.¡±


    ¡°And, I¡¯m telling you that the food you¡¯ve been given has the preventatives and cure laced throughout it. I¡¯ve eaten it and you¡¯ve eaten it. We¡¯ve all eaten it. That¡¯s why I¡¯m confident in walking there myself.¡± Erlan nodded in understanding, but his arms stayed crossed and his back straight. That meant that he was listening just out of respect. I just sighed. Curse the consequences of my own actions. Oh, and the fact that Dwarves in this setting are dangerously susceptible to plagues. When your bloodlines are in the low double digits, your whole race tends to be always at a high risk for pandemics. ¡°I understand your concerns, but I plead with you to understand that you and your people have consumed remedies used by the Ancients themselves to combat disease.¡±


    ¡°I will have to speak with my lieutenants. I will return with information by sunrise.¡±


    I sighed as the Dwarf went off to do as he said.


    It¡¯s up in the air whether we¡¯ll have heavy infantry in our upcoming advance, which meant our pikes will be seeing heavy casualties soon.


    Not ideal.


    I should¡¯ve consulted the matter with Erlan first, to ensure that his people would fight.


    Lesson learned.


    No time to grumble or complain.


    It¡¯s time for action.


    I turned over my shoulder and met Ayah¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°How far away is the hammer and is its armor up to task?¡±


    ¡°It will arrive on time tomorrow on the Western front, and its front has been heavily armored and plated with many layers of plates designed to resist magic. Familiars sent it equipped with the plates managed to survive a few hits.¡± We were bringing in the flying fortress/airbase on the western front. I was on the east with the Forgers, while the Wardens took the south and the Guardians the north. We had the Death Lord¡¯s main region cut down to the point where we practically had its core region encircled¡­ the bad part was that its entire core region was under its protection. Its anti-air capability was nothing to sneeze at. We¡¯d tested it with a lot of Familiars and gave a lot of Mages near-death experiences. Near-pin-point accuracy, with the ability to smash through the armor most flying cavalry had on, the Death Lord was a terror that could hit five targets in an instant every thirty or so seconds. 10 every minute. It¡¯ll take it just about an hour to kill all my combat-capable fliers, if I sent them in. Not ideal, so I was sending in my experimental project just to soak up hits and attract attention. ¡°We are confident that it will be able to survive for low-flying elites to saturate the enemy forces with firebombs. Once the bombing run is completed, it can be retreated and re-armored.¡±


    It was a massive gamble of a lot of national treasure, but if it went down we can salvage most of it. Having it go down was a better option than wading into enemy territory with entrenched defenses without air-support.


    At this point of the tutorial crises, casualties are practically inevitable, and I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll lose thousands of soldiers.


    But I needed to keep that number down.


    I need them for later.


    ¡°Send the message, then. By my decree, our nation¡¯s latest achievement shall be bathed in the fires of war.¡± I made sure to own up to my mistake and pin my name on this project properly. I had the influence to weather the public outcry, especially if I win. Ayah wrote the message quickly to hand off to the messenger, while I took my crest. A candle and some wax to imprint my seal on later, and the message was off.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Hopefully, that massive hunk of flying armor can tank all that magic while we conduct some air strikes.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    A firestorm raged before us, stretching for miles and miles, from where we stood to the horizon. Winds roared, and the flames were drawn upward like waves seeking to crest stone cliff faces. They rose and leapt for the skies, like hunting dogs bounding after prey hidden in branches.


    The armies and lands of the Death Lord burned, while we killed those who ran from the flames into our lines. The gleaming heads of pikes created walls of steel against all our foes. Like porcupines, the front bristled with layers and layers of pikes that monsters and undead both found difficult to break. Small arrows and stones struck our troops, but the pelting was disorganized and their weapons were unable to find purchase against our forces, and behind those pikes were lines and lines of rifles.


    Flames at their back.


    Steel at the front.


    And, at their flanks, were Conquerors massed for the first time in months in proper formations.


    Burned to death.


    Shot or stabbed.


    And, finally, run down and destroyed by overwhelming power.


    Such was the way of war conducted by our majesty, much to Morgan¡¯s praise.


    ¡°Ah, the stratagem never fails to amaze. Just a few thousand soldiers in gambesons, helmets, and cuirasses armed with rifles and spears, yet the world entire is falling at his feet.¡± Morgan observed with a smile. She sat atop a great ogre. At first glance it seemed whole and hale, simply hunkered down ready to charge wildly. With my trained gaze, though, I found the hilt of a sword embedded in its spine at the back of its neck. A single piercing strike at a singular point at the perfect moment. Thus the creature had died. ¡°What do you think, Chieftain? Any thoughts on how your people are dying?¡±


    The Chief of the wolf-blooded knelt before her, as she sat on her makeshift throne. He was chained down and attached to great blocks of stone. The bindings were fit for a Champion of his caliber. He had tried to lead his army against the King of Wisdom¡¯s, but we did as we were instructed and struck him together as four Champions the moment he arrived on the field. Myself, Ilych, Morgan, and Conquest brought him low and captured him alive as we were told to do, if possible.


    Not to try and convert him to our cause, but to learn of our foe to which he swore his allegiance.


    Since we took him, since we called all his allies and companies that went to battle with him, Morgan began to break him.


    ¡°Have you given it a thought that you can save them¡­ by just telling us what we want to know?¡± There was a smile on her face. She relished the moment. She relished that all who watched knew she enjoyed this. Most of all, however, she relished lording over a defeated Champion and the leader of a whole people. ¡°Forget about your petty beliefs and traditions. You can seek forgiveness later. They¡¯ll appreciate it more if you say what needs to be said for them all to live. Hell, I¡¯m sure that if you slit your throat after this, they¡¯ll call you a hero for the rest of their history.¡±


    His people were disorganized and helpless. Morgan chose the hilltop we were upon to show this to him. When he was taken, when we struck down his lieutenants, and brought him here, the battle had been won. However, our lord intended to win the war against the beast tribes under the Death Lord here and now.


    So, the disorganized army of this man¡¯s people was set to be slaughtered.


    The hammer of the King of Wisdom was bearing down upon them and forcing them into an inferno. They were kept corralled by the Conquerors on the flanks of the main force, their heavy guns and explosives smashing any desperate attempt to retreat through the sides. The army of the tribals was to die today.


    Their only method of retreat was complete surrender.


    The head of the beast tribes under the Death Lord¡¯s banner grunted and after a moment spoke.


    ¡°Kill me.¡± Two words. Two words that should be honored. This man chose to die instead of give up and surrender. A true leader that led his people into war with him at the front. In all myths and legends, this chieftain would be lauded.


    Morgan just gave a few, deep chuckles out of genuine amusement¡­ and threw a knife into the small of the chieftain¡¯s back.


    In an instant, his control over the lower half of his body was gone and he voided himself where he was chained.


    ¡°Do you know how much you¡¯re costing my nation at this moment with this fight?¡± Morgan¡¯s voice took on a cold, clinical tone. She dropped off the carcass of the monster she¡¯d sat upon and walked to the now-cripped beast chieftain. Though she wore boots and strode upon muddy ground, every step she made seemed to make the world quake. She is the only person who I could compare to our King. ¡°Every second of this battle, at least one of our soldiers dies. Every second of this battle will be hours spent by healers treating wounded. Every moment of this farcical attempt at honor, at staying beside a corpse with barely a thought in its skull, is costing the nation I believe in immense amounts of time, of money, and most importantly: people.¡±


    She knelt before the crippled leader and took another knife from the depths of her coat, and she lifted his face to face her with the point of the knight digging into the bone of his chin.


    ¡°Your people are dying there too. They could have been useful. Put to work, paid taxes, and made soldiers in the future. But they won¡¯t. Because of your stupidity. Because of your foolishness. Because you think being honorable is right.¡± Morgan growled, and her mask slipped for a moment. There has always been a deep anger in her when she spoke of other nations besides our own. I¡¯m sure she meant to show it to me, each time. With her current words, it became clear. She loathed the pettiness that kept us all from working together to face the rest of the world. ¡°Honestly, I feel like just killing you and letting that happen¡­ but I aspire to be the very, very best at my duties.¡±


    With a smile, Morgan drew back her knife, letting the chieftain¡¯s head fall¡­ and allow her to plunge her knife into the base of his skull.


    The one there and the one in the base of his spine came alive with magic and chains came off, as the Champion and chieftain lost all control of its body.


    Morgan¡¯s ability to rip through minds has improved to the extent the body was but a plaything to her now.


    The poor creature tried to speak, sputtering, and speaking with frightened eyes, as his body moved against his will.


    I made sure to watch, to find some sort of weakness in the technique, should Morgan ever become our foe.


    ¡°If you will not serve willingly, then you shall serve by my will alone.¡± Morgan stated simply and walked beside the lumbering beast Champion. The range of the technique required her to be in proximity to the creature. Both knives had threads connecting to her hands. I could feel her power draining quickly. If not for her vast reserves, this technique would be impossible. However, in time, I was sure she¡¯d have artifacts and equipment made that would make this that much easier. How long before the knives are no more than little needles? How long until the threads are unneeded? How long until she sits upon a throne, upon a ritual structure the size of a whole district, and takes control of tens of thousands? Morgan¡¯s potential is frightening indeed. If she ever sought to usurp our King, I would need to sacrifice everything kill her¡­ and she knew that. ¡°Roar, chieftain. Roar for your people to surrender and save their lives. After it is done, I¡¯ll show you mercy. I¡¯ll have you pierce your own heart and tell them all that you ended your life out of shame after failing as a king. Don¡¯t worry. They¡¯ll remember you forever.¡±


    With those words, Morgan took control of the last general of the Death Lord and had him unleash a roar amplified by magic to all his troops.


    A roar that had them throw down their weapons and surrender, which was received.


    After that, Morgan fulfilled her promise to the Champion.

 V7: Chapter 8

    V7: Chapter 8


    ¡­


    They never tell you how hard it is to clean up after a battle, especially when the armies range in the tens of thousands. Yeah, yeah. Shit, piss, vomit, and all that happens. However, at some point, taking care of the battlefield becomes an operational issue as well, since our foes have a Death Lord at their disposal and have plenty of lesser magic users who can make use of dead bodies.


    If we don¡¯t take care of the dead, if we just let them fester to be eaten by crows, then the likelihood of them returning more powerful than they were in life was a distinct possibility. I wasn¡¯t well versed in Necromancy, but I did plenty of reading before the Death Lord popped up and spoke to a few Necromancers regarding how to deal with an army of living and Undead.


    Their main recommendation was battlefield burials, at the very least mass burning and never mass graves, because the latter would just be a pile of resources for any enterprising necromancer to make use of. Defending the massive mounds of bodies would be a pain, even with my trust in my troops to do it, so I went with the burning route.


    And, burning thousands of bodies was a challenge itself, since my troops had to process bodies, grab valuables, and put everything together.


    I really needed to have a dedicated support company for battlefield sanitation in the future, but for now this will have to do.


    The funerals took up a whole city block by my estimation. Bodies were stacked between spaced out logs. Tinder and some coal were placed beneath and throughout the whole structure, and we packed them in tight, then raised earth walls around each pyre to create a furnace effect. Wind flowed in through inlets at the base, the bodies and logs were lowered in, and the draft fed the flames while everything was kept nice and hot within. Of course, we gave the bodies of those identified over to their families to deal with, but for the most part those who died in battle were lowered in bulk into furnaces.


    Some people say victory looks like parades, but to me it was a field of primitive furnaces billowing black smoke into the sky as corpses were turned to ash.


    The sad part was that it was better than what I witnessed in my childhood, where the dead after battles were left to rot after their belongings were taken away. The moment you died, the only thing that mattered was the steel on your person, and after that you¡¯re forgotten by both friend and foe. Just a cadaver to be feasted upon or to rot into the soil. As terrible as it was to basically shovel fuel and corpses into makeshift furnaces to deny them as Undead warriors for the enemy, this was somehow better.


    And, I hated it very much.


    ¡­


    ¡°Get these prisoners fed and watered and moved to the backlines. Our backlines.¡±


    ¡°As you command, King of Wisdom.¡±


    I got a quick salute, while Erlan stared at the survivors of the battle.


    ¡°Sorry, but they surrendered thanks to my Champions. Your people won¡¯t be taking them.¡± As far as I concerned, after someone surrenders, they get incarcerated for the rest of the conflict in humane conditions. I was planning on making work camps in former Scholar territory. Farming was difficult up there, and it had the lowest population of all my regions. They needed the extra labor, whether that was to tend to crops or to help with the mining effort. Once the war was over, I¡¯d happily repatriate them, but with their homes gone¡­ it was likely they were going to stay wherever I put them. ¡°I¡¯ll be needing methods to recoup the losses my people took in battle.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± Erlan was quick to nod. His people hadn¡¯t fought in fears of the disease. That led to a lot of issues. For every ten pikemen I had, about three were wounded and at least one died. Across three to four thousand people, that was a lot of injured that needed to get medical treatment and a lot of dead that I couldn¡¯t replace. The fact that we had just under six thousand prisoners was a silver lining. We spent loads of munitions not just for our rifles, but also for the guns used by my commando teams. The latter we could produce from Citadels and get shipped over, but until then they weren¡¯t going to function as effectively. The former was going to heavy and we produced that on our own, meaning it was going to cost us in the long run. ¡°My apologies for not managing to get my people to fight in this battle.¡±


    ¡°As long as they¡¯re willing to fight in the battles to come, it¡¯ll be fine.¡± It was barely within tolerable ranges, in fact. Fine was overselling it. If the Dwarves had been at the front, nearly a thousand of my troops would still be capable of fighting. Even though we had reserves and we were pulling people to replenish the pike divisions, I practically lost a whole unit at decent veterancy due to the Dwarves not being at the front. The damage may have been distributed, but overall, it was a thousand casualties that wouldn¡¯t otherwise have ahead. I could only hope that half those casualties were returning as actual soldiers in the next campaign. ¡°The battles ahead will be against the Death Lord and its undead armies. They will be untainted by my method, practically at full strength, despite having their food poisoned and disease spread amongst their people.¡±


    ¡°Against my warriors, I swear the Undead will break without question. The deaths of your warriors here will be remembered. They died for us.¡±


    ¡°They died for me, Erlan, for the nation under my rule and their families and their children. Do not overstep yourself.¡± I corrected him. I did my best to contain my frustration. At the very least, he bowed his head with a nod at my words. That cooled me off a bit. ¡°They did not die for the Forgers. Or your people.¡±


    ¡°It is as you say.¡± Erlan admitted and stroked his beard. I wondered faintly if I overstepped myself and undid a few weeks of careful diplomacy. Then again, would I be respected as a leader, if I just ignored the fact my soldiers died because these guys were too afraid to fight because their foes were diseased? After I went through every measure I could to keep them safe? When not even one of my own forces suffered any illness this whole trip thanks to my preparations? Absolutely not. I had every right to be angry. ¡°I cannot speak for all my people, but I will not forget this debt we owe to you. Please, excuse me, King of Wisdom.¡±


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    He left, trudging away, and deep in thought.


    I felt a gaze on me.


    No footsteps.


    ¡°Morgan, I know you¡¯re there.¡±


    ¡°Oh? I thought I concealed myself perfectly. I¡¯ve been learning a lot fighting with the girls.¡± Morgan had her usual, big smile. She sauntered over with all her usual jauntiness in my presence. Ever since that time she relaxed and slept over in my tent, while I worked behind my desk, she¡¯s been like this around me. Playful and coy and generally just happy. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s got plenty of plans. ¡°Are you going to do something about Erlan? Perhaps, it¡¯s time to offer the steel gauntlet instead of the velvet glove?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll need to wait until the final battle. I¡¯ll have him killed and shatter his forces then, and take the survivors in with their gratitude after.¡± Morgan, naturally, saw through my intentions with the Forger forces under Erlan¡¯s command. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to take them all. Even if only one in a hundred of these people are skilled crafters, that¡¯d be an immense prize. The less we rely on the Ancients the better.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Even though we¡¯ve found a godling fit for you to wed?¡± Morgan drawled and stretched. She leaned against the side of my horse. He knew better than to try anything in her presence and went completely still. This was a hyper lethal superhuman with the ability to subvert entire nations as needed. An entity capable of taking over the whole planet with everyone, even the crises, opposing her. I¡¯d go as still as my horse, if I could. ¡°I¡¯d thought you¡¯d be more amicable towards the Ancients after leaving a worthy creature behind for you to leash up nice and neatly at the foot of your throne.¡±


    ¡°The Ancients were too kind and too free. Their creations have only their own morality to truly keep them constrained.¡± I didn¡¯t bother lying to her. She¡¯d probably figure it out. The best I could do was omit information, while burying her in information. That way, I could just use the ¡®should¡¯ve mentioned that¡¯ excuse. ¡°The Iterants and Ayah both are driven solely by guilt and vengeance against those who wronged them¡­ if this creature is the same, I wouldn¡¯t trust it unless I could put it down like the others. At the very least, we¡¯ll need collateral before putting it to use.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the Children of the Elm. It¡¯s fortunate that we have some on hand.¡± Morgan stated simply and nodded, like she wasn¡¯t treating people like assets. Yeah, woman, you can saunter over here without your usual jacket in a strappy tank top with those excellent biceps and curves to try and have me lower my guard¡­ but I would¡¯ve never gotten this far if my sense of paranoia hasn¡¯t always managed to lock away my lust. Short-haired, fit tomboy with glasses is any decent man¡¯s weakness, but unfortunately for you, I know for a fact that you¡¯re capable of horrible shit. ¡°We should have her attended by them. If she gets close, we can make use of them as leverage.¡±


    ¡°A good idea, I¡¯ll put it into motion. We have a few younger ones all but clamoring for parental figures, and this goddess of nature may have a motherly tendency.¡± Honestly, I was more on the side of treating the goddess very well and just giving her tons of tribute and dedicating what I needed to dedicate to her. Gods in the game only got pissed if you failed their event chains, and I wasn¡¯t about to do that, since I already had her locked in. It¡¯d be a waste to not use her. ¡°I won¡¯t be approaching her until she¡¯s secured as an ally. However, your suggestion holds merit, especially if she bears children with some of her power.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that hadn¡¯t occurred to me. Demigods would truly be a grand advantage. We¡¯ll need to hasten making sure she¡¯s ours, then.¡± Morgan grinned, like she wasn¡¯t talking about making use of an artificial entity with divine powers to pump out super soldiers. ¡°I¡¯ve a few potent concoctions in mind, if she proves resistant to the act.¡±


    Right, we¡¯re steering away from the standard non-consensual hentai doujin plot.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my utmost to make sure it doesn¡¯t come to that.¡± I simply told Morgan, who waggled her eyebrows at me. I¡¯m not being a prude, you freak. I¡¯m being a decent person. ¡°Now, there¡¯s some other news that should interest you. The Demonic Blade has been sanctified and will be arriving to be at your disposal tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Oh? A present?¡± Morgan grinned, practically telling me she already knew the details. Once the Demonic Sword that corrupted Crusher was acquired, we¡¯d built a fortress around it and proceeded to study it. The standard good choice after choosing not to pick it up, the event chain progressed rapidly, as I knew who to contact and how to get the work done. After breaking it apart, purifying it, breaking it apart some more, and purifying it some more, the Sanctified Blade was made. Legendary artifact with a simple caveat: the one using it could only use physical enhancement magic after drawing it out of its scabbard. The sword swallowed up magic in its vicinity, enough to make weak Undead like zombies and skeletons just die on the spot, so whoever wielded it need to be capable of extreme violence with just their bare hands. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to putting that blade to use, especially against the damnable creature that escaped me.¡±


    Of course, she saw her minor failure for being able to reach orbit as being more important than what was currently happening.


    ¡°And, the Death Lord.¡± I idly reminded her.


    ¡°Oh, and him. Yes.¡±


    Morgan hummed for a moment, before I recalled something.


    ¡°Oh, and find someone worth of training for the invisible blade of yours.¡± She got a while back, while purging the Academy out of the Ancient¡¯s transportation system. Morgan gave me a dour look, not liking the idea at all, but I decided to be firm. ¡°Your duty for the foreseeable future is to kill the monsters that utilize terrible magics or have some form of esoteric defense with the Sanctified Blade. An assassin¡¯s weapon will do you little good, especially when you¡¯re more than capable of just using your wires to slice throats without them noticing.¡±


    ¡°Well, excuse me for wanting an invisible blade that never dulls.¡± Morgan huffed but shook her head. A gleam came upon her vision after a moment, though. She looked at me expectantly and I took the sheaf of papers I had prepare from a satchel on the side of my horse and handed it to her. ¡°Are you sure? I¡¯m going to be a little rough training them and my mission will be very, very dangerous.¡±


    ¡°They need the experience, and foes such as the ones we face now will be far more common in the future. You¡¯ve seen the reports. Beyond these lands, magic flows like water.¡± Morgan nodded in understanding, while picking through the papers. We searched for people with potential. Those without the talent for warfare were trained in administration for towns. Those that did were being groomed to lead thousands of troops. Those with the most potential, those who could become Champions, were sequestered along the same routes but for whole cities and armies. I was going to have my potential Champions partner up with my existing ones, while training them for their roles. ¡°We need more Champions, plain and simple, so¡­ they''re the ones that volunteered for the most dangerous positions, for their nation, for little more than pocket change.¡±


    I was giving Morgan the pick of the most nationalistic of our batch, so that there was a chance that they wouldn¡¯t become loyal to her instantly. Their talents weren¡¯t exceptional, but each one had the potential to be a Champion, and that was enough to make them qualify.


    Morgan, of course, smiled as she looked over the profiles.


    Either she saw it as a fine challenge, or a new tool to use.


    At the very least, in the short term, I was going to get some tough people trained by her at my disposal.


    I turned away from her as she read, but added one last thing.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind. You can be a little rough.¡±


    ¡°Oh-ho. Thank you very much, your majesty.¡±


    Translation:


    Me: If they don¡¯t die from you, it¡¯s fine.


    Morgan: Time to pump them full of drugs and health tinctures, put them in terrible situations, and have no one stop me until I get them to the level I like.

 V7: Chapter 9

    V7: Chapter 9


    ¡­


    The final stage of an event in the game is dependent on how well you''ve done throughout the whole affair.


    For example, if the Death Lord was allowed to run rampant, it''d eventually evolve from a tutorial crisis as it''d take over a Citadel and become a faction all its own. You fight through the event the whole time, but never out of your own territory, don''t bother with it since it''s not after you, and you find yourself with an enemy that churns out troops nonstop armed with decent armor and weapons. It''ll be an endless enemy spawner that will relentlessly attack you, encroach your territory, and need to be put down with massive casualties.


    That would be the worst outcome, practically game ending in a game mode at the highest difficulty level with four crises on the wings, and I went out of my way to avoid it.


    In fact, I went out of my way to play it as the game developers intended.


    Engaging with the event, securing the pop-ups and answering the correctly, and engaging with the event in every angle. I used diplomacy to get a ceasefire and allies. I bullied the merchants to embolden my economy. My battle extended into the realm of espionage with me poisoning their supplies and destabilizing them with double agents and spies. And, even though I didn''t have a choice, I made sure the battles against them were near-perfect with as few casualties as possible.


    In every metric, I dominated the event, and my prize was a Death Lord that should really just surrender.


    Its Champions were gone, most of its territory was seized, and all it could produce were Undead. Unlike the game, the Undead weren''t unlimited. The Death Lord needed bodies, at the very least skeletons, and those skeletons didn''t automatically spawn with armor or weapons. Sure, all that remained of its armies were in there and it had plenty of civilizations to throw at us, but that was a solvable issue without its surrender.


    Massed enemy infantry against entrenched positions with overlapping fields of fire, while my supply lines were unreachable and my factories untouched?


    Yeah.


    Human wave tactics are a solvable issue with my current forces, let alone with time to build up fortifications to use.


    Again, the Death Lord should just surrender, but it couldn''t do that because the event wouldn''t end unless it was defeated.


    I held out hope that I would be wrong, as my armies and those of my allies surrounded it, but as the encirclement completed, I shed those hopes.


    Of course, we were going to have to do this the hard way.


    ¡­


    The number of tribal peoples captured from the territories outside of the Death Lord''s ''fuck off'' range was around a four hundred and fifty thousand people. We just did a head count. No proper demographics or anything, yet, but from a casual glance I''d say most of them were on the young side with teens taking care of children. The tribal people were mostly beast-folk, meaning that both genders fought and even their elderly fought, because they had superior physical prowess.


    Anyway, moving half-a-million people around was obviously going to be difficult, so I went ahead and entrenched my forces with the intention of processing them before moving onto the proper siege.


    It would also allow everyone else to catch up and make sure there weren''t any gaps in the encirclement.


    Thankfully, as arduous the process was of getting so many people disseminated across my territories, I had the Ancient Administrator on my side and a few ideas.


    It was mostly a modification of my work camp idea, but with some ideas from back home.


    "A points system. Yes, this can work as a basis for release from the camps we''re creating." Ayah nodded upon evaluating my proposal. The plan was to move the population around in groups of five thousand. That''s ninety camps all over my territories, which will be attached to various towns that are close to military installations and fortresses. Once at the camps, they''ll be evaluated, put to work, educated, and earn their way out to the normal population. I think I read about the process in some book where zombies took the whole world over, but I wasn''t quite sure. "I presume that those with skills that can be used immediately will have higher starting points?"


    "And, those who do well in classes to learn how to read and write." Most of the population we were now dealing with lived as tribes that answered the call of the Death Lord, after they realized their way of life was at an end. Though I was tempted to give them reservations, and let them govern themselves if they exploited the tiles that I put them on, I didn''t have the luxury of being that merciful. I needed more workers. Plain and simple. "I want any elders or any adults moved aside. Also, comb through their population for Champion candidates and move them towards ennoblement."


    This was an act of genocide. I''m taking the children and raising them under my nation. The adults and elders of the current generation will be the last to remember the ways of their people. Sure, I''m not putting them to death en masse, but the fact remained that I was obliterating their culture and society. Sure, they intended to raid, pillage, and destroy us while led by a Death Lord, but we raised the Citadel first and put them to the sword to take all the land we could. There may be tribes here that lived off raiding towns and villages before the Citadels arose, but there are just as many who just wandered and lived off the land, and who had no other option if they wanted to keep their history.


    Those who joined my nation were just subsumed by its culture and society, practically leaving no trace of what came before.


    I mean, the neutral mobs and their tribes have plagued the rest of the continent and done horrible shit to the point that everyone else is just killing them all, but what I''m doing is still pretty fucked.


    "It will be as you bid, your majesty." Ayah gave a prim bow, before speaking to its staff. With us hanging around for a bit, it called in several clerks alongside the supporting elements brought to field. I generally kept the ''tail'' of my army far away from the field. Logistics are the key to keeping our pace and keeping my armies alive, so I didn''t want putting the ''bean counters'' at risk. Each one of those guys have at least two years of education and have ongoing education to make them better at their jobs. Losing one now, may very well lead to losing a whole unit in the future due to someone else fucking up their job. "Actually, someone of interest has already come to light. One of the last shamans of the tribal peoples has immense potential."


    I nodded.


    "Gather up all you can of their texts and comb through the prisoners for their magic users. We''ll use that one to find the best of their magics, so nothing is lost. If he''s not amenable, make him so." Ayah gave a nod at my instructions and looked the way of my Iterant guards. They moved wordlessly at its command. My order basically gave them the green light to use everything short of torture to get that poor kid to become our receptacle for all tribal magics like a living tome. The kid''s family is likely going to be used as insurance/hostages. If we can start spamming chain lightning and setting up healing wards like they did, though, I''d consider the price worth it. "Back to the processing of the survivors. I''m thinking that there as some lands more suitable for them than others. The Conquerors'' lands the Scholars'' former lands need more according to the last reports."


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    "Indeed. I recommend focusing on the Conqueror''s lands, if you wish to prioritize and allocate them. The Conquerors'' culture and environment is well suited for much of the beast tribes, and they have need of many laborers."


    "Make sure Crusher knows about the point systems, and that we''re doing it purely to make sure that we don''t find rebellions fomenting." Crusher wouldn''t take slaves and these work camps resemble them in a way. The Conquerors were very much against slavery. However, they also understood necessity and half a million people being around very much required changes to regular operating procedures. "Make sure that we''re providing for them completely. Medical care, food, baths, and even camp stores for them to spend points at. Work with the locals, set up jobs for them to earn points at a higher rate, and they''ll get others out faster by donating points."


    Ayah nodded and took down notes, while I did my best to get a handle on the situation. This will all need to be written, the plans will need to be finalized, and people who can handle managing the plans needed to be found who can use their brains when the plan didn''t work perfectly. Everything about any situation I faced was down to how well I could assign what I wanted done to the right person at the right place and at the right time, so money, time, and lives aren''t wasted.


    Honestly?


    I would''ve quit my job, if I wasn''t sure that doing it was the only way I''d be seeing old age in my new life.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Once more, I beheld the construction capabilities of the King of Wisdom and could only frown at the sight of it all.


    "By the ancestors, this is what the King of Wisdom is capable of?" Mallory beheld it for the first time and her mouth was agape and eyes wide. Awe and horror intermixed upon her features. After cresting a hill, we looked down upon an expanse of what was once farmland and beheld the will of the King of Wisdom. "This feels like a dream to look upon, especially so close to enemy territory."


    Thousands of tents were arrayed in neat groups. Dirt roads connected them to logistical centers. Watchtowers looked at the skies, walls and ramparts were in key positions, training fields had soldiers maintain their bodies, and whole buildings and facilities were in construction. Transports flew in constantly in a long strip of dirt next to a large warehouse from which multitudes of wagons came to and fro laden with cargo. Once more I looked upon a city built for war for a singular campaign by the King of Wisdom''s machinations, and this one looked more robust and better than the one I saw previously.


    As I surveyed it all, I found the building I was looking for¡­ where he was hard at work in a perfect replica of his office.


    "Stay close and in parade formation." I led the vanguard of my people''s forces. Five hundred light cavalry, which I designed to be a mobile, highly-effective spearhead to supplement my lumbering, Undead forces. Armed with our best attempt at repeating firearms, cavalry sabers, and all wielding magic, they served me well as we charged and broke apart our foes so that they would fall with greater ease against our main force of Undead. I had looked upon them with pride when I first saw them, but now I could only see the wear and tear upon their uniforms, the huffing and panting of their horses, and how they were all tired after constant battles. "Do not show weakness."


    "A bit late for that, I''m afraid. My lord just has a way of making everyone else look weak."


    A voice reached me and my knights drew swords, and I looked towards the path we were set to take.


    There was a young woman there, with messy hair and a large coat, wearing thick glasses on her face.


    Behind her were four others in ragged clothing, each one carrying a buck on their backs, and¡­ no sign of weapons on their person.


    She waved at me, and I paused as I realized who she was.


    "Lady Morgan, Champion of the King of Wisdom." Where she walked, wherever she was sent, devastation fell upon the King of Wisdom''s enemies. If Rita was his scalpel, and Ilych his sword, then Morgan was the hammer. She looked upon me, with all my finest knights at my back, and withdrew an apple from a pouch at her belt and took a bite. A fresh apple picked from an orchard on the other side of the continent. Neither me nor my troops have had anything besides rations in the past weeks. She knew what she was doing. "May I ask you to escort us in? Your companions seem ready to aid in providing a feast to your king."


    "Oh, you''ve got spirit and a decent head between your shoulders. You also got here faster than the Forgers and the Wardens. 1st place¡­ in your category, at least." Morgan goaded, and Mallory nearly growled. However, I knew my knights well enough and I knew this game. I held up my hand, palm open and all my knights stayed silent and still. Morgan took a crisp bite of an apple. "Good leadership skills, too. Good all around¡­ so why stay separate? You and I both know it''s better to just join. We''re not taking anything away from you, after all."


    "¡­My people gave much for our Citadel. Too much to simply give away and surrender the future that we wish to forge." I answered Morgan, and she consumed the entirety of the apple until only the stem remained, uncaring of seeds. Even the stem was used a makeshift toothpick between her lips, as she bobbed her head from side to side at my answer. "And, I knew the time is soon to come when he will come after our lands. When that day comes it will be as the Deliverer envisioned before his life was taken. It will be a battle between Champions, and to the victor goes everything."


    As soon as those words left my lips, I suddenly felt an unknown pressure lift from my shoulders.


    "Ah, you should''ve started with that, Lady Celia! We wouldn''t have had to do this, if you''d just told me!" Morgan beamed at me and threw something my way. I caught it and found an apple in my gauntleted hand. She turned on her heel, raised her arm, and made a circular motion with her finger then pointed forward. Her followers, without a word aimed their way, turned, and began to march towards the forward base ahead of us.


    She gestured for us to follow and we did, before she spoke to me again once more.


    I could hear the pleased smile on her face¡­


    "I think you''re right, you know? You''ll be a far better general or administrator than a leader."


    ¡­ as she whispered my way a dream that I held that I had not shared with no other soul.


    Not even my own.

 V7: Chapter 10

    V7: Chapter 10


    ¡­


    Anyone who¡¯s played a multiplayer game can tell you that vision is incredibly important.


    While I was born past the age when four player split screen was a thing, I managed to catch the tail end of split screen gaming before everything went straight to multiplayer. Dividing our lines of sight with some cardboard, playing rounds with just one bullet in the chamber up to 2AM and just eating fake cheese with crackers and tons of sugary carbonated drinks¡­ yeah, those were the days.


    Anyway, while screen-peaking and using x-ray hacks is a sign of a low IQ individual looking for clout in an online game, scouting and cheating to get as much actionable intelligence as possible is essential in reality. Without a doubt, it¡¯s imperative that you know what your opponent is doing, so that you can respond or even do something to stop whatever they¡¯re planning.


    Find their factories so that they can be sabotaged, find the places they¡¯re using to supply to factories and secure those areas, and put the vice on their civilization population. If you hit those places and threaten the right people, you can get the enemy to come to you, avoiding whatever entrenchments or plans they¡¯ve cooked up. If you¡¯re on the defensive, knowing what the enemy has at their disposal is even more essential. Their troop movements tell you where they¡¯re not, where you can hit, while you try to gain the initiative, make them split up their forces, and do your best to defeat them in detail or lure them into your defenses or traps.


    All of that, of course, should be based on how many troops you have (manpower), how long you can keep those troops in the fight (logistics), how well those troops can fight against the enemy (tech level), and how fast they can move (movement). Information and the leadership to put that information to work, makes it so that all that¡¯s been prepared can be used to achieve objectives and campaign goals. Once those objectives and goals are met, then victory can be said to be achieved.


    Information alone is useless without the ability to make use of it.


    Having an army capable of fighting and moving around is useless without knowing what the enemy is doing and how to fight them.


    Finally, having both won¡¯t matter, if you don¡¯t have achievable objectives and goals.


    You can have perfect information, and an incredible army, but you¡¯re shit out of luck if your campaign objectives are poorly thought-out dogshit.


    Like, y¡¯know, trying to build a nation in a country whose majority population hates you, or trying to force an enemy country to surrender solely through air power without putting boots on the ground.


    Failures you can get back up from and learn from aren¡¯t failures.


    They¡¯re vital pieces of information to learn from and keep in mind for the next fight.


    ¡­


    Erlan of the Forgers, Celia of the Guardians, and Khalai of the Wardens all surrounded the latest iteration of my war table for the campaign. We stopped long enough for everyone to catch up, while we were processing refugees. For all intents and purposes, we had the Death Lord surrounded, and now we were grouped up nice and neatly to plan the final push.


    Even though we were several kilometers away from the Death Lord¡¯s spellcasting range, and behind several lines of static defenses and two armies, the current gathering was pretty dumb. All the defenses we had layered on the building we were meeting at, all the extra patrols, could¡¯ve been avoided if we had the ability to communicate with one another over long distances.


    Alas, we were still working on morse code, let alone telephone, and a lot of what we were going to discuss today was dynamic and the transit time for even flying messengers was too long.


    Sieges are complex and ridiculously expensive even against a single castle. We¡¯re putting a whole province to siege, and our opponent can hit us from its tower from twenty kilometers away with barrages of artillery-grade magic. Sure, we can just charge our forces in and exhaust the mana of a Death Lord capable of raising up hundreds of thousands of Undead through sheer attrition, but troops aren¡¯t as easily replaced in reality as it was in game. I needed them alive¡­ so¡­ I had to plan a siege with three different factions on the wings, since I wanted their armies alive, too.


    I thought that it¡¯d be a headache and a half, but I was glad to be wrong.


    ¡°I can have a weapon that we can use. The anti-air weapons we¡¯ve developed have proven their worth as a replacement for ballistae and trebuchet.¡± Celia spoke up. After a week resting and waiting for her advisers to arrive, she came to the meeting in deep-red, Victorian-era military uniform with her hair tied up. She looked more like a general than a leader, fitting in with Erlan more than me and Khalai. Anyway, the pseudo-drone hives the Undead developed had been an interesting unit made to counter my air supremacy. They used small, undead flying creatures like bullets which swarmed the air and collided with the enemy and detonated. Its success against the Harpies was well-documented, but the news of it being aimed at ground forces was news to me. ¡°The current mobile hives we¡¯ve created can only reach ten kilometers, but with time and resources, we can flood the air of the enemy and provide the Death Lord with targets it cannot ignore.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what you need, and I¡¯ll get it for you.¡± I looked over my shoulder at Ayah, and she nodded. Turning back to Celia, I instructed her as best as I could without demeaning her ability. ¡°We will need many. Dozens. A hundred would be best.¡±


    ¡°Do you aim to kill the Death Lord with just that alone?¡± Erlan asked, in his capacity as general of the Forgers. ¡°Supplies and materials may be better used for conventional battle.¡±


    Celia frowned at him, seeing his words as contest to her own proposal.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    I raised my hand to end the argument before it began.


    ¡°As of this moment, we have a month of supplies for equipment, munitions, and food for all four of our combined forces. Whatever is brought in now will not change our ability to run rampant and wage a conventional battle.¡± Erlan nodded, mollified by my statement, though I took note of the fact he had no proposal beyond that. The Forgers were really leaving him and his people out to dry without reinforcement or extra support. I knew the guy well enough to take note that he didn¡¯t like being at the table without being able to offer anything else. ¡°And, in regards to that, Khalai, I believe that you had something for me?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Jackie. Only the best for you.¡± Khalai was covered in near-see-through silks and golden bands and a veil. A belly dancer outfit, basically. With his hair grown out into a long braid that went over one shoulder, if not for the crown on his brow, you¡¯d think him an exotic dancer that wandered away from the entertainment camp I set up. What? It¡¯s better than the soldiers getting stupid ideas with the people we¡¯re trying to integrate, and I can make sure they can get checked for venereal diseases going in and out. ¡°We¡¯ve studied the descriptions of the magic the Death Lord used against the Familiars that you¡¯ve sent and we have countermeasures tested and at the ready. My Priests and Paladins can work together to repel the attacks, though it will take much of their strength. Enough strength that I cannot promise the return of all that perish before Paradise tempts them away.¡±


    In the lore of the game, it was described that the Wardens had ridiculously high magical damage resistance thanks to their ability to use miracles to weaken magics. That high magical damage resistance kept up with magics the whole game, no matter the tier, so I guessed that they could improve on whatever they used and passively improving their techniques.


    My guess proved correct, and now we had something that could protect us once we waded in to take the place.


    Now, it was my turn to leverage what I had at my disposal against the Death Lord.


    ¡°My forces will advance on both fronts. The main one present here will be supported by the Forgers. The Wardens and Guardians will act as they believe they ought.¡± I decided against ordering Khalai and Celia around. They were the leaders of their people. It was best to stay in their good graces. Also, Khalai¡¯s forces had poor defense against physical attacks, while most of Celia¡¯s forces couldn¡¯t afford to leave their holdings in the Academy¡¯s former territory to be raided. ¡°Besides the main force, I have a new card to play. Ayah, bring the piece.¡±


    Ayah nodded and gingerly took out the piece propped up on a circular pedestal and held aloft.


    The map was covered in various shapes and sizes. Triangles represented cavalry. T-shaped blocks infantry divisions. Squares fortresses and circles supply points. My aerial cavalry¡¯s bases were signified by horse hooves surrounded by outstretched wings.


    Finally, the new piece was my mobile air-base.


    I didn¡¯t pretend like they didn¡¯t know about it.


    ¡°I¡¯ve armored the prow with enough magical and physical defenses to withstand siege weapons and magical artillery for days.¡± It was a flying box with on of the sides given a trireme-like shaped prow to better bounce of attacks and ¡®lengthen¡¯ the armor. ¡°It¡¯ll advance with my second army and its payload is Guardians. Five thousand of them frozen and set to defrost right when they hit the ground. They¡¯ll be able to operate for several minutes after being dropped on the enemy. They¡¯ll be supported by all the Conquerors I can spare. Not commandos, but warriors all the same. It¡¯ll reach the enemy¡¯s position in a week.¡±


    The job of my flying box was to get to the enemy¡¯s last, entrenched position and rain down thousands of Guardians. The living weapons, with their speed, toughness, and ability to cut through most foes will act as shock troops and terror weapons, while Conquerors enact one of the first parachute jobs since the Ancients fell. Armed with melee weapons, explosives, and our first models of Conqueror-sized revolvers, as well as exceedingly well-armored, my flying platform was rendered little more than an oversized transport¡­ but that was good enough for the job at hand.


    Or, it would be if not for the problem that we found out several hours ago from our scouts.


    ¡°That would be enough to shatter the enemy, if not for their Death Lord¡¯s final project.¡± Erlan stated grimly, while Khalai and Celia nodded. They looked at the base of the tower where a token with a skull sigil lay. ¡°That damned monstrosity will be mobile before then.¡±


    In-game, one of the T3 units that the monster nation that the Death Lord can create after taking a Citadel was the Legion Amalgam. A Titan unit, which every army can only have one of, because it was equal to several thousand men in terms of firepower and strength and hit points. Endgame has you rolling around with at least one in each army, because if you don''t have one and the enemy does, you¡¯re absolutely boned.


    Anyway, back to the Legion Amalgam.


    The massive creature was composed of thousands of sacrifices. A hulking hill of sloughing flesh and corpses on a frame of bone. It resembled a snail with a giant human torso protruding out the front, which had two massive arms that swept the battlefield to cause massive AoE damage. It had a crush ability that can be used on Champions to instant-kill anything not specialized for the fight or overqualified for it. Then, to top it off, when its ¡®shell¡¯ opened it revealed a massive orb of Undead magic that would revive any dead around it and deal damage to anything not Undead over the whole battlefield. On the overworld, it could raise Undead if it reached a place where a battle took place the last five turns, practically spawning a whole stack of T1 Undead units for free and with no maintenance cost, and any opponent unit in the same region would have a morale debuff as long as it existed. Its main weaknesses were the facts that it didn¡¯t have an anti-air attack, it¡¯s slow on the overworld so it can be kited over several turns, and despite its crush skill¡­ it wasn¡¯t much of a match for a dedicated titan-killer Champion.


    Most of the sacrifices made to create it were Beast Tribe Soldiers, Harpies, and lesser monsters. The Death Lord effectively ate the part of its army that needed extensive maintenance and support, took their weapons to arm its legions, and used the mass to fuel a massive ritual sacrifice. Now, it had a lumbering, powerful titan that¡¯ll roam around the map, creating armies if it reached battlefields, and generally being a nuisance until it got put down.


    Just like it always did once it was cornered at the end of the tutorial event.


    ¡°As terrible this weapon is, the fact remains it can only be at one location at one time and once the Death Lord is dead, we have control over the skies. I can burn this titan away until it is ash.¡± This part of the tutorial is meant to teach the player the design of Events. They¡¯re meant to be memorable at the very end. They¡¯re rites of passage for new players and benchmarks for veterans and places to earn style points for experts. The Legion Amalgam, supported by Undead, was something I killed thousands of times over. The problem was that it usually didn¡¯t have anti-air support from the Death Lord. ¡°The Death Lord either needs to die, or its weapons must be targeted elsewhere.¡±


    Celia looked my way with concern, while Khalia raised an eyebrow.


    I shook my head, as I realized what they thought was going to happen.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m not going to lead you another strike team into enemy territory to assassinate the enemy leader.¡± I raised my hands up and let that idea die in its infancy. I have many assets at my disposal now, so I didn¡¯t have to wade into enemy territory. ¡°Celia, you¡¯ve already met her. Morgan, come on in and introduce yourself.¡±


    Hm.


    Was it just me or was Celia not looking forward to meeting Morgan again?


    Strange.


    Morgan said that they got along.

 V7: Chapter 11

    V7: Chapter 11


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    Jack called it a flying box, but in truth it more resembled the flying fortress.


    The massive construction was built with the same concept as the transports pulled by flying horses. It would be expensive beyond belief to enchant a transport to fly and carry weight. Instead, what was required to achieve the effect was broken down, specialized, and made stronger. For example, one of the magics used to lift the transport was a simple Float. A charming spell that a passing hobbyist could learn, but could be used to great effect by trained mages to do as the name suggested and float.


    Until the magic was gone, or cancelled, one would float in place. A human without wings could not move in the air without using some form of magic. The regular Float spell that most could cast could lift up a regular adult mortal for a few minutes and hold them in place. If the spell was cast one another, it could be easily disrupted by just force of will. Strong, powerful mages, however, could float and move with magic channeled behind them.


    The Float spell was modified, refined, and removed and cast upon load bearing places beneath the transport. The mages powering it would activate it and then it would proceed to be pulled along by flying horses. Many who did not know that was how we achieved flight was shocked by the revelation, as many believed we cracked some secret spell that allowed flight wholesale.


    No.


    Jack bid us to break things down to the smallest part, then improve them as much as possible, and implement them to do their duty. Like cogs in a clock, each small piece was refined to do its duty, until we now have our current, flying fortress.


    The underside of it was studded with hundreds of blocks that kept it afloat in the air. Its back held multiple enchanted blocks, which propelled it forward when magic was cast into them. A series of pulleys in the captain''s cabin signaled to mages when to push magic into the specialized, enchanted blocks. Lowering magic in the floating stones made the structure descend, increasing it made it ascend. Having only the right side of the propelling blocks ignite, made it turn left, and vice-versa when the left side was solely ignited. Half as much of the propelling blocks were at the front, to allow it to slow down, stop, and reverse in half as much time.


    It was a slow and cumbersome transport, which takes a week to travel the same length as a regular transport would a day, but it was also far more durable and the amount its hold contained was staggering. Its hold right now contained thousands of guardians, frozen, and packed close together and a thousand Conquerors could board it to be launched after, once it was close enough to its target. Overall, it''s cargo capacity more than made up for its cost, because even though it took fifty mages to power it had the capacity of a nearly a thousand transports.


    We can easily use copies of it to transport vast amounts of war materials, or regular goods, across the continent.


    With time, we could cover it in weapons, in more armor, and all the equipment needed to wage war.


    And, it can be used against the terrible creatures I found in my expedition.


    For now, though, it would be used against the Death Lord.


    "I''ve just gotten the message, Captain. The last of the preparations are complete." Gunther spoke up, and I turned his way. He was clad in all black with his status as an officer on his chest. The uniform was simple, but the gold arrow on his chest symbolized his position as my right-hand man. His word was as good as mine, and he handled the preparations after I set them in motion. "The vessel is ready to begin its journey."


    Exactly on time.


    "Give them the signal to launch." I ordered, and Gunther spoke to several waiting attendants. Soon the messages were away. Horns on the ground blared, to get the attention of those above, and it blared in turn. At the communication center, the right code was set and large flags were raised by pulleys and levers. They needed to be large to be easily observable from the height that the vessel was at. "And, send a message to the men that we''ll be going to our front in two days."


    "It''s time, then?" Gunther asked, and I nodded.


    "It is time to put the Death Lord to rest, yes." I crossed my arms and considered what lay ahead. The creature was cornered and was unveiling a new weapon to try and break out. The creature that Jack described in his letters was worrisome, especially with the set of abilities he postulated the creature would have. Its size and strength were no laughing matter, but the fact it could raise the dead was a problem. It could turn the armies launched against it to its own after killing them. "Once we''re there, we''ll be contacting Priests and Paladins sent by the Wardens to offer protection against magic and the like. Make sure the men have the coin to vent their lusts and not to make fools of themselves."


    "Aye. Don''t want the ones keeping our forces intact troubled."


    "On the contrary, I don''t want our men preyed upon by the Warden''s clergy." I laughed as Gunther grunted and shook his head. Young men, especially ones without wives, were weak enough to wily affection. The Wardens were trained in seduction, one and all, and they could easily poach our soldiers if we were not careful. "Remember two decades ago, when we lost Richard to that female Warlord?"


    Gunther grunted, before shaking his head and palming his face.


    "I''d forgotten, but now you''ve reminded me. Cavalry captain. Could''ve made it far, but got enticed and next thing we know that whole group got hit by two other Warlords¡­ in other words, the Academy."


    "We won''t have to worry about the Academy, but it''s best that we make sure it doesn''t happen. The young ones under our command can give too much, even in passing." I instructed and Gunther assented with a grunt. These new soldiers knew much. Just having one as a passing instructor would speed up the other nations immensely. The codified tactics our troops had, how a single soldier should act, were very generalized¡­ but any scholar could find more. Mostly in what our soldiers didn''t have to worry about at all. How they didn''t have to learn how to forage, how they didn''t need to suture their own wounds, or how if their officers were killed they were to push and push, until another called them back. Too much could be given in exchange for one lost soldier. "I''ll be instructing a few¡­ custodians to look after them, but it''s best they don''t come into play."


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    Gunther nodded, his brow briefly furrowing at my words, before we moved on with the massive construct taking flight above us, while we went to speak to our troops.


    All under the shadow of a Citadel that seemed ever closer to piercing the clouds.


    It was almost hard to believe that just a decade ago, I lived front tent to tent fighting battles on horseback for little more than coin.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    The makeshift artillery of the Guardians was incredible to behold.


    From hexagonal hives carried on wagons by undead horses, there came forth thousands of Undead Familiars. Unlike the normal Familiars used by Mages, which required them to bond with a creature and see through its eyes and senses while directing it, Undead Familiars were semi-independent and followed commands. Their necromancer creators could not see through their eyes, could not sense through them at all, but neither did they suffer if the Undead creation was destroyed.


    So, the Guardians were able to use dead, flying creatures explosive munitions in immense numbers.


    Twenty of the hexagonal hives were dismounted and activated once taken off the wagon and a great deluge of flying Undead issued forth. Celia informed me they were mostly made of Undead pigeons, which they already raised for food, and bred and matured quickly. In life they were fattened to make food, and in death their bones were assembled and enchanted¡­ in a deliberately unstable manner, so that they would come apart and explode in blooms of ghastly, azure flame in the sky.


    One of the Undead creatures, upon striking an unarmored and unprotected horse''s cadaver, blew the corpse cleanly in half. Therefore, I could estimate that each one was a flying munition with the same explosive power of the cannons carried by Conquerors for their anti-material and anti-air work.


    "I can see you, assassin." Alexis, one of the budding Champions of the Guardians, spoke to me. I looked down and found her at the base of the tree I sat upon. She glared at me with her helmet tucked under one arm and her free hand on the pommel of her sword. It was a blade that would come alight with ghostly flame, capable of bypassing most physical armor. Her armor was specialized to provide physical protection, as her body was inherently resistant to magical attacks. "Pray tell, what are you doing here watching our weapons at work?"


    "I find their launches beautiful, so I decided to come see them closer." The flocks of Undead enchased themselves in magic as they ascended through the sky. A transparent shell of power that reflected their physical forms before their deaths came upon their bodies. Each one was different from one another, each one an individual in their own way, in the way they flew, in how they flew closer to friends, and in the patterns of their feathers. Even in death, even as little more than game birds raised en masse, they had souls that manifested after their demise to take one final flight. "Does Lady Celia have need of me?"


    I descended from my perch off the tree and landed beside her.


    Alexis was young, just barely past her second decade, and already immortal. That spoke of incredible talent for her years. Still, the scent of life clung to her a bit. Life still clung to her as a halfling of the Vampiric race. Her true ascension was still not completed¡­ and if she failed and was found disloyal the blessing given to her could be undone and she would be rendered mortal once more. Celia was learning her limits, and becoming a better leader of it.


    "No, I searched for you of my own volition. I know you not, yet you will ride with us into battle. I need your measure, if not through a spar then at least to see you practice with your weapons." Distrust was plain in her gaze, but she swallowed it in favor of better doing her duties. Not only that, but she asked me to reveal my strength to her. Doing so would be allow us to fight better together, and give her the ability to fight against me better. Celia has found a good Champion. "Morgan showed us her abilities. You ask of you to do the same."


    I shook my head.


    "You''ve been fooled. Morgan showed you what you wanted to see. She showed you nothing more and nothing less. She''s a cruel, effective teacher." I informed her and gestured for her to follow. I had my bow wrapped at my back, unstrung, and we walked together to the Guardian''s camp. They used Undead Laborers to rapidly create fortifications, make latrines, and dig out shelters. It was more an entrenchment complex than a camp, but it was functional and housed troops safely and even had plenty of concealment. Hm. If it was bombed from above, the smallness of the rooms and the ways the tunnels were arranged would limit explosive shock waves. I saw it all as good foresight. Morgan would probably see it as how much Celia feared our King. "Did you leave her with your lady alone? She may be whispering thoughts unbidden to her at this very moment."


    "¡­You speak of the tactician like a viper in our midst. Do you fear this woman''s ambitions in your lord''s presence?"


    I shook my head and answered without hesitation.


    "There is only one being Morgan respects and honors in this world, and it is our King of Wisdom. If she did not, then I would''ve killed her and died doing so since I gained her full measure." I bluntly told Alexis the truth of the matter, as to convey to her the deadliness Morgan posed to anyone who was not the King of Wisdom. She fawned over him, sought to protect him, and worked diligently to raise herself up in his gaze. That is all because she saw his strength, his power, and his ability to lead. She knew of his true circumstance, of Khanrow''s initial use of him as a puppet, but we all knew the truth. Jack rose to prominence and ruled over us all. "Never leave Morgan unwatched. She will teach you not to trust. Never give her access to things you do not want her to see. She will take everything you do not lock away. Never lower your guard in her presence. She will carve out your heart with a smile."


    I did my best to try and convey Morgan''s abilities to Alexis, but I saw doubt in her eyes¡­ and I sighed and shook my head.


    She will have to learn on her own, then.


    It will be a very painful lesson for a very meagre reward.


    I changed the subject.


    "I will do as you ask of me, Knight of the Guardians. Lead me to where I can show you my skills. I only ask of you to do the same, as my usual partner is with another."


    Alexis nodded, before recognition came upon her features.


    "I have heard of the Sword of Wisdom¡­ and what she is meant to do in our coming campaign. Can she truly defeat that abomination on her own?"


    Our King bid me to follow Morgan, as we would work with Celia to try and kill the Death Lord under the cover of their artillery fire while protected by the Warden''s priests.


    Meanwhile, Ilych and Conquest would go forth and fight the hordes of Undead and the abomination the Death Lord created.


    Conquest would fight with the army.


    Ilych the monstrosity that threatened to end all life on the continent.


    I feared for my friend, but found comfort in the fact that our King bid her to do her duty by killing the beast.


    "The King of Wisdom bid her to kill the beast, so the Sword of Wisdom shall do so."


    I stated the truth, and pushed back my fears.


    It shall be done.


    Ilych will succeed.


    But will she perish in the process and return as another person entirely?

 V7: Chapter 12

    V7: Chapter 12


    ¡­


    The Undead marched against us in force.


    The numbers were so high that they spread across the field like a living, teaming, unbroken mass of bodies. Besides animated skeletons and corpses, there were lesser, feral Undead units usually summoned by Guardian spellcasters. Empowered zombies, known as ghouls, had incredible strength and regenerating health as long as they consumed their enemies.


    Many of the Undead weren¡¯t humanoid, but also animals. Flying flocks of Undead birds attacked my troops, while packs of quadrupedal creatures slipped between their standing fellows to try and slip into our ranks. Then, there were larger, creatures that were raised up. Ogres, trolls, larger beast tribals, waded amongst their common, smaller Undead brethren wielding large trunks of trees like clubs. Most of the Undead scavenged some sort of weapon, many of them just wielded rocks, but a few had arms and armor scavenged from former, living soldiers of the Death Lord.


    Needless to say, if I had an army of only spears and bows and maybe some mages, I would¡¯ve lost against this enemy composition. The classic solution to the problem wouldn¡¯t have been able to contend against the medley of other units to play. The archers would¡¯ve been set upon by the birds and animals, the mages wouldn¡¯t have been able to concentrate fire on the larger monsters since they¡¯d need to wipe out the enemy chaff. Finally, while the spears could¡¯ve held, they¡¯d have lost morale as they continued to lose people, and they would¡¯ve been smashed aside by the enemy¡¯s larger Undead units completely.


    In other words, being overprepared and getting all the help I that I could had been the right call.


    ¡°Reports are coming in from Riegert¡¯s forces. The aerial fortress is weathering the attacks of the Death Lord with greater resiliency than expected. It will arrive a few hours earlier than expected.¡± Ayah relayed information to me, while I watched through a telescope the ongoing battle a few kilometers away. The tide of Undead was colliding against the Forger¡¯s frontline and being mulched. They were the center of the formation, and my spears were defending their flanks, while rifles and mages poured in firepower at the mass. Conquerors were picking apart the larger targets from range and acting as heavy cavalry from time to time. ¡°The first barrage from the Guardians will be sent upon the Death Lord by noon today.¡±


    ¡°Any news from the Wardens? Are they holding fast like I asked them to, or are they moving forward as I predicted?¡±


    ¡°They are eager to kill their most hated foe, so they have begun to move.¡±


    ¡°Are they moving or are they charging?¡±


    ¡°Moving.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a small mercy, then.¡± I idly stated. I didn¡¯t want to step on Khalai¡¯s toes. We¡¯ll need a few years of reorganization and building after this. Could we attack the Wardens right now and wipe them out? Yes, but they can resurrect their troops. We¡¯ll take out their equipment at cost, maybe less with the element of surprise, but the troops and Champions will be back. There¡¯s also the issue with the Forgers and Guardians being present. Maybe, I could threaten them into staying quiet. Nah. Celia would attack on principle. Wouldn¡¯t be Celia, if she didn¡¯t. ¡°We¡¯ll support them from the air when we can. Only our best fliers flying low.¡±


    Ayah nodded, commands were given, and I turned to the next telescope.


    If I found something, I¡¯ll get some reserve force to move in and assist the troops on hand.


    As horrible as it was, I was slowly getting used to letting my field commanders do their jobs, while I looked at the battlefield and added more soldiers where I thought they¡¯d be needed¡­ or where signals came up.


    Things just got worse the farther my forces got.


    Riegert¡¯s forces were beyond my ability to support, as were Celia¡¯s, due to logistical and communication constraints. I could send a few teams of Conquerors their way, to deal with heavy units, with some priority messages. That¡¯s decent. However, if things went wrong, our hands our tied if we needed a couple thousand troops to handle the problem.


    That was the reason why I wanted the aerial fortress in the first place.


    Slow as they might be on paper, getting five thousand troops and enough supplies to last for two weeks anywhere was a massive advantage.


    And, I was using my only one as a massive shield and bombardment vehicle that might get shot down.


    In the end, what I really need is just a lot more people, a lot more factories, and the ability to churn out more of everything, while making sure that everything can reach what I needed. After this, I¡¯m going straight into activating the Ancient¡¯s underground rail network, while putting everything I can into factories.


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    If the tutorial is this hard, then I wasn¡¯t prepared enough for the shitshow that¡¯s going to follow.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Cathe, Mage of the King of Wisdom


    ¡­


    Like a roiling sea of rotten flesh, our foe had stood before us, seemingly indomitable and invincible. Monsters of legend faced us. Endless legions of untiring foes that did not fear injury nor death. Amongst their number were packs of ravenous animals whose mouths and beaks were filled with rot and poison. Feral, mad undead were amongst their ranks, which had the strength to tear apart steel and recover lost limbs from the consumption of flesh. The largest of them were titans that were half-flesh and half baleful, spectral flame that swung around whole trees as clubs.


    An army of nightmares, created by a mythical monster, yet it could not stand against us.


    ¡°Lady Cathe, a target has entered your section of the battlefield.¡± My aide spoke to me with respect. Ten in number, each of my aides were soldiers and messengers both. If my life was threatened, they would spirit me away and protect me on their own. Such was unnecessary with our frontlines advancing, their steel steps unbroken, and spears reaping through our foes. My aides, instead, watched the battlefield and informed me when to strike as I gathered power and waited for the moment I was needed. ¡°Undead giant.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I spoke with my mouth, but found my target through the gaze of my familiar flying above the battlefield. The swarms of undead avians were dispatched first by the Conquerors and the Ancient weaponry, leaving me and my fellows free reign over the skies with our own familiars. I saw from the gaze of my falcon the teaming battlefield filled with foes, crashing against straight lines of steel and spears, and disregarded the lesser foes being dispatched by rifles and spears. I found the giant. It was a misshapen and crude thing, dragging its club behind it, without a hint of understanding in its eyes. All it knew was that it must kill for the sake of its master. Nothing more. I opened my true eyes, as I bid my familiar to continue circling above us. ¡°Send the signal that I will be firing.¡±


    ¡°Signal! Yellow!¡± My aide called out, and the command reverberated around me, until the yellow flag was raised. The one who held it watched in front of us for a response. I waited, gathering power, and in just a few heartbeats we received a response. ¡°Green signal received from frontline. They¡¯re ready, Lady Cathe!¡±


    I nodded in response.


    The thermal lance was a spell conceived by our King of Wisdom. Though he lacked the innate magical power to wield sorceries, he understood how to create, how to iterate, and how to refine spells. He shared with us his method of thinking, listened to us when we offered our own views and understood, and together we slowly began to pull back the veil that hid true magic from our grasp. Though only a few amongst our number could claim to be as capable in creating and iterating and refining as he did, many of us benefitted from the processes and discoveries those select few made.


    Once upon a time, this spell was known as fireball. A powerful, mighty spell that created an orb of flame that could act as artillery. Its base form was used for centuries by mages under the employ of Warlords. It was a weapon designed to shatter the formations of conscripted peasants, and perhaps set a few soldiers in armor alight. It was merely an empty sphere of a spell, meant to fill up the sky, terrorize the enemy, and kill only a few unarmed combatants at most.


    The thermal lance did away with pageantry and appearance and took only the heat generated by the massive flame. The energy and power needed to maintain it became a fraction of what it once needed. Condensed to a fingertip, it appeared as a ball of white light, but in truth it was pure heat, enough to burn ten men into nothing. However, such a thing was dangerous. If I fired it now, it would react with the air and moisture around us and explode the moment I let it loose. Many would¡¯ve decreed the spell a failure at that point, but our King of Wisdom saw that another step was needed.


    A path devoid of air and of water and something else needed to be created for the lance to travel.


    The principle of zero, so plain and simple and involved in daily life, applied itself elegantly to magic.


    So, I created the path towards my opponent, pushing aside everything with ease, and then I launched my attack.


    A brilliant, pure white light as wide as a finger coursed through the air in an instant and collided with the Undead giant. Twice over resistant to magic, because of it being Undead and being composed of a Giant¡¯s body, it nonetheless faltered against my attack. I had struck at the remaining flesh portion of the Undead beast, and the effects of my attack were instant. Flesh rippled and quaked and began to glow as heat suffused it. For a split second, the giant¡¯s upper body ballooned outward and a massive pocket of flesh was filled with a reddish light, then the next it came apart as water superheated and broke what surrounded it apart.


    The undead Giant¡¯s legs took another step forward, before it fell forward, its upper half no longer existent, while I retook my seat to gaze upon the battle from above.


    I saw from above more lances striking at the lumbering enemies of our people. The results were the same time and time again. The massive creatures were felled with single strikes. Lances of light sped forth and felled beast after beast in fiery flash after fiery flash.


    When the Conquerors finished resupplying and resting, they will retake the duties we have now, and put the larger monsters to the sword.


    Then, we mages will return to our duties and come together as one, whole force.


    My heart raced at the mere thought.


    What will our conclave¡¯s leader ask of us to work upon?


    Will we create a lance of heat so large and powerful that it will sweep across the battlefield and set the very ground alight?


    Will we create a sphere of nothingness so large above the enemy force that the rushing winds to fill it will send our foes flying high into the air and fall to their doom?


    Or, will we composed great, stone spears that will fly above the enemy and smash into them before becoming a landslide as it came apart?


    We were already so mighty alone and acting as mere killers of giant beasts.


    But, together, we changed the very battlefield according to our king¡¯s wishes.

 V7: Chapter 13

    V7: Chapter 13


    ¡­


    Interlude: Ilych


    ¡­


    When I was a young girl, a nightmare engulfed me.


    I saw a world covered in flesh, with rivers filled with blood, and a sky filled with flame. Horned monsters looked upon herds of people like cattle, as they slit their own throats and threw themselves into the maws of growing gods.


    Horror.


    Then, the next night, another nightmare came.


    This time the world was composed of metal, of great grinding gears with saw-like teeth, through which people by the thousands were pushed through. Blood, bone, muscle, and all were ground down into nothing and burned. All mortal races died by the hands of living metal shards who composed great ships to pierce the heavens themselves.


    Every night since that first nightmare, I saw only horror.


    Skies filled with poison rain that flooded the earth, monsters born from unholy unions born to kill one another for the right to live, and mortal races turned into game animals for winged beasts with the faces of people and their pets.


    Horrors that I could not share without fear of being deemed insane.


    I saw the world covered in water with only mountain ranges as refuges for mortal races. From the depths of the seas, monsters came as gods expecting tribute from those who lived upon land. They supped upon the brains of children, and drank the blood of young women, while culling the old and using their carcasses as nests for children that would be born¡­ and destroy the tribe entire before wading back into the waters where their parents waited.


    They were beyond the mountains, beyond protections left behind by our ancestors, and they ruled the world entire. Crippled and broken, a fraction of their might when they broke the world apart, they still remained dominant. Our lands were divided, filled with warlords, and the greatest nation wished for no rival nation to rise to fight against them.


    Soon, those protections will fail, and we will be consumed by the rest of the world and our conquerors will rule over it all.


    As a child, I realized that all was lost and I despaired.


    Shrouded in that despair, I followed the paths laid out for me, which my ¡®instincts¡¯ told me to follow. My dreams, the faint impressions in my mind, and sensations within me all coalesced into a single path.


    Do as my father bid and grow strong.


    Learn how to read, how to analyze, and how to understand.


    Gain insight into others, become someone who can lead, and gather information.


    Step by step, I followed a singular path forward with a singular hope: that in time I may survive and create some sort of haven for those who were not monsters.


    Then, suddenly, he arrived.


    ¡­


    I waited as war was waged around me, conserving my strength, waiting for the singular moment that all my senses told me would come.


    All around me were allies and foes.


    Fifty strides in front of me there is a young man covered in armor and wielding a pike. His breathing is  hard. This morning, he lied to his officers of his readiness. He favored his left leg and right arm. The stab wounds inflicted on him yesterday still plagued him. However, his training and his allies will see him through. Those by his side realized this already. They are brothers born of shared suffering and of shared victories. If he falls, he will be dragged back and saved, and until then all will be well.


    One hundred and fifty lengths behind me, was the constant din of rifles loading and unloading. Their guns were a constant staccato filling the air and their shots broke apart the enemy and prevented them from massing. Every time they fired; they expended three days of tax revenue generated by a small town. Without the ability of the Citadels to produce the chemical agents for the explosives within each bullet, the cost would be four days of tax revenue from a whole region. Within five months, the first factory capable of producing smokeless powder will be fully constructed. Those who work there will have a life expectancy ten years shorter than those working in any other field. Their sacrifice will free up significant space in the Citadels manufacturing centers for all four regions.


    Mages were three hundred lengths from my position. They are a rising noble class carefully watched by Khanrow and other agents. Time and time again throughout Descendant history, those with magical gifts form a political bloc which in time will resent not being in rule and become the heart of a rebellion. Approximately fifteen mages will be moved to other postings, five will meet ¡®accidental¡¯ deaths, and three will be judged loyal enough to act as informants. Their respect of the King of Wisdom will persist through this generation. Their children, raised by our state and trained in our schools, will be truly loyal, and he will be worshipped.


    My foes are Undead.


    The masses of skeletons wielding makeshift weapons are mindless constructs without reason or will. They are weapons meant to fill the field with chaff. Breaking enough of their body will make them come apart and become undone. Shattering ten percent of their total bone mass is sufficient to kill them. One shot from a rifle, or a thrust from a spear, destroys one. There are tens of thousands, and any other force in the continent would already have lost against them alone. No other nation has the manpower necessary, the supplies needed, or the correct tactics.


    The skeletons are supplemented by animated corpses, ghouls, and undead giants. Many of the corpses are those of animals. They are swift and with poisoned bites and claws. Armor is sufficient to counter them and they are dealt with swiftly. Ghouls cause the highest of wounds. They regenerate and threaten to break lines. Sharpshooters instructed to find and kill them have greatly lowered their lethality. Mages kill the giants and take out massed formations.


    My forces can last two days before fatigue causes causalities.


    Three days before routing with hundred dead and thousands injured.


    He will make us retreat within one day, if progress is not as expected, to conserve strength for battles years in the future.


    Progress is as expected.


    My target is before me.


    The creation of the Death Lord is a creature composed of more than ten thousand corpses. Born from a pit where thousands were melted down, their souls used as fuel, and necromancy was used on the still living to warp and mutate flesh. Any semblance of humanity died in the pit, as so many beings were tortured and broken apart, meshed, and turned into base instincts for the body composed of dead that they were to inhabit. Its purpose is to cause suffering, to raise the dead as endless armies, and to kill all that the Death Lord bid it to kill.


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    It does so under the promise that its suffering will end, if it does its duty.


    It is a massive creature nearly thirty adult Descendants tall. Rather than a humanoid form, it is closer to a snail with the upper torso for a giant humanoid being at the prow. Its main body is a massive mound of writhing flesh and bone held together by immense ribs forming a cage. The main body pulsates and beats like a heart, straining against its cage of bone, and it gathers power within itself. I can feel it harnessing and channeling magic like a great vortex. Over three quarters of its mass is dedicated towards containing that power within that mass.


    Its main weapon, its main ability, is to create vast armies of undead.


    The giant humanoid torso stuck to its front is a secondary means of protection.


    Therefore, attacking it would be foolish.


    Whatever it had as a brain in the massive skull that it showed, whatever heart it had, was just to attract attention.


    The most protected part of it was what it used to store energy and cast magics, therefore somewhere in all that mass must also be its true weak spots.


    Hidden behind lengths and lengths of bone and reinforced muscle, rather protruding in an ungainly manner from the front.


    Familiar footsteps drew me from my thoughts.


    ¡°Ilych. Finished with the plan? Or do you need more time?¡± Conquest spoke. Leader of a commando unit, she has grown in strength with all the battles she has fought since her people were integrated with ours. Tribal bands now adorn her wrists and ankles. She will be able to project her magics from her limbs with ease, now. On her back is a large rifle of Ancient construction, two knives are at her waist the size of small swords for Descendants, and a one-handed hangs off her hip as well. She notices my analysis and lowers her head in a small nod. She has acknowledged my strength. ¡°My soldiers are ready to strike.¡±


    I nodded and measured the distance from our point and the approaching titan.


    Then, I shook my head.


    ¡°A half hour more. I can¡¯t afford you to reach it exhausted. Too high of a risk.¡± Conquest frowned at my words. I am insufficient as a leader. He would¡¯ve been able to convince her to stay back with just a few words. She would have nodded and assented without complaint. I needed to be more like him here and now. What is causing their dissatisfaction? The answer came in but a few heartbeats as my mind connected points together and created a framework for an answer. ¡°Tell them that they can provide fire support against the enemy, but to keep their legs fresh and satchels ready. Their melee weapons, too.¡±


    Conquest¡¯s frown faded at my words, and she nodded.


    ¡°Right, let¡¯s put those cannons to use. They won¡¯t be much help after our charge anyway. Have you found where we¡¯ll be concentrating our fire?¡±


    I nodded and verified.


    The attacks from the front. Though it is a secondary weapon, the protruding torso from the front of the true threat remained strong. It will sweep at us with its massive limbs and disrupt our formation. Too many will be lost in the charge. Despite its slow movement, it can rotate in place speedily, so that it¡¯s ¡®front¡¯ can be angled to engage the from one direction. The best course of action is to attack as a pincer, with a sufficiently distracting force engaging the secondary weapons, while another attacks from the opposite angle.


    There are many things that can go wrong.


    Conquest and her people could die charging forth under my command.


    I could fail, then the creature can focus on Conquest and her commandos.


    The creature can ignore us and head for our center line and kill our troops.


    Even if we kill it, the troops we lose will weaken us for the battles to come.


    There was only one option.


    ¡°I will confront it head on. Conquest, you focus on destroying its main body, the shell.¡± I listened to my senses. My instincts were screaming at me. My mind filled with scenarios and visions and phantom pains reverberated through my whole body. I felt the creature taking hold of me and crushing my limbs, before slamming me into the ground. I felt it harness its power and blast me apart with pure power. I felt it swing at me, catch me, and send me hurtling into the sky to crash far into the horizon to slowly bleed out and die. In but a moment, I died eighteen times, until found that singular path where I stood victorious.  ¡°Keep your distance, and strike when the opportunity arises.¡±


    ¡°Aye, Sword of Wisdom, we will heed your words.¡±


    I willed my helm to envelope me, before launching myself forward into the fray towards the great beast.


    ¡­


    It was a tenth faster than my senses suggested, twice as frenzied when under attack, and with the intellect of an intelligent prey animal rather than a predator.


    Meaning the fight was more difficult than expected.


    The moment I arrived, a roar echoed through the air and it drew its thralls towards itself and me. The army, turning its back on our own, was rapidly being destroyed because of its action. However, my forces will not pursue. I ordered them not to, even if the enemy did such a thing. The were needed for other battles.


    It valued its life and not that of its creations.


    Every swing of its long limbs, smashed apart hundreds of its Undead forces, which themselves cared not for their creator destroying them. Packs of Undead animals hounded me, while skeletons and corpses tried to grab me or cut through my armor, while undead giants and ghouls tried to kill me.


    Every step I took.


    If I leapt, I will be unable to dodge in the air. I must stay low and find a gap between my foes.


    Every place I chose to move towards.


    If I go to that clearing, I will be confronted by a giant. I must not let that happen.


    Every swing of my sword.


    If I attack and kill the enemy in front of me, I will be slowed and surrounded, then struck down.


    Every thought that I had.


    If I only evade, the monster will notice the others. I must also find a way to attack.


    Everything had to be measured, weighed, and carefully chosen.


    The abominable creature swung its limbs like a long rod across the battlefield and flung its creatures in every direction. The shrapnel produced was nothing to me, but enough flying mass could mess with my movements. When it brought up both its arms and slammed them into the ground, it cracked the ground, and sent earth flying in every direction. It robbed me of my vision by doing so.  The sound of earth following and the swings of arms muffled my hearing. It was directing its creatures with its sight, high above the battlefield, and they swarmed my last location that it saw no matter the condition of the battlefield.


    It was sacrificing its army.


    It was doing everything it can to survive.


    It was aiming to kill me.


    But it wasn¡¯t running, because it knew we could catch it, so it stayed and fought and tried to kill me.


    That meant that this remained a battle we could win.


    I ran, I was chased, and I fought.


    My sword swung, killing dozens of chaff or bisecting a giant, while I fled deeper into the masses of enemies. The training given to the army at my back came into play. They remained in place, but the ranged attackers came forward to support. Officers kept their mission in mind, while staying within the boundaries of the orders they were given, and the swarm surrounding me faded. As their attacks continued to hit, the abomination kept swinging and killing its troops, as I ran through its army and attacked it when I could.


    Soon, two dozen Undead turned into ten, then five, and then just a few sparsely impeded me.


    My enemies no longer surrounded me.


    So many paths to my death were gone.


    I could now do more than just survive.


    I empowered myself, and charged straight at the enemy, and plunged my sword where the protruding humanoid torso was latched to the true body of the beast. It felt like plunging my sword into a boulder, but with my strength and the blade¡¯s power after feasting on so much blood, I pierced through the creature¡­ and swung my blade.


    Instantly, after the cut cracked the supporting section, the abomination steadied itself by gripping the ground with one of its limbs¡­ and the other surged towards me.


    It would reach me before I recovered my swing.


    So, I leapt up and landed on its wrist, before swinging once more at the portion of the beast connecting the two halves together.


    It is not a weakness.


    The prow of the creature is a frontal weapon and a distraction. The true threat is the portion that is well armored and capable of casting magic. The true mind of the creature is there as well, along with any other important portions.


    I am playing into its hand, seeking to strike down the false portion of it, and giving it the opening to counterattack.


    My second cut landed the humanoid portion was forced to support itself with both its limbs, to prevent it from falling forward.


    Like a man awaiting execution, it bared its nape for a strike, bowed whilst holding itself up with both hands.


    I foresaw this moment. My instincts warned me of this moment. Pain from a dozen deaths told me that if leapt upward and aimed to cut off the skull, I would die.


    But the skull needed to be cut, for the shell to open.


    For Conquest and her people to be able to throw their explosives within the opened shell and kill it.


    Thankfully, I asked Rita to show me how to attack from afar many times over, and the skull needed only to be cut off for the shell to open.


    I landed on the ground, took firm hold of my blade, and aimed at the neck of the creature, while filling my body with power. I went past my limits. I felt my bones creak and crack, my muscles tear, and my heart screamed with pain as I forced it to push. Something in my head threatened to break, and I could feel blood burst from my nose and my vision blurred with the tint of red.


    However, I didn¡¯t die, and I gathered what power I needed.


    I threw my blade upward, like a spinning disc of black steel it arced through the air and cut through the neck of the creature and removed its head.


    The shell, then, immediately began to open to try and cast magics to kill all its immediate vicinity and make them its new thralls.


    I focused on healing myself, as I heard Conquest¡¯s war cry, and knew that they would do their duty.


    The battle was over, and I would rest until the next.

 V7: Chapter 14

    V7: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    Ilych¡¯s mission report came and I let myself breathe a little easier.


    It¡¯s always a gamble to send in just two Champions to kill the Legion Amalgam without whittling it and its forces down. Ideally, if you¡¯re tackling it alone, you¡¯d encircle it, attack it with supplementary armies without Champion, and whittle it down with long range fire and kill its army while depleting its stores of energy. Rinse and repeat until you can throw in your main force, so that they main force gets the massive experience payout, while the supplementary armies enjoy some veterancy ranks.


    However, I¡¯ll take a few hundred dead and a thousand injured out of ten thousand or so troops, in exchange for that thing¡¯s death.


    Especially since we were now in sight of the Death Lord¡¯s main city.


    Which was already on fire, besieged, and being pummeled into ash.


    ¡°Good news, my king?¡± Riegert linked up with me after arriving with our flying fortress. The front prow was cratered and blasted from a pure white. However, the layers and layers of magically resistant defenses did their duty. It accomplished its mission, though. It disgorged the frozen Guardians in its hold on the enemy city and the Conquerors inside followed after the tide of sentient, nigh-indestructible blades. In short, it did as I wanted and unleashed a terror mission on the city for the Death Lord to deal with. Conquerors were the bruisers with big guns, while the Guardians were the skittering, rapid fiends that cut just about anything apart. The ship now loomed over the city, the mages on it firing down, while the army ravaged it. ¡°Did Ilych complete her mission?¡±


    ¡°Yep, she did. She¡¯s already recovered thanks to finding some monsters to kill, too.¡± Undead didn¡¯t trigger the regeneration ability that her equipment gave her. By my estimations of her level and equipment loadout, though, she should¡¯ve been able to kill it even without it, since she reached the final stages of both her armor and blade and has been growing in power steadily since I met her. She¡¯s probably midway through her skill tree now. ¡°She¡¯s taking it slow with her army. She¡¯ll be here in three or four weeks.¡±


    ¡°Not sending a transport to bring her in to kill the Death Lord? How kind of you.¡±


    ¡°As strong as Ilych is, even she has limits. Killing a titanic creature from myth warrants a few easy weeks of marching.¡± And, besides that, Morgan and Rita needed some experience points, too. Can¡¯t put all my eggs in one basket and just dump all the experience on Ilych. That wasn¡¯t a risk that I wanted. I didn¡¯t expect Riegert to understand the mechanics of RPG experience systems, though. His brain wasn¡¯t so rotten that it transferred between lives. ¡°The plan¡¯s already in place, too. We¡¯re moving in, so any changes will just confuse everyone.¡±


    The Ancient tower that the Death Lord used now presided over a ramshackle city covered in flame, being bombarded by Celica¡¯s familiar-based artillery system, ravaged by my paratroops, and being breached by my main army linked up with the Wardens. It was a massive mess, a blackened, burning city being invaded by four armies at the same time with different strategies, methods of fighting, and with messengers and signaling flags as the primary means of communication.


    Bringing in more troops sounded good on paper, especially as the remaining forces of the Death Lord dug in and the Death Lord was fighting for its own life, but doing so would only make the mess worse. Sacking a city was a lot less dangerous when your opponent doesn¡¯t have guns. In fact, it was closer to sending in armed troops with shot and cannon to put down mobs melee weapons, but that didn¡¯t mean it was easy.


    This was already a massive shitshow, so we made sure to not throw everything in the city.


    ¡°Well, then, if that¡¯s all I¡¯d like to head on it. I¡¯ve never sacked a city before.¡± Riegert nodded and I gave a nod in turn. I looked him over. Riegert of the Holy Axe had been known as an ¡°XP Dumpster,¡± but a Champion is a Champion, so I went ahead and sent him to discover things, kill shit, and generally just level up. Before he just relied on his enhanced physique and magic to weather attacks, but now he was fully armored from head to toe and even had a stylized bull helmet to put on. Instead of being some meathead barbarian on a horse with a fuck-off, huge axe, he was now closer to a main battle tank in terms of deadliness. Maybe even deadlier. ¡°Unless you need me for something?¡±


    ¡°No. Go ahead. Make sure Khalai and his people don¡¯t charge too far forward too quickly.¡± The Wardens were as zealous as I feared. Erlan went as far as to complain about them. The dude barely talked about his people literally leaving him to die on the vine, yet the Dark Elves¡¯ irritated him enough for him to complain. If that wasn¡¯t enough, most of my officer corps were sending complaints, too. There weren¡¯t any casualties because of it yet, the Wardens were skilled enough to make sure of that, but close calls were still hard on morale and deteriorated unit cohesion. Riegert, with his pedigree of leading a warband and his unit specialization as a Tier 1 unit booster and army general, pretty much made him the best person to send in. ¡°Once you¡¯ve engaged the defenders at the base of the tower, Morgan, Rita, and whoever the Guardians want to send will swoop in and kill the Death Lord. Don¡¯t stop Sirena if she wants to join them, but we can¡¯t afford to lose Khalai. He¡¯s their leader, even if he¡¯s acting like some sort of paladin on the front.¡±


    Riegert looked like he was waiting for more information, but I just shook my head.


    ¡°Just keep it simple. Coordinating in there will be a massive mess. Keep the primary objective in mind, and advance while killing anything that¡¯s the enemy if you¡¯re not sure what to do.¡±


    ¡°As you wish, my king.¡± Riegert laughed lightly, before using his spurs to urge his armored warhorse forward. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to corral the fanatics and not let them take my head.¡±


    I had to resist rolling my eyes.


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    ¡°Tell them that they can have the corpse to burn or seal or whatever else they want to do with it. That should help.¡±


    Riegert looked surprised at a moment, before grinning and donning his helmet.


    Moments later he was followed by his personal retinue into battle with his scarlet banner flying behind him and his troops.


    In another life, if I was ridiculously overpowered and knew I could take on most people on the planet in a fight, I¡¯d be jealous of him looking so cool riding forth to sack a city.


    Right now, though?


    I just wanted everything to be over, so I can start preparing for the next war.


    This is all a life-changing, history-making event for all of you¡­ but this is just the tutorial, guys.


    The sooner we finish it the sooner we can get on with the midgame and start ramping up.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    He called the operation chaos, worried about adding more troops, yet the sacking of the Death Lord¡¯s city was brutal and efficient.


    Buildings and fortifications were levelled at our approach.


    Magic from the enemy was repelled.


    We marched over the meagre formations of the enemy and slit throats like butchers, rather than soldiers.


    I had looked upon the fortified city from above with trepidation.


    Layered trenches and palisades had surrounded it. Every road had barricades manned by soldiers. Undead flowed like water from the Death Lord¡¯s tower to oppose its foes, while its magics lashed out at all. Even from above, the Death Lord¡¯s bastion looked like a black tumor covered in spikes and flowing with undead pus.


    Then, the Guardians fell upon the city and destroyed any organized resistance in an instant, leaving us to clean it up.


    ¡°Cluster of Undead up ahead!¡± A single officer called out, and the command reverberated through the whole column walking through the city road. The buildings around us, made of wood and carved stone, were now rubble. Rubble that was carefully watched by passing soldiers until Mages could arrive and pierce it through with spells from top to bottom to ensure nothing within the ruins lived. ¡°Hold march!¡±


    ¡°Hold march!¡± Was repeated amongst the men as they stopped, until the whole column stretching several of the city¡¯s blocks, stopped completely. ¡°Hold march!¡±


    In less than a minute, we were still with non from behind us forcing us forward.


    ¡°Permission to engage, sir?¡± The officer of this portion of the army went by the name Bartholomew. I hadn¡¯t seen his face yet. He always wore his helmet, barely pulling up his visor. ¡°Or, do you have other¡ª


    ¡°Aye, I do. Let me take care of this and keep an eye out for anything strange. We need you fresh to take the tower.¡± I spoke casually, but the overbearing nature of the spire became more and more apparent as I got closer. It was just a raised Ancient tower, most of which were used to observe the perimeter of a region in our lands. However, the Death Lord changed it to suit its goals. It was covered in writhing, undead flesh and bone. Baleful yellow eyes were all over it as well, staring in every direction, as if attempting to see the battlefield entirely. It was like our own surveillance system in a way, but not manned by Iterants and not nearly as effective. ¡°I¡¯ll take these on.¡±


    Bartholomew nodded once, before gesturing at the front and giving a whistle.


    The frontmost troops parted in an orderly fashion, like a gate rather than a line of armored soldiers five men deep and ten across.


    ¡°Use your flare if you need assistance, sir. Otherwise, we¡¯ll wait until you clear the path.¡±


    Some part of me missed the reverence and the prestige, but I¡¯d rather be treated like a fool then be rid of the discipline and the strength of the new generation.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do that, lad. Don¡¯t worry. We won¡¯t take long. Just keep an eye on the sky for any attacks and repel them.¡± Handing my reigns to him, I dismounted and stretched my legs for a moment, before heading onward towards the Undead ahead. Six or so giant Undead from various species, multitudes of ghouls, and dozens upon dozens of skeletons and animated corpses. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a moment.¡±


    With that shared, I focused on the enemy, and charged forward with all the strength my renewed youth and all my new training gave me.


    The frontline of the enemy collapsed instantly against me.


    Bone and flesh came apart, as I covered myself in rippling power, as knights would atop their steeds. I had no need for a steed, given the strength given to me by the circumstances of my birth. As a Champion, I tore straight through the enemy with a singular charge, not even swinging my sword, and rid myself of over a third of the enemy combatants in an instant.


    Before they could react, before they realized that a third of them number was dead, and before they realized I that I had crossed the length between my army and them just a few heartbeats¡­ I swung my weapon with all my strength. A weapon imbued with the magics composed by the Ancients to harm their greatest foes, and the masses of their Undead soldiers that were turned against them.


    A crescent streak of light flew forth from my axe. I felt the familiar loss of power in my gut, like something just vanished from my body. However, ever since my rejuvenation, the loss of power was but a fraction of a fraction of what it used to be. It was better than being young. I retained all my methods of conserving power, as well as all my skill and knowledge in making my attack better, while also gaining my youthful body.


    I was not restored to my prime.


    I was made the best that I could be.


    The slash¡¯s ends carved a path through buildings and bisected all in its path. Through the whole cluster of foes, my attack went forth and destroyed all. Skeletons and animated corpses came apart, ghouls died and tried to cling to life before dying trying to crawl to the nearest source of living flesh, and the giants all lost their legs at once and crashed down.


    Swiftly, I went to each one, and killed them by carving their heads from their torsos.


    Then, I returned to Bartholomew, who was waiting for me with my horse.


    I hopped back onto the saddle without a bit of blood on my person.


    ¡°You¡¯re stronger than I anticipated. Why are you not with the team going forth to kill the Death Lord?¡±


    ¡°You question your king¡¯s orders? How dangerous.¡± I teased the young office back, but received a blank stare in return. The silence made me clear my throat and lose what was left my good mood after devastating a hundred foes so swiftly. ¡°I am here because I specialize in leading armies and fighting against armies. Those going forth are potent killers. Not all Champions are alike.¡±


    ¡°I see. Thank you for telling me.¡± The young officer nodded, and gave a whistle. A trumpeter gave two blasts of a horn and soon enough we were at a march, the column moving through the battlefield quietly. No cheering. No accolades. Just acceptance that I did my duty and accomplished what I said that I would do. Refreshing. ¡°I¡¯ll rely on you to do that again, but tell me if you need rest. I will do my utmost to conserve the strength and lives of my men.¡±


    I nodded and readied myself to begin the slow, careful march through the ruined city once more.


    Steel-hearted, stern-gazed, and when confronted with Undead monstrosities¡­ there was caution, not outright fear and panic.


    Sometimes, I believed the Jack was too cautious with his troops and that he ought to use them more aggressively.


    Then, I realize the simple fact that men such as Captain Bartholomew would not be without such caution.


    Just a few years ago, these were all young men eager to ride out for glory and prestige.


    Now, nearly one and all, they were veterans that waged war that looked upon Champions as assets to be deployed and monsters as enemies to be killed as efficiently as possible.


    These are the soldiers we¡¯ll need for the horrors to come.

 V7: Epilogue

    V7: Epilogue


    ¡­


    Interlude: Deathmarked


    ¡­


    We did not wish for glory.


    We did not wish for power.


    We did not wish for riches.


    We wished to live.


    In the shadow of the great towers that arose in all corners of the world, we wished to live.


    But we were denied that right¡­ and I understood why.


    We fought and hunted them in their villages and in their lands. We took the rich forests and ancient keeps of their ancestors. We took all that we could from them for countless generations. In all the songs and all the stories of our elders, we roamed from land to land, planting what we took, and plundering when we did not have enough. The settled tribes were a foe to be bested for tools, for mates, and for servants.


    Uncountable numbers of seasons passed as such, with us doing as we and our ancestors did, until the great towers arose and brought an end to it all.


    So many generations of plundering and taking were being repaid unto us now.


    Our former foes were now our destroyers and we now struggled to live just a moment longer.


    ¡­


    The sound of thunder was constant in the distance and quickly approaching.


    I looked around at the ruin that was our last bastion.


    My soldiers were whole, but their minds were beaten. Ears were flat against skulls. Tails tucked. Their eyes were sharp and they stood fast, manning positions behind makeshift heavy weapons and scavenged equipment from the few fallen of our foes. Our supplies were limited to no more than a days worth of meals for us all, but we wouldn¡¯t last that long.


    I saw it.


    The banner of a crow in the distance. One claw holding arrows and the other a scroll. Its wings were outstretched and beak open in a silent screech of victory. Silver threads on a blue banner lined with gold.


    I knew our end was near.


    We fought against the Wardens. Their blood ran wild in battle and they cared not for death. They were quick, effective, and powerful warriors herded towards the enemy. Not soldiers. We faced them on equal terms, and we could find victory after defeating them, then retreating before their shamans arrived.


    We fought against the Guardians. They marshalled Undead against us, many armed with firearms, but theirs were weaker and lacked accuracy. We hid and flanked them, destroying them before they could fire, and seized many of their weapons and turned it against them. We only had to run when their finest warriors arrived, covered in the spirits of the fallen and in darkness, as they charged upon Undead steeds that felt no fear.


    Against both we could run away, regroup, harry them, and buy time.


    But the force that approached us was beyond both.


    Against them we could only break.


    Many tribes were under the King of Wisdom¡¯s banner and their strengths were brought to bear, as their weaknesses were extinguished. The Descendants covered themselves in thick armor and stood side by side and trained themselves to quickly respond with flame and pike. Ambushing them only allowed them to fire in every direction. The few Children of the Elm amongst them were scouts that heralded disaster and were scarcely seen, while none who met their Conquerors lived to tell the tale. In but a few months, they also accepted soldiers of the Forgers, and made their frontline near impenetrable.


    Their shamans were defended and far from battle. They saw through long lenses and fired magics upon buildings and cleared the way. Even large piles of rubble were heated until molten. They advanced upon us slowly, but steadily. Hundreds of Undead sent to slow them only died, wasted, no matter the number nor kind that was sent. The constant crack of gunfire, the constant push and pull of pikes, the rise and fall of hammers, while magic fired from above¡­ it was almost impossible to surmount.


    We could¡¯ve slowed their step, diverting the strength of their might for a few days, but they had unleashed horror upon us from their flying castle.


    I still remembered it.


    Shards of pure white metal with four legs and two arms all composed of blades. They fell from the sky covered in ice and came alive once they hit the ground and it shattered. For less than an hour, they had been active, but that was all they had needed. Our defenses were cut apart into ribbons, barricades undone as they skittered alongside walls and leapt at us, and so many died leaving only mincemeat studded with bone and viscera. The streets were filled with blood and bone, so many died in that singular moment, only for Conquerors to use the moment to blow apart the gates and let the armies outside enter without even having to contend against our walls.


    That was just two days ago.


    Now they were at the foot of our tower and approaching¡­ with their general at their front.


    A shiver went down my spine as my destiny met my gaze and beckoned for me to come forward.


    I rose and ignored the cacophony of questioning voices aimed my way.


    All except one.


    My daughter took hold of my hand and tried to hold me back.


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    Half her head was covered in clean bandage, her eye lost in the fighting, yet she still stood ready to fight alongside me and the rest of our tribe. We were the Deathmarked, chosen by our last and only hope to survive against the reprisals against our people, and so we did not retreat or surrender. On every hill, in every forest, and every mountain  pass, we fought against the armies that threatened our lord.


    So, I went forth with our banner in hand to meet the general of the King of Wisdom whose power dwarfed my own completely.


    Plain and without gold or carvings, the armor the general wore was stout and strong with overlapping plates and armor in many weaknesses. Those of the Academy, our now dead foes, had armor rich in luster and riches, but had weaknesses at the neck, armpits, and back of the legs. The one worn by the massive general before me lacked all those weaknesses, and I was sure that I would find none no matter where I looked.


    The axe on he held was as long as I was tall and rippled with power. He held it like a toy with one hand, as he took off his fearsome, horned helmet with a gauntleted hand.


    At first, I thought I was beaten by a young man in his prime, until I looked into his eyes.


    No, I realized the truth when I looked into eyes like that of the wisest sages.


    Everlasting youth was granted to a warrior with more years in combat than I have lived.


    ¡°I see you¡¯re still armed. To the death, then, chieftain?¡± He spoke our tongue with difficulty. Descendants struggled to speak as we did. However, he made do, and I understood him clearly. ¡°Don¡¯t you wish to spare your people this struggle? There is no glory here.¡±


    He stated his truth, his view, and I stated mine.


    ¡°Nay, there is glory to be had. Our people have surrendered, but they will hear and listen that their most valiant fought to the very end.¡± We had watched as our people were accepted and as they were flown away. They knelt and their lives were spared. It was a cruel mercy. Our ways and lives were lost forever, and they were to pay for the actions of our ancestors for the rest of their lives. Many of those too weak to fight nearly took their lives knowing their fate as pets and playthings for the conquerors. Only the words of elders, who admonished them, stopped them from doing so. We had done the same to them, and many of them did not end their lives, but instead struggled. ¡°We are warriors and we deserve the deaths of warriors. By the blade, not by the whip or fatigue or starvation.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s death by battle you seek, there are the foes this army is meant to fight. They are beyond strength. So, we seek all that we can find.¡± The general spoke seriously. His voice was light and throat dull. The words and speech of our people did not come forth well from his tongue. He had no snout and muzzle and his face bereft of fur. His scent was of metal and oil without a hint of nature. He was a Descendant through and through. But his words. I could hear no lie. ¡°You must believe we do this out of hate. That we strike against your attempt to make a kingdom of your own. That is not true. We do this because we need all that we can muster to fight a greater threat. Threats that treat us and your peoples beyond the mountains as slaves and meat.¡±


    A thought.


    No, it was more a dream, as flittered in the back of my mind.


    Surrender and accept to fight these future foes of the King of Wisdom.


    To fight and die against the threats so feared by this general who I can never surmount.


    Then, as quickly as I considered it, the dream vanished.


    That would still be surrender.


    ¡°Then, let this be the day I and those with me prove the worth of my people who have already surrendered. This day when we cross blades shall be the moment where I prove my people are not cowards and are worthy warriors all.¡± I spoke, and the general closed his eyes and nodded with deep regret. He fastened his helm and met my gaze. Through the visor of the helmet, I could not see his eyes. I saw only the implacable assurance of death. ¡°I die here today along with my warriors, but I ask of you to witness us, general of the King of Wisdom. Witness us and see the worth of the people you have taken.¡±


    With a clenched fist pressed against his heart, he spoke through his helm.


    ¡°I swear it on the souls of my ancestors. I will witness you and your people, chieftain.¡±


    With that said, he turned away back to his troops, and I did the same knowing full well that I would not be struck down as he did.


    Today we fight, and today we die to prove the worth of our people.


    ¡­


    We were met with the absolute strength of the King of Wisdom¡¯s forces.


    A new tactic made specifically to allow for their forces to function properly in a city¡¯s confines.


    The Forgers were held back, and we faced the pikes and firearms of the enemy head-on. Standing shoulder to shoulder, our position was assaulted by armored men presenting a wall of pikes, and between them came forth the sharp cracks of rifles. In the wind, we smelled Conquerors moving to flank us, led by Children of the Elm guides through the rubble of the city. The Conquerors, meanwhile, waited for the chance to charge alongside the general and break us completely.


    Our doom came forth, however, from the mages we could not even see.


    From afar came not balls of flame, nor strikes of lighting, but lances of light that broke apart our meagre fortifications and superheated stone. Any caught by the attack blew apart, their bodies bursting instantly as they were overwhelmed with heat and their bodies came apart unable to hold fast. Then, as those opening salvos finished, above us formed liquid earth and quagmires of mud formed at our feet and weighed us down. Then, flashes of light and crackling noise bombarded our forces.


    Struck with magic, then slowed, blinded, and deafened.


    We could barely react, let alone put up an active defense, against the coming tide.


    Our shamans died the moment they tried to cast counterspells let alone unmake the magics that struck us. The best of our warriors were cut down or swung wildly at foes still too far from their reach. Our few firearms that functioned after the deluge of mud discharged into nothingness, or own soldiers, and they were impossible to reload with the constant din of noise and blinding light.


    I barely saw or felt the enemy arrive, I only smelled the scent of steel in the air, and then everything came undone with the constant, sure fire of all the rifles aimed our way.


    The scent of blood blossomed all around me, overcoming even the stench of gunpowder and mud. Burnt fur, undone viscera, and the scent of powdered bone filled my nose. While we were blinded, deafened, and slowed to a crawl, they were not. They saw us in our ruined cover, and they fired, they advanced with their pikes, and they killed us.


    When the constant magic ended, when we could see, over half of us were already dead.


    My daughter amongst them.


    But, still, as soon as I could see, as soon as I could fight, I roared and dragged our banner out of the mud.


    My heart sang and leapt as the roars of the last remaining warriors roared beside me and charged with me.


    We were ready to die against the pikes, against the rifles, but such was not to be.


    Two horns rang out, and with mechanical uniformity, the pikes and shots retreated and divided in half.


    Allowing the general and the Forgers at the back to charge forward and meet us.


    The King of Wisdom¡¯s banner was at their back, while our own flew in my hand.


    I hoped it was enough.


    In the face of their greatest strategy, we lost half our number, but still we rallied and fought.


    In the face of their overwhelming cunning, we lost our eyes, ears, and ability to move, but we still rallied and fought.


    In the face of sheer strength and power, with half our number, we held our banner high and charged forward to kill our foes.


    I hoped dearly that it was enough, as the general reached me and raised his axe, and with a singular strike cut me in twain while the Forgers rushed past us to bring the rest of my warriors low.


    He loomed over me, kneeling by my side, and I could sense sorrow and frustration both behind his helmet.


    ¡°Farwell, last chieftain, die well knowing your people have not been found wanting.¡±


    His words reached me, and what I had left clinging to life loosened, and soothing darkness began to overtake me.


    My last sight was him taking my banner from my hand and planting it beside where I lay, straight into stone.


    A marker for me and all my warriors to ensure we were remembered.

 V8: Chapter 1

    V8: Chapter 1


    ¡­


    The Deathlord was an administrative Champion with some support powers, so once Rita, Morgan, Sirena, and Celia got to him, he was finished. Four combat Champions against a guy that''s basically hyper-specialized to produce Undead?


    Yeah.


    Moot point.


    Guy could''ve wiped the floor with me, though.


    The Death Lord''s throne room was covered in battle damage. There was a carpet of bone and body parts of many shapes and sizes all around us. The tower was filled with them, as the four stormed the whole thing in just under three hours. Celia''s honor guard of half-Vampire knights handled most of the chaff, while the four of them engaged any elites.  According to them, though, their only true opponent was the Death Lord in its place of power.


    The air was filled with the lingering aftereffects of strong magic, which was similar to static electricity and a strong humidity. Though the eyes saw nothing, to the sixth sense, there was something close to an electrified fog in every direction. That alone signaled some serious firepower and spells were used during the battle, though the fact that the whole roof of the tower was gone made that apparent already.


    Massive gouges lined the remaining walls and floors. Made of Ancient Materials, since the tower was of Ancient construction, that made it clear to me that if I walked into the battle I''d have been pulped by some flying shrapnel or just popped by pressure waves or something along those lines. Squishy, non-Champion bodies around a Champion battle typically made those bodies turn into chunky salsa.


    There were whole meme threads about random soldiers trying to help their allied champion and just turning into red mist from the shock wave of a sword swing.


    Anyway, as I expected, Morgan and Rita were staring at Sirena and Rita as they stared each other down over the Legendary Artifact dropped by the Death Lord.


    "You cannot be serious. This created Death Lords. Enslavers and destroyers of all mortals. It must be destroyed." Sirena and the Wardens had the faction option to destroy it for a massive boost in influence and a permanent perk for their whole nation in the form of an anti-Undead bonus. By destroying this, they gain 25% damage increase to all Undead and 25% damage decrease to all attacks rendered upon them by Undead. A pretty sweet upgrade, since there''s plenty of Undead in the late game. Chaff is chaff. "You fought against the creature, Lady Celia, so I hold you in high esteem. However, if you continue to insist on taking it and studying it, I must question your innocence!"


    "It is an artifact that created Death Lords. It must be studied. We must know how it functions, how it controls so many Undead, if only to protect ourselves against it in the future." The Guardians got a pretty sweet buff for their production if they got it and a decreased cost to all their units. A flat decrease of a hundred, if I recalled correctly. It used to be a percentage, but it got nerfed. Ten percent off to a couple of skeletons isn''t the same as ten percent off to a few dozen Liches. I''d fight pretty hard just for the increased production rate, though. "Artifacts such have this one have been cared for by my people and kept safe for centuries upon centuries."


    This conversation was going to keep going on, so I clapped my hands and got everyone''s attention.


    "Congratulations on defeating a legendary monster. Let''s celebrate before fighting over who''ll have what, shall we?" Ayah and Conquest were at my back, and Khalai was following with his entourage. He was thankfully sporting some robes that covered him up and offered him some protection. From the neck down, it was all pure white threads held together by a red sash. He was even wearing sandals. I''m so proud of him for being eighty-percent clothed. "Morgan, report."


    Morgan gave me a nod.


    "Death Lord''s dead, your majesty. Smashed it apart, sanctified its bone dust, and have the dust portioned out in multiple pouches. No movement at all." The Death Lord''s corpse had an event tied to it. Any option that didn''t involve pounding it into shards and separating the remains led to an event chain for a mediocre Champion that had ridiculously low loyalty and was practically just a way to restart the tutorial and curb stomp it for fun. Yeah, no. That''s a waste of time. "Will we still be handing it off?"


    "Yes. Best to be sure about this sort of thing." Morgan gestured for the transporters who followed my retinue up the tower to get to her. She started handing out the sealed containers. Scattered into the sea, thrown into a furnace, included in the foundation of a few buildings¡­ we were going to be creative with getting rid of the body. "Now, what''s this about an artifact?"


    Rita piped up.


    "Instead of a heart, the Death Lord had this artifact on the table." I feigned lack of knowledge. I already knew what it was. The glowing red orb that would''ve been in the skeletal ribcage was an homage to a certain MMORPG player with obscene stats and obscene luck. Smaller though. This one was the size of my fist, not a basketball. "We believe that placing it within the body of an individual with enough power and strength will create a Death Lord."


    I gave a nod.


    "Under whose control? The ones who place it in the newest body, or the ones who placed it in its last?" That information earned me a lot of looks from every direction. Morgan looked my way with wide eyes, probably putting it together. Rita seemed a bit confused, so I elucidated. "There was only one thing the Academy intended to do with their hold over the transportation system. They held it so that the armies of their Death Lord would be able to strike at us from underground."


    "The Academy lives?" Celia questioned with a furrowed brow. "Where?"


    I gave Morgan the green light to explain by nodding her way.


    I made my way behind the throne of the Death Lord and looked upon the rest of the world. The tower was about fifteen stories high. Pretty short in my opinion, but there was nothing taller than it until the mountain ranges that surrounded the Academy lands. Those were so far away that I couldn''t see them, too. Just lots of¡­ upturned land from all the battles and conflict going on. The tower''s base was a ruined pseudo-city, while beyond it was just an expanse of upturned mud, corpses, and entrenched positions.


    I looked up and the sky was cloudy.


    Damn, I can''t even take a break and enjoy a view.


    "It began when the Conquerors were laid low by a corrupting blade. We investigated the matter and found tales of a flying craft of Ancient make. Upon review of numerous watchtower records between the Citadel of the Conquerors and the last location of Crusher, we found evidence of the craft again and again." Morgan omitted a lot of details, but Conquest nodding along at her words was concrete evidence. "We determined that the corruption of the Conquerors was due to interference of an unknown group with access to Ancient artifacts of immense power who tried to take their Citadel as their own. While our armies marched towards this tower, we searched for the same signs, and found the transport along with the missing Academy forces and Champions shepherding the monsters to the Death Lord''s location."


    Celia broke the silence that formed after everyone slowed down to process the information.


    "The Academy was behind all of this?"


    "If I was in their shoes, I would''ve down the same. Distract the enemy with a massive crisis, then use a remaining professional force to seize a Citadel and entrench thereafter." I spoke up and gestured idly to our surrounding land. "It took four nations to get this far. Most of the continent''s military force. Imagine if the last remaining troops of the Academy struck at one of your Citadels while we were all here? None of you can mass produce Guardians and have them patrol your borders and territories."


    "They would''ve slaughtered their way into a Citadel and taken it¡­ so why have they not?" Celia''s stare bore a hole into me. "Where are they now, King of Wisdom?"


    I looked over at Morgan and she spoke again.


    "The Ancient Transportation network had a control node in a fortified structure, which was surrounded by their remaining force. Until that node was taken, their transport and command structure was out of reach due to a form of magic, so we assaulted it using the same weapons we used to curtail the population of monsters migrating towards the Death Lord." Great job downplaying the fact that we used powerful chemical weapons in order to gas thousands of people, Morgan. You''d make a really great politician. In fact, if I wasn''t so frightened of you, I''d be tempted to tell you everything and just dump the whole mess on your lap. Too bad you''re literally an end-game crisis, so I can''t trust you. "Once we killed the enemy and took control of the transportation system, we attacked the Ancient Transport. More than half of their command structure are dead, but former Headmaster survived due to the efforts of an Ancient weapon at its command, which is called the Wraith."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Surprisingly, Celia recognized the name.


    "Wraith. In our oldest records, there were studies and efforts to create an individual that can change between tangible and intangible. An individual who is both alive and a phantom." Nice. My ruse of hiding my knowledge from the past in books is being reinforced. I mean, oh no. The Guardians have some in-lore knowledge that I didn''t expect them to have. "It survived you because you had no knowledge of its weaknesses."


    "No. Unfortunately, I knew not of its weakness to fire, lighting, and holy magic at the time, though once I reported it our king provided the truth of the matter." Right, Morgan. Thanks for putting a target on my back. The Guardians now know that I know something that they thought was an ancient secret of theirs. How do I use that fact to my advantage? "I managed to strike the former Headmaster with a rock, though. It should''ve shattered the right side of his pelvis. Enough to kill him, if they don''t have medical attention."


    Celia was glaring at me again, but before I could make some bullshit up, Khalai spoke.


    "Then, the Academy created a Death Lord. This is enough to warrant us seeking their permanent destruction." He rarely acted as the High Justiciar of the Wardens, but when he did it usually revolved around situations like this one. I suppose that I shouldn''t be surprised. The guy was a hardcore zealot when he wasn''t playing around. "We will lend efforts towards their destruction. However, I believe that the matter of the artifact is a more pressing concern? Lady Celia, you cannot guarantee that using it or studying it will leave whatever is made shall be under your control. Not only that, but the last artifact the Academy gave brought ruin to the Conquerors. Do you wish to play with fate?"


    I half-thought that Celia would back down, but she shook her head and showed a surprising amount of spine.


    "I believe in my words still. No, in fact, I believe in them more now. What if the Academy''s remnants have more of these devices? We must find a way to counter all Death Lords that come forth and what greater means do we have to do that than their very hearts?" Celia stated, and Sirena frowned, but gave a nod of assent. The middling pressure between the Wardens and Guardians faded with their respective elite guards backing down. I decided against weighing in on the matter. If Celia did everything right, her people will be stronger. If she fucked up, she''ll lose people and open up a chance for me to take their lands. Either happened to be a good result for my country. "However, with the threat it poses, I wish to request a joint cooperative effort between your people and mine. A facility controlled by us both in these lands, which will be watched over by both our peoples."


    Khalai smiled at the words.


    "Perfect! We shall find the great weaknesses of our enemy and see any that arise in the future be destroyed by what we find from this artifact." Khalai approached the throne where the Death Lord controlled the tower and paused. Like most of the Undead flesh and magical material that clung to the tower, it was inert after the destruction of its master. "Now, then, Jackie¡­ is there anything else you want to tell us? Perhaps why you struck so hard and fast when you could''ve let us all wallow and contend with this threat while you grew strong?"


    Khalai smoldered in my general direction, and I studiously ignored him.


    I did know what he was talking about, though.


    "The latest of my expeditions into the rest of the world has returned. Besides the Demons and the undersea creatures, there is now a third faction¡­ one that will fight us in the skies." I looked at Ayah, and she bowed before handing out papers and scrolls to Celia and Khalai. Erlan was down below, and I wasn''t going to give it to him. The Merchants weren''t going to be able to do jack shit with it, so I didn''t bother. "Celia, your anti-air defenses are highly effective, but need to be supplemented. I want them, and you have need of anti-armor weapons. I propose an exchange. Khalai, the monsters we found are cannibals. Your people have need of armor and cannot fight as they normally do. We will exchange armor and weapons for specialists in those who can cure poison."


    "So long as you give them back, it should be fine." Khalai smiled. Why wouldn''t he accept the offer without one? Curing all forms of poison is a high-level miracle. That meant he''ll be sending capable priests and paladins my way, while also getting military equipment. He comes out of this smelling like roses. "I''m sure the soldiers will be quite happy with armor that doesn''t break after they perish."


    One down, but Celia was already shaking her head.


    "No. I refuse. Your immense sky fortress has little counter besides my own weapons. I will not hand them off to you for you to study and find weaknesses upon with such a threat hanging above us." Fighting a couple of wars and winning seems to have upped her confidence a fair bit. "You will never have them, so long as the Guardians are mine to rule."


    Just as I expected.


    A few more years and she''ll have the confidence to challenge us and we''ll take their Citadel peacefully.


    "Okay, then. That''s all I had to say for now. See you at the victory party."


    I gave them all a smile and walked out to get some rest before the big event.


    Death Lord is dead, the loot''s been handed out without the clan breaking up, and I''ve armored the Wardens so they don''t get eaten up.


    Good start to the next couple years of build up.


    ¡­


    Khalai and Sirena approached me, after Celia and Erlan left.


    The High Justiciar of the Wardens spoke bluntly.


    "Lady Celia has convinced the King of the Forgers to ally with her, as well as the Merchants. We plan to do the same."


    I turned over to Morgan and raised an eyebrow.


    "Didn''t you tell me that she planned on challenging us to a duel for her Citadel against all of ours?"


    Morgan shook her head and sighed.


    "Aye, she did, but it seems her people''s actions here emboldened her more than we believe. And, of course, you shamed the Merchants so thoroughly and took so much from them that they''d naturally look for a protector." Morgan considered the situation carefully, placing her chin between her forefinger and thumb. She looked like some sort of fantasy librarian or archivist, especially while next to Sirena, who was clad in some jewels and chains of precious metals and hardly anything else. "The Forgers know what they''ve sent forth to aid us and the fact you''ve kept them all alive. You''d have needed to use General Erlan and his troops like chaff, if you wished to stop them from allying with the Guardians. They see your acceptance of their detritus as intent to change them."


    All good evaluations of the current situation.


    "The Merchants will most likely betray this alliance after getting their Citadels upgraded and turtled up. The Forgers and Celia will probably use that as justification to put them down." Morgan blinked as I added onto her evaluation. Idly, I tapped the arm of the throne that the Death Lord had used. It was well-cushioned, surprisingly. Maybe, I should keep it? I tilted my head from side to side, considering possibilities. "It''ll be brief and bloody conflict. The Merchants can''t hope to hold on. They''re also too far for us to receive refugees from, sadly. That means we''ll need someone on the inside to shepherd them to safety. Do you wish to do so, Khalai?"


    I focused on Khalai¡­ who had a soft smile and smoldering eyes aimed my way.


    Somehow, I felt more in danger from that subtle set of glances than when he strides up to me in nothing but a see-through crop top and booty shorts.


    However, I refocused.


    "I was ready to tell you that I would refuse, and would rather join your people, but I see that you''ve thought much farther ahead than I. We would indeed save more lives by stepping into the brewing conflict." Khalai nodded, and Sirena did the same. Thankfully, some of the guards noticed that their leader was standing while I was sitting and provided him with a chair¡­ by getting on all fours. Their entire race exudes lewdness as naturally as they breathe. "But are you sure, Jackie? We might come out on top after everything, and we may have to fight in the future¡­ I wouldn''t want that to happen."


    Tanned Twink Translator Activate!


    Translation: can you tell me that you wouldn''t try to swoop in yourself, if we win everything after expending all that we have?


    Given the fact Khalai hasn''t fucked us over before, I gave him the truth.


    "My desire is to conquer the entire continent. Every Citadel shall be within my control in the next decade or less." I declared my intentions to the entire room. A silence swept through it. Everyone knew that was my plan, but saying it aloud made it concrete. What was at stake, what my intentions were, was now for others to peruse and evaluate against their own. "If you wish to retain the Citadels, if you manage to take them from the Merchants, Forgers, and Guardians, I will move against you and take everything. This whole continent must be united under a single ruler, to fight against the entire world."


    Khalai''s smile grew a little sad and he nodded before sighing.


    "It''s unfortunate, then. I hoped that we could coexist, but I knew from the moment you allowed cults to flourish in your lands that such was not to be." Yep, there it was. The moment I invested in the Followers of the Smiling Tyrant, my relations with the Wardens was set in stone. Freedom of religion wasn''t allowed. There was only one faith to them, and all others were abominations or parasites. Khalai stood and smiled prettily, and gave me a wink before looking at Sirena. "Don''t worry, I''ll keep her by my side so you can steal her away properly. Until then, King of Wisdom, may fortune continue to favor you until we cross swords."


    Of course, his last words sent my way were an innuendo.


    With that said, the Wardens departed to try and seize their own future¡­ leaving me with alone atop the tower.


    Morgan''s stare at the back of my head drew my attention, but I decided on starting things off.


    "Ayah, activate the operatives we''ve been cultivating in the Warden''s lands. It''s time to restart our projects there. For the Merchants, let''s start extracting notable people who notice things are going downhill." I got up from the throne and disregarded it. Horrible back support. I had to lean back the entire time. "Let''s have the Forgers and the Guardians duke it out, while sabotaging everyone else. We''ll take out whoever wins and take everything."


    Ayah bowed in the corner of my vision, and I expected some questions aimed my way as we walked, but none came.


    I suppose that was enough to answer their concerns.

 V8: Chapter 2

    V8: Chapter 2


    ¡­


    After several years of conniving and controlling and careful management of my image, I requested a suite just for myself in the Citadel. A room where I could just rest and recuperate and enjoy the amenities of modern life. Whatever I wanted would just be brought to the door for me to enjoy, and maintenance and care of the room itself would be done by modified Guardians incapable of sharing my secrets or gossiping about me.


    In other words, a room where I can be a useless fucking nobody for a week or two.


    ¡°Oh, thank fuck. It¡¯s been too long.¡± The moment I crossed the threshold and the doors closed shut, I let go of the grip I¡¯d been maintaining on my fa?ade. As swiftly as I could, I took off my jacket, my trousers, my shirt, and headed straight towards the bath. My clothes were picked up by a faceless Guardian to be washed, while I could hear the water start running. The ring on my finger responded to my desires. I¡¯d been wearing half of them ever since Khanrow started going off on expeditions. The other two were with people he trusted. Riegert and probably somebody else that I wasn¡¯t aware of. ¡°Dummy 1, get my lunch set 1 ready. And, my dinner set 2.¡±


    The Guardian in question tilted its diamond-shaped head up and down and skittered to the kitchen where a wok station waited alongside a full range, a griddle, and a grill. The ring was linked to my mind. It saw what I wanted and desired. The fabricators capable of creating massive amounts of raw material, organic matter, and specialized equipment came alive to make what I wanted reality¡­ and right now that was some spicy, garlicky noodles with lots of tender beef, along with a whole steak with mashed potatoes laden with cheese and butter, all accompanied by very carbonated, very sweet drinks.


    The bathroom also finished transforming by the time I reached it.


    As I crossed the threshold without clothes, dirt and detritus were removed from me by a field of magic. However, while I became clean, I didn¡¯t feel clean yet. The aches and pains of a long journey, expedited through an express over-night flight by my request, lingered on my body. I clambered into a nice, heated bath filled with nice aromas and suds, which also began to bubble like a jacuzzi at all the right places. And, I wasn¡¯t exaggerating. The jets of water were completely perfect at targeting all the knots and strains on my body, and I was perfectly floating in the water through magic cast by the Citadel itself.


    Suspended in nice-smelling water, having all my pains and aches washed away, I did my best to forget, to not think, and to decompress.


    To not think of all the Undead legions that I had turned to dust instead of buried.


    To not think of all the monstrous tribes I ordered put to the sword instead of forcing to surrender.


    To not think of all the people that died because I marched them off to war.


    The last one was easy to untangle. If we hadn¡¯t dealt with the Death Lord, it would¡¯ve become a larger disaster that would¡¯ve threatened our long term prospects and survivability. It had to be put down. Did I wish that less people died and that I had less casualties? Absolutely. However, I got as many people as I could out alive. All my preparation, planning, and conniving led to far less casualties than expected.


    ¡°Barely a thousand casualties and barely three hundred dead.¡± It was a massive, massive win. Most of it was attributed to all the vitamins and medical supplies stocked up, as well as the rapid transportation abilities of my transports. People can get stabilized quickly and sent into the backline. If they had bad injuries, they were kept alive and moved towards a Citadel for time in a healing pod. That was the cause behind our low casualties. We can regrow whole limbs and organs in people now. If they died, if their brain was gone, it¡¯d be over¡­ but if they persisted through immense and terrible wounds through magic? They could be put back together. ¡°But how many can still fight?¡±


    Surviving all of that was sure to be traumatic. Even if you get your bits and pieces back, you still lost them once, and that could easily lead to people getting absolutely fucked in the head.


    Which I was trying to avoid, and barely managing to, while I was in the backline and giving out orders.


    Not nearly dying at the front.


    I needed a way to address that issue¡­ but that went back to work.


    Which meant it was for later.


    I sank my head beneath the water for a bit, before rising back out. The sounds of everything outside the bath were gone and the room was darkened. Even the faint bubbling noises of the jacuzzi faded. It started to go completely dark and a low hum permeated the room, as I turned my bathroom into a sensory deprivation chamber and equalized the temperature of the water to feel exactly like body temperature and made myself float with even less effort.


    A single thought pervaded my mind.


    Was it right for me to take away a righteous victory from the people under my command?


    Right now, news was going to travel fast. We¡¯re going to be labelled as fearsome, terrifying foes who do anything to win. The chemical weapons we deployed were considered atrocities in the game, and they¡¯ll be atrocities in this one. The bombardment of the enemy with Citadel Guardians unveiled strategic bombing as method of killing. Sure, we accepted the surrender of our foes, but we gave absolutely no quarter to any of those that didn¡¯t.


    Ogres and Trolls are endangered and if nothing is done soon, they¡¯ll die out.


    Genocide.


    The tribal cultures and lands of the various monster species are going to be wiped out.


    Genocide, again.


    My plans to terrorize the rest of the world and try and keep them away.


    Absolutely, genocide.


    Chemical weapons and strategic bombing?


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Atrocities in the making, especially with my plans to expand on both for the next conflict, and my planned targets not being entirely military.


    If I had to destroy multiple cities to gain the last four Citadels, I would.


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to do whatever it takes to live.¡± I said the words aloud and held out my hand. It was so dark that I couldn¡¯t see it. Weightless, suspended in nearly nothing, considered my words. ¡°But¡­ are my people willing to do everything to live?¡±


    You¡¯d think that¡¯s an easy question to answer.


    But a lot of people die for the sake of honor, for the sake of their family, and for a whole slew of other reasons.


    Nearly everyone, also, has a line they¡¯d never cross.


    A sin that they wouldn¡¯t commit, even if they would die in the process.


    It would be presumptuous of me to assume that everyone would be fine with everything that I did, as I heaped on atrocities and black marks upon my nation.


    Am I saving their lives?


    Yes.


    Am I working towards destroying enemies that would kill them all at best and make them suffer horrific fates at the very worst?


    Again, yes.


    But would these guys want to be saved at the price I demanded?


    I thought about it for a while, and eventually came to an answer.


    ¡°Whatever, that¡¯ll be my problem once I win.¡±


    After the coming series of clusterfucks, I¡¯ll welcome having to just deal with the consequences of my actions to survive it all.


    I went back to enjoying a jacuzzi, bubbles, and nice soothing music.


    ¡­


    A lot stories I read had protagonists that wanted a taste of their old favorites after being transported to another world.


    Thankfully, given the fact I controlled a post-scarcity food fabricator, I didn¡¯t have to worry about it.


    The noodles struck the right chord between chewy and toothsome. Given a quick boil, before being tossed into a wok filled with aromatics, chili pepper, and sliced up beef and vegetables, the noodles were the star of the show with everything else just playing second fiddle. They were thin noodles, made in mind to carry the flavor of being fired up properly on a wok, and they were soft, but a bit chewy and crunchy while also having a hybrid taste of fresh and smoky. Every bite was garlicky, scented with fresh green onion, and spiced by a combination of numbing pepper and hot peppers.


    I could¡¯ve picked out every piece of stir-fried vegetable and meat from the noodles, and it wouldn¡¯t have detracted from it one bit.


    To accompany the noodles, I had hot tea that helped get past the slight greasiness that persisted after each bite.


    After finishing that dish, I went onto the steak.


    It was just a few ounces of steak alongside some mashed potatoes, but I preferred it over any ¡®dessert.¡¯ The steak had an immaculate crust, while being evenly pink throughout within. The crust crunched, the insides just gave way, and my mouth was filled with the juices of the meat along with the aroma of pepper and the taste of salt complimenting the beef. The meat produced by the fabricator had as much fat and lean meat as you wanted, and I chose around eighteen percent fat to meat, which was a few points shy of the lowest quality Wagyu but nearly double that of Prime grade. I preferred the middle ground between the two as a treat.


    I polished off the few ounces of steak and the mash with an extremely fizzy cola.


    With that I was ready for my next move¡­ entertain myself until I could sleep.


    ¡°Dummy 1, bring out the cards and the chips.¡± I clapped my hands, as the table was cleared, and I got up to stretch. Card games were the best for this sort of thing. The Guardians had simple minds good enough to play well enough in poker and other card games. Blackjack was also fun. It was a good way to just mindlessly pass the time. ¡°Dummy 2 and 3, get ready to play. 4, get me the latest books after checking them for anything strange.¡±


    They all moved according to my wishes, doing exactly as I asked. Bots fulfilling their roles soundlessly throughout my room.


    I willed a window to form and a moving surface to walk on and so it became.


    The capital city was massive now. The initial center around the Citadel itself was revamped into various government institutions for processing information and handling various services. The number of clerks needed to keep track of everything would¡¯ve beggared us, even with the influx of Academy-trained individuals, if not for the Iterants taking up the slack. Administering over hundreds of thousands of people with paper and ink, supplemented by some tablets of stone that could retain and transmit information in trusted hands, was a massive undertaking.


    But it was working now, and it had enough capacity to last for another two decades without needing any renovations.


    The remaining districts were like spokes on a wheel that went outward from the city.


    The industrial areas were built as far as possible on purpose, as well as downwind and downriver from the rest of the city. Southeast of the city, factories belched out constant streams of smoke, as furnaces burned, water wheels turned, and industry produced goods for our civilian and military sectors, as well as for trade. Everything from armor, guns, and bullets to clothes, plates, and jarred foods left the industrial sector. Industrial pollution wasn¡¯t something that popped up in the game, but I played enough city builders to know that industry was dirty and needed to be kept away, so I did it anyway.


    The rest of the spokes alternated between research, commercial, and residential. In-game, after you created a district, you can construct buildings and institutions inside it. The districts weren¡¯t single-purpose. People could live within them their entire lives without issue. However, the buildings that you built into them made all the difference.


    Commercial districts could have banks and financial sectors, as well as trade hubs and bazaars. The former specialized commercial districts towards making money, while the latter gave amenities and wealth to your people. While residential areas focused on increasing happiness with parks and public services, you could also have hospitals and recruitment centers built into them that increase population and decrease reinforcement cost respectively. Research areas can have universities and research campuses focused on just pure research, or they could focus on military sciences or magical research.


    Districts could be steadily upgraded, so that they can have more buildings or buildings of higher tiers within them.  Choose the right ones for your strategy, be mindful of their upkeep costs, and you¡¯re golden. If you pick the wrong ones, and you don¡¯t have enough money, you¡¯re going to get fucked. They take time to build, and even if you magically have 100% money back from tearing them down to build something else, the time they¡¯re gone and the time their replacement takes to build is time they¡¯re not working for you.


    Let¡¯s say you build a school at the start of the game. That school gives a ten percent increase in your research income, which is generated by your population. If you look around and find yourself surrounded by Children of the Elm and Forgers, basically two factions who¡¯ll attack you on sight in the early game, you destroy the school to make a military research building. You lose the bonus of the school that turn, and during the turns that the military research building is being built, you don¡¯t receive the ten percent increase AND you don¡¯t get the 20% increase to your research points towards any military research you do. Since the t1 military research building takes four turns to make, you lose out on a 10% research bonus for 4 turns.


    Some would say that the t1 military research building will pay off in just two turns¡­ and they¡¯d be idiots. It¡¯d take four turns for it to pay off, because you still need to factor in the research bonus that the school would¡¯ve given in its stead¡­ and that¡¯s only if ALL the research you do is military. No research into new districts. No diplomacy research. No research on industry. Just pure military¡­ so you¡¯re going to find yourself with units that you can¡¯t afford to replace and take multiple turns to produce and field.


    In other words, opportunity cost is a bitch.


    In gamer words: you made the wrong building eight turns ago? It¡¯s time to restart, buddy.


    Anyway, I went with generalized, all-rounder build for capital.


    Percentage bonuses across the board, population growth, and very little risk. I left specialization to the other Citadels under my control.


    If I did anything wrong, I¡¯ll find out in ten years, when everything goes to shit.


    But, if I did everything right, my capital will be the cornerstone of the entire continent.


    The place where I can literally funnel all my opponents into, so I can kill them at my leisure

 V8: Chapter 3

    V8: Chapter 3


    ¡­


    Ayah arrived ahead of the others, just a day or so after I finished resting and recovering, and entered just about as I was about to go meet with the freshly-relocated goddess in our basement.


    ¡°Perfect, you¡¯re right-on time.¡± I had a pocket watch, just like everyone else did once I fabricators became good enough to mass-manufacture them in bulk. Clockmakers were in short supply, and I needed their technical skill for larger projects, so I went ahead and produced them to get everyone on the same schedule. ¡°Ready to meet a divine being?¡±


    Ayah¡¯s curtsied in reply, and I moved towards my private elevator, as the Ancient Administrator followed.


    ¡°Update me on the march back.¡±


    ¡°It will be back on time. As you suggested, the flying barge is being tested as a support craft. Results are promising.¡± While flying battleships are romantic, and I wanted them, I went with a more conservative approach to my flying ships. They were logistical vessels that could tank fire and support the frontline. A mobile command center with some light artillery, medical services, and that can hold food and provide supplies to soldiers. In battle, they hung over the battlefield and acted as support and a big target that can handle hits. Outside of battle, they¡¯d land and support the army like a mobile town. At all times, they¡¯d have a command and logistical staff in to manage the needs and goals of the army. ¡°They are very effective in this role. I believe it would be best to have at least four for every army group.¡±


    ¡°Maybe just for our premier assault forces, since we¡¯ll need replacements in case one needs repairs or maintenance.¡± I was going by naval fleet rules here. Boats aren¡¯t easily replaced. Barring specific circumstances, such as being able to wage war without the enemy coming near the vast majority of your your industrial capacity, you go into war with the navy that you have and don¡¯t get the chance to replace them. That¡¯s why you overbuild, in case you lose one or need one fixed up, you have another on the wings while you¡¯re churning out a replacement. ¡°Twelve would be needed, then. At least one spare for every two. Then, we¡¯ll focus on our strategic bombing plans. How does that fit our manufacturing schedule?¡±


    Ayah¡¯s lips pursed at my words and its gaze narrowed.


    It finished the calculations soon enough.


    ¡°It does not. Five years will only be enough to build ten, and that is without building the necessary vehicles to disrupt the enemy.¡± That sounded about right. Massive military buildup had to be precluded by massive industrial build up, and that had to be preceded by a large, educated workforce. Everything was currently a work in progress. Even with Iterants propping us up, we had to be careful with their steady ¡®migration¡¯ into our lands from ¡®elsewhere¡¯ to keep their anonymity, our population wasn¡¯t enough for shipyards that churned out flying castles. ¡°We¡¯ll refine the process. Make smaller versions that just provide food and supplies. We¡¯ll make what we currently have the flagships, while the rest are focused on either backline or frontline support.¡±


    ¡°I will have the idea studied and drafts made today. The ability to simply place a support center with kitchens, food, and other infrastructure is simply too good to ignore.¡± Ayah finished with a nod, as the elevator finally stopped.


    It took five or so minutes to reach the top to the bottom, where the hidden escape routes and the secret projects were. The doors opened and the walls seemingly came alive. Citadel Guardians formed from the walls and formed flanking guards in my presence. After a few minutes of walking, Iterants arrived from the guard stations and joined my entourage. These guys were the absolute last line of defense, and I hoped that they¡¯d never have to do their jobs, because they¡¯d be holding the line while I absconded with the control rings into self-imposed exile in the very first flying craft we managed to make of the Ancient¡¯s models.


    The underground base of the Citadel grew with it. A lot of the rooms were inaccessible, probably housing generators and other massive machines that allowed the upgraded Citadel to work properly. Maintained by the Citadel, while the maintained the Citadel, access to the machines was wholly unnecessary¡­ and beyond our ability in the first place. However, besides those sealed rooms there were others for storage that we made use of.


    I had any excess manufacturing capacity churn out ration bars and fill whole warehouses in perfectly sealed environments. Massive rooms were dedicated to just being filled with cans filled with distilled water good for drinking and for cleaning wounds. Medical supplies filled several rooms with everything from bandages to painkillers and surgical supplies. Lots of the rooms had stores of ammunition and weapons. Any excess manufacturing capacity was dedicated towards a cycle of rooms, food, medical supplies, and weapons in certain quantities, before cycling back.


    By Ayah¡¯s estimates, in our stores, we had enough surge capacity to outfit and provide food for¡­ an army of ten thousand people for four months.


    Or, you know, an army of forty thousand people for a month.


    Honestly, I hoped I¡¯d never need to use it, but guns on walls were pretty good defenses.


    But the storerooms had another function.


    They acted as very isolated, very inaccessible vaults.


    Making them great places to store powerful Artifacts, as well as the Nature Goddess that Riegert found in the Seed Vault.


    The two massive doors hissed open into the sealed room¡­ and despite being deep underground I looked upon a sparkling meadow with young sapling trees, blue jays, and young deer running around. The roof was blue and small clouds floated through the false sky, while flowers and blades of grass moved to a breeze that shouldn¡¯t exist.


    In her mere presence, while she slept, the nature goddess natural created her domain.


    I felt awe coming off of Ayah and the Iterants.


    And, I understood why.


    This ¡®divine¡¯ individual was made by the Ancients at the height of their power. After creating their sources of magic, they spent centuries figuring how to miniaturize and create them rather than in another dimension. They did this by refining their abilities, limiting them to certain paths, and replacing the engines that give them immense power with faith that they can derive from populations. They could use great magics that would take decades for dedicated specialists of the time to make, and with time and a massive population backing them. Once a whole pantheon was assembled, each one fully grown and worshipped, the Ancient¡¯s would¡¯ve been eventually be able to alter the fabric of reality itself to whatever they desired.


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    In other words, all the enemies of the Ancients sucker punched them and hit them with everything that they had, because the Ancients were going to win¡­ at everything.


    But that endgame was out of reach. We didn¡¯t have the billions in population for them to ever get that powerful, and the Pantheon wasn¡¯t complete. They needed a whole set of twelve and there was a max of three¡­ and it was unlikely we¡¯ll find the other ones. Once the protections wore off, the various Ancient facilities out there were going to go underground and take longer to recover via expeditions and by the end of midgame expeditions were just a way to waste armies.


    Maybe, if we¡¯re extremely lucky, we¡¯ll find a decent Ancient Wonder before everything kicks off.


    After that, expedition forces are better off quelling enemy incursions, while we make do with what we had.


    That meant starting the event chain for the Nature Goddess right now.


    I reached the center of the room, where the artificial divine being slept on her side.


    I took a look at her¡­ and blinked.


    She¡­ seemed¡­ smaller than recalled in the official art?


    Now, I¡¯ve seen a lot of good art of this woman. The audience of the game is full of degenerates with deep pockets, after all. They commission a lot of stuff to the point that cosplayers who know nothing of the genre, let alone the game, buy cheap knockoff outfits to herd some of the cash their way. However, the original art of the game for the goddesses were already off-the-rails and out-of-pocket for a modern game. The nature goddess had a ridiculous hourglass figure, with plenty at the front and rear, and she also towered over mortals at ten feet tall. With wavy blonde hair, sensual features, and elven ears, posting pictures of her on a forum is a one-way guarantee to seeing pages being devoted to just spamming ¡®mommy.¡¯


    The divine being I was looking at now looked somewhat like the powerful lore-figure I recalled, but¡­ to be frank¡­ the generous curves were around half what they should be.


    Did some gossip rag manage to get the devs to nerf her after I died?


    Nah.


    They¡¯re independents and from eastern Europe.


    They don¡¯t give a shit about that.


    As long as they can afford rent, alcohol, and cigarettes, they don¡¯t give a shit.


    So, with that being impossible, I could only think that she didn¡¯t have enough power and wasn¡¯t at her full potential.


    ¡°Your majesty?¡± Ayah¡¯s voice brought me from my musings, and I looked her way. ¡°Are we awakening the divine engine?¡±


    ¡°¡­I have a gut feeling that we shouldn¡¯t. In the texts, it was said that these individuals take power from faith. She is magnificent, but¡­ divine?¡± I gestured at the sleeping blonde clad only in leaves and flowers. ¡°Certainly not. From the power I sense from her, she can be defeated with a handful of Champions. Four maximum. Far from what she ought to be.¡±


    ¡°I see. Hm¡­ my readings regarding her power output show the same results. You are correct. Powerful, yes, but within the realm of being outdone by several Archmagi.¡± Ayah frowned and looked upon the sleeping goddess. ¡°What do you propose we do?¡±


    The answer to that was simple.


    ¡°We¡¯ll declare her existence and spread her faith before she awakens. We don¡¯t have to hold back in terms of religion now, anyway.¡± Am I technically measuring this divine being¡¯s power by the fact her tits weren¡¯t the size of my head? Yeah. I am. She¡¯s not lore-accurate yet, so I¡¯m not going to wake her up. She¡¯s already the most suboptimal divine being that I could¡¯ve gotten, therefore I¡¯m going to make sure that she¡¯s not any weaker than she should be. ¡°Contact the cultists of the Smiling Tyrant. We have need of their aid and we needn¡¯t feign dismissiveness of them any longer.¡±


    I technically ¡®froze¡¯ relations with the Smiling Tyrants officially by not sponsoring or helping them any further, once we began working with Khalai more closely. They were understanding, primarily because we just obfuscated our donations and support of them through shell companies. In fact, they approved of the trickery and deceit, especially as we got closer to the Wardens who were proud to proclaim that we were supporting their religion and not any other¡¯s by cutting ties with the Smiling Tyrant cult.


    It was a funny joke, all things considered, and they were all for having many more religions and gods.


    Their divine jester, after all, is happier the more targets it has.


    ¡°Very good, your majesty. I¡¯ll contact them today and reinstate formal ties, as well.¡± Ayah stated, and I turned away from the sleeping goddess. It was not yet time¡­ and suddenly I felt a tingle on the back of my hand. A warmth bloomed on my left hand. A circle of vines with small leaves. I recognized the mark. It was the same that would be put on the banner of the country that held the Nature Goddess. People called it a bullseye, since you¡¯d know go after that person asap and not let them build up. ¡°It seems that the Ancient¡¯s Divine Engine of Nature has some semblance of cognition even whilst she slumbers.¡±


    ¡°It appears so.¡± I looked upon the marking. In the events, the leader was meant to get this and showcase their rise as a prophet of sorts that led the budding religion. The first few CGs was just the symbol on the back of the hand slightly aglow while the leader shares the faith with the people. Eventually, it would lead to the emblem shining brightly on the back of a clenched fist as tens of thousands of feverish faithful did the same. I¡¯d hoped to foist the position on someone else, but this made sense and it was always the role of the ¡®leader¡¯ of a faction to act as their divine entity¡¯s prophet/messiah. ¡°Gloves, please. It¡¯ll be best to keep this hidden, until we are ready.¡±


    A low hum permeated the lower floors, and soon enough a Guardian skittered towards me with gloves, which I put on for both hands.


    Ayah¡¯s stare on the back of my hands was palpable as I put them on, and as the glow faded I was vaguely aware that I was being watched by someone.


    Probably the ¡®divine being¡¯ that instinctively marked the person addressed as ¡®your majesty¡¯ in its presence. In-game, the AI could get swept up in focusing on raising its divine entity and gearing itself up to solely empower their divine patron. If that happened, and the right events triggered and were chosen, then the divine being would replace their leader. A theocracy headed by a physical god would replace that faction, keeping most of that faction¡¯s units and wonders and tech, but adding a few new units and techs in the process.


    I guess, in this case, this was a warning for me.


    Players could do the same, by choosing the right options, and generally did so to get those few advantages for one reason or another.


    Because to them, the ¡®leader¡¯ of their controlled faction is just an animated avatar/portrait that pops up in diplomacy screens.


    Here, though, being replaced wasn¡¯t just a cosmetic change that came with some bonus units.


    It would mean losing control on my end¡­ and I¡¯ve never seen the Divine factions win against all the Crises coming at once.


    One?


    Sure.


    Two?


    Maybe.


    Anything at three or past that?


    Yeah, they weren¡¯t good enough to lead through that.


    ¡°Call our finest sorcerers and magic specialists. Those we can trust. This needs to be studied. I don¡¯t want my mind controlled by this goddess.¡±


    Despite Ayah¡¯s awe at the nature goddess when it first saw her, the features of the Ancient Administrator grew steely at what I implied.


    ¡°It will be done, your majesty. May I also suggest placing destructive charges in this room, just in case?¡±


    It wanted to keep me around more than it wanted to keep the Ancient Wonder around.


    Good.


    I could trust it a little.


    ¡°Do that. Now, let¡¯s get moving. I want to talk to the Smiling Tyrants directly.¡±


    We¡¯ll see how these few seasons of upcoming peace go.


    I hoped, at the very least, to have a population boom and elevate the other Citadel¡¯s surroundings into cities.


    If I could get a Nature Goddess as an ally while doing that? Great.


    But if she was a risk to my mind¡­


    It¡¯d be better to blow her up.

 V8: Chapter 4

    V8: Chapter 4


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    We shamelessly took the King of Wisdom¡¯s designs for establishing a council to meet upon, yet without his presence it was a humbling experience rather than a productive one.


    ¡°My lady.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Christine.¡± I retreated to my wing of the small building made for our meetings. Three others like it were each at the capitals of the Wardens, Forgers, and Merchants. Each building was identical and on neutral grounds at each of our capitals. Each one exact with the same dimensions and situated around a circular atrium where we would meet and speak to one another on equal terms, the place we would meet at changing every year. ¡°I need this.¡±


    It was coffee produced from the Citadel. After we joined our Citadels together briefly, so that we would all benefit from having a quarter of the King of Wisdom¡¯s power, we had more manufacturing ability to spare. We could make ancient things written of in our history books that no one alive amongst my kind could remember. Tools, weapons, and equipment that we only heard stories of in the King of Wisdom¡¯s lands were now ours to create in masse.


    The knowledge that he had all the tools we now had and the benefits that they gave, and has been using them with his immense population, was immensely sobering.


    I took a sip of the steadying, bitter yet bright brew prepared by my Champion clad in light plate armor and took a measured breath.


    ¡°Once again, we¡¯re at a dead lock because of the Merchants.¡± The Merchants of the Marsh had been upended due to the weakness of their leader. The King of Wisdom extracted immense wealth from them and a small revolt had occurred which nearly took Executive Harper¡¯s life in the process. Stories abounded about how she managed to remain in power, many of which were bloody and violent, and there was a distinct tension in the air of their lands. Whatever happened then, I feared, would soon happen again and the Forgers will take advantage of the Merchants¡¯ infighting. ¡°Though, I suppose, we would do the same in their place.¡±


    ¡°They still ask for too much. To have favorable trade routes is understandable. To have complete control of the fledgling banking system, as the King of Wisdom has in his lands? Absolute foolishness.¡± Christine joined me and sat across from me with her own cup of coffee. From her satchel, she pulled a flask and took a sip with a grimace. She was in her blooding period, making her imbibement of a whole flask of Vampire blood a daily necessity. The taste will not be tolerable for another month, but the increase in power and strength it gave was without question. ¡°They ask for that, while demanding that the signals corporation be evenly between us all, so that they can blame wrong letters and missing missives that embolden accounts upon the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°And, of course, there¡¯s the matter of the unified academic system and agricultural methods. Hmph. In truth, everyone has different wants and needs that they wish to force upon one another.¡± We were desperately working together to emulate the King of Wisdom, but his singular rule and fame gave him a truly immense advantage. Centralized power backed by the people. In his lands, he ruled supreme, and none could truly compete with him. Meanwhile, we were beholden to those who gave us power. Me, the various courts of Undead. The Forgers and their primary clans. The Merchants to their nobility. The clergy of the Wardens. His word was law and his decisions final. We fought for influence from within and without. ¡°I have a feeling, in a year¡¯s time, that we will only have a military alliance and nothing more.¡±


    Nothing more that can allow us to catch up with the King of Wisdom.


    ¡°We can¡¯t. We need to work together. Otherwise, we¡¯ll just lose.¡± Christine groaned and shook her head with a fierce scowl. I made sure all my Champion were well taught and well read. They needed to know what we were dealing with. The King of Wisdom used his centralized power to establish organizations of immense potency. The building of roads, the transportation of goods, the farming of crops, and many major industries were all under his control through various organizations and guilds established by his writ. They were given missions, instructions, and advice, then they did their duty with the funds they were given and the power vested in them¡­ and his realm flourished. ¡°The Forgers are refusing to send out Transports for logistics and trade. We could all be benefiting from that, but they¡¯re keeping it entirely to themselves. We could all have it and be better for it.¡±


    The king of the Forgers cited that they needed to take it for themselves to ¡®recover¡¯ from having those they sent abandoning the Forgers to become the King of Wisdom¡¯s people. The King of Wisdom kept his end of the bargain with them, despite the fact they did not support their own armies after giving him control. They now had strong herds of flying horses, along with the systems and magical education needed to conduct logistical operations with them. We could all benefit from it¡­ but they kept it for themselves.


    ¡°We are not true allies. Perhaps we shall never be.¡± I admitted with a sigh. Even the moment when all the rings were placed on my hand, after I swore to my ancestors and had blades at my neck, I had felt the distrust and malice of the Forgers and Merchants. Only Saintess Sirena seemed apologetic alongside the Justiciar Khalai. ¡°But you are right. We must work together, somehow, otherwise only defeat awaits us. We may each have a Citadel that matches one of the King of Wisdom¡¯s now, but he still has four of each while we only have one. I must convey this fact completely when we meet again.¡±


    Christine nodded and was ready to provide advice when the door to my guest lounge opened and Mallory entered.


    ¡°My lady, Executive Harper of the Merchants wishes to speak with you.¡± Mallory was in full armor and guarding the door to my current abode. However, she was still able to send a signal my way with her free hand at her side, as the other had turned the knob to open the door. It was an open palm facing inward and not a fist. An open opportunity. The political game within the fledgling union of our peoples has begun. ¡°Shall I allow her in?¡±


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    ¡°Yes. Christine, please prepare some tea and put the coffee aside.¡± Coffee was a dangerous drink to many Merchants along with a few others foods. It would be improper, so I had the food set aside for the moment. I stood up and moved to my desk, abandoning my drinking table beside the window. The office desk was another thing that I stole from Jack. Each room of mine in each diplomatic center was the same. The convenience of it was without question, and it gave my visitors pause when they realized I truly remained in my territory. ¡°Let her in.¡±


    Mallory gave a nod, and through the double doors came forth Executive Harper.


    She adopted a black and red suit, the opposite color of her white-clad assistants, and this time she wore a plan mask as they did, though hers was ebony. Gone was the gown and the luxury and the dresses, along with the fine wine and the massive, hulking guards. Her new guards were lithe assassins with masked faces that stayed near the door with Christine and Mallory watching them. Her mark of office was new, too. On her chest, over her heart, was a small pin with the face of a snarling wolf.


    One encounter with Jack and her whole life was irrevocably changed.


    No.


    The Merchants of the Marsh changed in their entirety.


    A whole nation of merchants made deadlier and more lethal from a singular meeting with the King of Wisdom.


    ¡°Lady Celia.¡± Her tone was clipped and she took in front of my desk only after I nodded and offered it to her. Her six assistants were like lines up statues behind her. Perfectly poised and quiet. My Undead seemed more alive than them. ¡°I bring grave tidings. Within the next two years, we will be completely unable to overcome the industrial and economic might of the King of Wisdom, unless we institute all the changes I have outlined in this plan.¡±


    One of the assistants came forward and from a white satchel she produced a thick tome. The papers within were thin and light and clean. They went through much effort to encode the findings for the Citadel to create.


    The first page outlined Executive Harper¡¯s proposal.


    I raised an eyebrow upon reading it.


    ¡°A lot of these plans call for unity and cooperation. You¡¯ve been against that in all three of our last meetings.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s necessary. The Forgers want my life and my nation. I must show strength in front of them, and the new armies are only being constructed.¡± Executive Harper explained, and I reminded myself that I was looking at a woman who reached the highest peak of Merchant society and retained that spot after encountering the force of nature known as the King of Wisdom. Her ability and talent was not to be questioned, at least in the realm of politics and the management of a nation. ¡°High Justiciar Khalai vouches for me, as well.¡±


    From her lapel pocket, she produced a simple piece of cloth¡­ where the High Justiciar signed his name and placed his seal¡­ and left a kiss mark of light purple.


    I swear, he was somehow more dedicated to Jack more than Sirena.


    ¡°I see. His insight on matters such as this is something that I respect, however his words alone will not sway me. Executive Harper¡­ I will have this poured over by my scholars, but it is best that you convince me now of your truth.¡±


    She nodded and moved to speak¡­ but took off her mask.


    Instead of the extravagant makeup she once wore, she only had a light scattering on her face now, and her youth became more apparent.


    ¡°Lady Celia¡­ I underestimated the King of Wisdom immensely. I thought him a mere child with grand aspirations wasting the wealth he had at his disposal. However, shortly after I began the purge of my foes, I went into his lands myself and saw the truth.¡± Her eyes were golden and sharp, but the fear in them was unmistakable. Her ears were flat against her head and she forced herself to sit straight and stand firm. Was it an act or the truth? Did it matter, if she told me the truth. ¡°His plans extend into the decades. Everything he has done is but a foundation to his future aspirations. The grand armies, the flying transports, the factories, and schools¡­ Lady Celia, it¡¯s all just the beginning of his ambitions.¡±


    A stilled at the words, and my eyes wandered to the report on my desk. Somehow, the tome seemed to drag my eyes and bid me to read it, while I felt fear gather in my stomach like lead.


    ¡°I saw thousands of children each group separated by age, Lady Celia. They are being taught in institutions and live with each other in dorms. They practice reading and writing, but every day they train their bodies and prepare to work. Their minds are filled with stories that he wrote, lessons he approved, and of the story of their nation¡­ he is not a king in his lands, Lady Celia, he is a god.¡±


    Some part of my mind tried to reject her words, but again the tome by my side drew my gaze.


    I knew that the information would be contained within, and that I would have my people verify it all.


    And, I also knew that it would be redundant to do so.


    ¡°In a single decade, in each of his Citadels, a class will graduate two thousand strong. Eight thousand young men and women who know how to read, how to write, and already trained for work will go to him. The next year another eight thousand will join them, if not more, and that will be continuous¡­ and ever-growing.¡± Executive Harper¡¯s words took on a ferocity as she spoke. She must have seen the realization in my eyes. My understanding of Jack¡¯s plans and intentions melded with the information that she gleamed. She was standing now and looming over my desk, barely stopping herself from gripping hold of its surface. ¡°They will work in factories that he is perfecting to output more and more, work jobs and positions that are being refined, and given housing. They will have children, those children will be cared for by his state, and they will not bear the responsibility of caring for them in the slightest. Lady Celia¡­ in just two decades, my people believe that we will be at least outnumbered twenty to one by a nation superior to us in. Every. Single. Aspect.¡±


    The fire of madness was unmistakable in her eyes.


    It was fire born of terror at discovering a singular truth that was just beginning to dawn on me, as well.


    But I was versed in facing my fears and summoning courage to face them, so I was able to ask a question.


    ¡°And, if we work together, we can match him? Rival him and not be utterly subsumed? If we unite?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps. Maybe. Possibly, aha! Ha¡­ha¡­ perhaps¡­¡± A broken laugh left her lips and she retreated backward and slumped into her chair. A great tiredness seemed to emanate from her. A part of me wanted to apologize for pitying her when she ran away. ¡°I¡¯ve already started on a similar path. I have bid my people to breed and produce children. Those who can make litters most of all. But we are years behind in starting, in infrastructure, in resources, in education¡­ in everything.  I don¡¯t know, Lady Celia¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡±


    I nodded at her words as a silence came over us.


    However, after a few moments, I nodded and rose from my seat and walked past her and placed my hand on the head of the chair she sat upon.


    ¡°You have my unfettered support, Executive Harper. I am with you.¡± Fight or surrender. That was the simple choice we now had. I knew my choice, the only choice my people would allow me to make, thus it was settled. ¡°Let¡¯s make him work hard for it, at the very least.¡±


    That earned a small laugh from my ally, and I chuckled along.


    It felt like laughing alongside another on the gallows.

 V8: Chapter 5

    V8: Chapter 5


    ¡­


    How much does it take to make one brick cost effectively?


    And, after that brick is made, how fast can you get it where it needs to go?


    To answer those two questions, you first need to ask another set of questions:


    What are the bricks for?


    What is the brick in question required to be? Tensile strength? Dimensions?  Material composition? Weight?


    How many hours will it take to extract the raw materials? Are the raw materials available through the current market in required amounts? Will there be shortages within the project timeframe for which the brick is required?  If there is a bad actor in the process, who sells poor quality materials, how much damage will lack of checks do? Will we need inspectors for the materials?


    What is the manufacturing process of the brick? How many labor hours are required? Where can that labor be sourced from? How specialized is the education required for the production line, the on-field supervision, and management staff? Back to the manufacturing process. How long will it take to form the bricks and cure them? What machines are necessary to make it in the desired quantities? Will machines even be necessary? What are the dimensions needed for the furnace and how big should the facility be?


    All those questions need to be answered.


    If the answer doesn¡¯t exist, it needs to be made through a study.


    If there isn¡¯t a floor plan, along with a mock trial, they should begin making both.


    In other words, to make any project work for half of a continent, you needed bureaucracy. There needs to be documented processes to be followed and those processes in question need to have trackable goals, delivery status reports, and milestones to reach. Not only do you need pencil pushers who just keep track of one thing in dozens of departments and just keeping up with all of them, you also need problem solvers, analysts, people managing lines of communication, and managers and supervisors for it all.  Every step needs to be documented, every plan in triplicate and poured over for any mistake, and then mock-trials and models made for each plan before their implementation, along with all the paper work needed.


    You¡¯re free to say that it sounds insane, and that I¡¯m making work for imbeciles to basically do nothing in. I say that I¡¯d rather see a few dozen mock trials fuck up, before I end up with the infrastructure for bricks that don¡¯t brick¡­ let alone combat armor, rifles, and grenades. Not only that, but once the bureaucrats are done producing a fully-realized system of production that I want, they can start on another project.


    Is paperwork horrible?


    Yeah.


    Will the bureaucracy end up requiring more bureaucracy for the sake of bureaucracy?


    Most assuredly.


    Does it save money and time by preventing investment into bad production lines and products?


    Abso-fucking-lutely.


    ¡­


    While the rest of the city was preparing to receive its returning heroes, I was looking at the first five steam engine locomotives made to bolster the trade routes between my cities. The engines in question were large barrel-shaped constructs on four large wheels on each side. It was entirely reverse engineered from a steam locomotive made by the Citadel. It took days of Citadel time to fabricate the construct, which could¡¯ve otherwise been used to churn out medicine, raw material, and agricultural supplies beyond our ability to create.


    We took it apart, made models of it, studied it, and eventually the scholars figured it out and wrote everything down. After that, many of the first designs blew up and only magic healers on station prevented deaths. Most of the first models blew out within days after being put through the endurance tests we put it through. Only after we had a locomotive that could run for days without blowing up, or needing maintenance, did we begin making the dedicated infrastructure to mass produce the trains¡­ and we were nowhere close to the train made by the Citadel.


    But they didn¡¯t take up fabrication time that could be used to make Guardians and cannons, so it was a good result in my book.


    Now, we had a factory that could make five locomotives every three months, so I could start connecting my cities with rail and ease the burden on my flying transports. As effective as the flying transports were, they took up mages, flying horses, and skilled pilots when used. With the population growing steadily, leading to rising demand for goods and materials in all cities, they were becoming too costly for the role. Good for perishables and priority stuff, but not for bulk shipments of grain or materials for factory work.


    They were good enough knock-offs, and I¡¯ll be using them until the Ancient¡¯s Underground transportation network is online and under my control.


    It also gave my people training in building steam-powered engines and tools and machinery.


    Hopefully, this would get me industrialized earlier than expected, but the scholars needed time, the engineers needed time, and the factories would need to be built.


    Maybe, at most, I shaved off a year or two from the official industrialization period from the game.


    But I¡¯ll take what I can get.


    ¡°Push two of them to their limits. Find out whatever can go wrong. Destructively test them to see their limits, too. Record everything.¡± Ayah nodded at my words. The plant manager and everyone else working on them were given the day off and a small bonus for their efforts.  Now, Ayah and I were accompanied just be another Iterants as we looked through the looming trains. ¡°Direct lines between our cities first. Keep it as straight as possible. The less chance of failure the better.¡±


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I touched the massive steam locomotive, while Ayah wrote out and gave orders to the Iterant.


    The flying transports, the flying castles, and now these trains. All three weren¡¯t in the game. Oftentimes, I did my best to think of them as lateral thinking. Projects that just weren¡¯t in the game for the sake of time to make a viable product. Game Devs don¡¯t have infinite funding and infinite time, after all. These innovations outside the game were meant to be advantages, but every time I consider the time and money that I put into them, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the reason why they weren¡¯t in the game was if they were dead ends.


    What if the resources I was piling onto non-game canonical units and projects weren¡¯t available, since they¡¯d consign players to death?


    Whenever that thought came up, though, there was also the fact that the game didn¡¯t showcase a lot of inconveniences. Cities could be blockaded and starved, sure, but there wasn¡¯t a whole logistical system for the player to manage. Once the roads are done, you just pay maintenance on it, and that¡¯s that. You¡¯ve got a connection. Not minding the fact that roads where people can only walk or drag along carriages isn¡¯t worthwhile, and that you needed to breed animals for labor, set up industry for wagons, and make sure those roads were policed.


    In short, to be fun, the game didn¡¯t reflect every single system involved in civilization¡­ because it was a game.


    It was meant to be fun, in the end.


    Reality wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°My lord?¡± Ayah questioned, and I looked at its way. Her way. Whatever. Man, taking a few days to destress made coming back to work harder. I should¡¯ve taken another day or two off. But the clock was clicking. I needed every advantage. ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    I considered Ayah¡¯s words for a moment.


    ¡°Yeah, you can. I want to set up a council to assist me in governing. I¡¯m getting worn down doing so much, and I¡¯m sure everyone else feels the same.¡± Ayah¡¯s eyes widened and she nodded swiftly. I wondered if I was showing weakness or wisdom by asking this. Either way, I couldn¡¯t inspect every factory, look at every result, and do this for everything. I needed to focus and to delegate. ¡°Get portfolios ready to look over by next week. For now, we¡¯ll continue our current pace. By next month, though, I want more time to think and to focus on ruling and preparing for what is to come.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty. I understand. It will be done.¡±


    I nodded, before continuing with my tour.


    After this, I¡¯ll investigate something more conservative that¡¯ll still help us out a lot and be a lot less risky.


    With a small enough budget that I don¡¯t feel bad if it fails, too.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    In the distance, at the center of Talon Hills, our capital was resplendent and greeted us with honor.


    The Citadel, stark white and piercing the clouds in all its immensity, was at the very center of the capital and surrounded by our district of governance. Pure white buildings composed of marble were where laws were set, courts were made where people could judge their peers, and the processes of law and order were set and administrated.


    After that single ring of governance, the districts radiated outward, separated by large roads that all led to our Citadel.


    The residential districts were neat and orderly blocks of buildings. Six floors high, with the first floor dedicated to small businesses, people lived away from the noise of industry and entertainment. Whole villages fit in single block houses, even with their centers dedicated to growing food and spaces to endure nature. From afar, the blocks look like empty squares of multi-colored buildings that spun out from the center of the city. In those blocks, people were provided shelter, running water, basic furnishings, and even light. And, even from the farthest residential block, one could take a trolley and reach anywhere in the city within an hour.


    The residential districts were typically side-by-side, as to prevent noise, but the scholar¡¯s district was between the two. There, the campuses were immense, filled with classrooms, libraries, and laboratories for those who study alchemy and other such things. Amidst a sea of multicolored apartment blocks, the scholar¡¯s district was composed of expansive institutions normally white in color surrounded by trees and surrounded by walls and checkpoints to keep our knowledge safe from spies. Construction was already taking place at the farthest end of the district, of a center of ¡®science¡¯ which the Ancients deemed was the study of reality itself, and once completed the ¡®science¡¯ center will embark on unveiling the secrets of our reality itself.


    Though I wished to take in the rest of the city, a weight settled on my shoulder.


    Morgan¡¯s hand.


    I made sure to check that I responded accordingly and that my knife¡¯s tip was ready to plunge into her heart from beneath her sternum.


    ¡°Oh-ho. Still sharp. I thought you let your guard down. How silly of me.¡± Morgan stuck out her tongue and gave herself a bop to the head, while retreating from my blade. She took a seat on a nearby branch. Not a single needle fell from her movement. ¡°When did you hear me? I thought I was perfect.¡±


    ¡°There was a bird nearby chirping, then you approached the base of the tree and it stopped.¡±


    ¡°Huh, nice to know.¡± Morgan stood on a branch and leaned against the tree casually. She looked upon the capital, and a smile spread across her face. ¡°Barely a year, and it¡¯s even grown more. Did you hear about the latest project? A whole new army?¡±


    ¡°I heard. His majesty intends for at least a pair for each Citadel. He wishes for three.¡± One hundred and twenty thousand soldiers. The thought sounded impossible. It was almost double the force that took the fight against the Death Lord and won the day. ¡°He expects the first probing forces of the outside world to come soon and that we¡¯ll need them all.¡±


    ¡°A defensive army, offensive army, and a spare. Then, there¡¯s all the militias. In a few years, we¡¯ll have nearly half a million troops.¡± Morgan casually made projections and statements only learned scholars ought to be able.  Or, of course, his majesty.¡°Say a three to one advantage with defensible positions, and we have a million and a half soldiers effectively¡­ yep, we¡¯ll need the others to fall in line as soon as possible. The numbers just don¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°It will be difficult with the new alliance they¡¯ve forged amongst themselves.¡±


    ¡°Difficult? Hm. I¡¯d say impossible, myself. They¡¯re feeling it now. The threat of our ruler and the new power that comes with allies and Citadels on the same level as our own. They¡¯ll be filling their lands with Guardians now. Any war against them will be a waste of lives.¡± Morgan sighed and shook her head. I glanced her way. Despite the dire news, she had a smile on her face. ¡°Now it¡¯ll be all about subterfuge and intrigue and culture. All of which our king has carefully prepared for us.¡±


    Morgan¡¯s smile became ferocious in an instant, more like she was baring teeth than expressing teeth.


    ¡°None of them know. Not one of them knows that we have Iterants. That we¡¯ve sent them into their lands amidst their refugees and their logistical offices.¡± A small chuckle left her lips, followed by an outright guffaw, as she began to laugh riotously. She had to lean against the tree trunk and hold onto her stomach, before wiping away tears that formed in her eyes. ¡°I thought it foolish to hide them. I wanted to use them as shock infantry, assassins, and bury the enemy with troops as strong as Guardians. But, if we had, then we wouldn¡¯t have our new foes in the palm of our hand!¡±


    Morgan¡¯s smile softened, while she looked at a certain section of the city.


    Undoubtably, she knew where our liege currently was¡­ and only whilst looking his way did she seem akin to a normal young woman.


    Not a ferocious creature filled to the brim with talent, intellect, and drive.


    ¡°I wonder if he¡¯ll let me rule over the Merchants? Their new camps may be the key to solving our manpower shortage.¡±


    Nevermind.


    Morgan is not normal in the slightest.

 V8: Chapter 6

    V8: Chapter 6


    ¡­


    How do you quantify faith?


    No, I¡¯m not going into a tangent again, like I did with bricks.


    I want the minimum standard required for somebody to be considered a worshipper of something, so that I can get as many worshippers as possible for the Nature Goddess I¡¯ve got sleeping in my basement.


    In-game, it acted much like culture, but you can fuck yourself over by hosting smaller religions alongside your main ones. You can make temples, shrines, and districts and dedicate them to the religion that you want. Upkeep sent their way is used to boost their popularity through alms giving, charity work, and other such things that make them appealing to the masses. When it first came out, the wealthier, happier, and more educated your cities were, the slower the spread of religion in them, leading to less faith, and less progress in going through the religion tree¡¯s upgrades and benefits.


    That led to players making horrific slum cities with only bare necessities and no trade connections to the rest of the country. If everyone is sick, hungry, uneducated, and poor, then of course the people providing them with services and support would be lauded and praised. In fact, if you made the crime go up, and go out of your way to build things that lowered happiness, increased industrial pollution, and increased rates of sickness, the faith generated by the city in question would skyrocket even further. Everyone on the forums called them Cult Hives, stashed them in the worst regions to develop, and used them to print out Faith to invest into their religion trees.


    The devs saw what we did and¡­ gave us the option to turn it off, have it stay as-is, or enhance it with even better modifiers when the city is at maximum misery.


    Gotta make the pure-misery, industry-only, and no-amenities build competitive somehow.


    Anyway, I was wondering which mode I was working off of in order to efficiently invigorate the nature goddess locked up in my basement.


    Do I need to make a Cult Hive stashed away in my city?


    Can I just make a law for everyone to go to a temple of the goddess of nature once a week and pray there for an hour and enjoy a free lunch?


    Or, maybe, I had to find something in the middle, plop down the buildings, and let things go naturally in order to just generate the average amount of Faith?


    Pfft.


    Lol, no.


    I want my religion tech tree filled out before the game ends.


    So, it¡¯s either slum cities designed to be tests for the faithful, or mandatory weekly visits to the church to participate in a gathering and get food at the end.


    Devs?


    Do me a solid and please make generating Faith easy.


    ¡­


    I was fairly sure the head ¡®clown¡¯ of the Smiling Tyrants changed every time I met them.


    ¡°Oh, greetings beloved master of the descendants. May I interest you in some delightful desserts, a dance, or perhaps a drama?¡± Each offer from the clown with a porcelain mask and jester¡¯s hat came with a burst of magical imagery. The dessert was two cakes, then those cakes turned into cake figures that danced, and then the drama was when one figure started strangling one of the pair after rushing in from stage left. ¡°Whatever it is that you desire, the wonderful, amazing, and grand circus of the Smiling Tyrant shall provide to the best of our ability!¡±


    Dealing with these guys is pretty simple.


    Be the straight man, since they¡¯re the jokesters.


    ¡°I¡¯ve found a goddess. I believe she needs the faith of the masses to reach full power. I want to understand how that works to ensure she¡¯s as strong as possible.¡± The office of the head clown in charge was a small tent inside a larger tent which they called their mansion. The rooms were all tents, and in various states ranging from being neatly on the floor, to floating in a lazy orbit, to being suspended by a series of pulleys and ropes precariously in the very center. Stepping inside the tent/mansion was pretty much like walking right into a deranged art exhibit that combined stage props with magic. ¡°Give me what I ask for, and I¡¯ll give you a city and its surrounding province.¡±


    The various villages and towns I founded a while back were now finally crossing the threshold and becoming cities. They exploited the tiles that the capital couldn¡¯t reach, and once a threshold was crossed you could give them a district and specialize them. The biggest cities can have four districts, which was half the amount of a full-fledged capital city. In essence, I was going to move the Smiling Tyrant district from my capital to a city and seeing if they have more past their in-game questline, which usually ended after giving them a district and they allowed you to spam perpetual festivals around your Empire for practically a permanent boost to happiness and amenities and espionage.


    Besides the Iterants, the Smiling Tyrant cultists were my best sources of outside information, since their followers travelled found work across the continent and gathered information as they did. If you hire a band of musicians for your gala, they¡¯re probably Smiling Tyrant cultists. If you¡¯re watching a play, the actors and staff are probably clown cultists.


    Hell, if you¡¯re getting catering for your fancy party and hiring servers?


    Again, probably undercover clowns.


    Giving them a city and upgrading again will probably have them completely infiltrate the entertainment and service centers of all the civilizations.


    It¡¯ll be a horrible world for people who fear clowns.


    Anyway, back to the very important conversation.


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    ¡°Oh? Finally! A queen for the jester to prank and to bewilder! Oh, what a glorious day! A pantheon will arise and our Laughing Lord will no longer have to shoulder the burden and return to being a trickster, fool, and jester!¡± The head clown fluttered around the room striking poses. They ranged from with one leg aloft with hands framing their face to cheering silently with arms spread wide. A full circuit in the room took just a few seconds, and used my blind spots to naturally appear posed as I tracked them. Neat. They finished by lying on their desk with both feet in the air and chin propped up on both hands, like a schoolgirl gossiping to a friend on a school night. ¡°Which goddess did you find? The lovely mother of nature? The fierce and feisty goddess of war? Or, perhaps, the gloomiest goddess of them all: death?¡±


    Should I be surprised about this sudden dump of information?


    Yeah.


    Am I?


    No.


    The Smiling Tyrant¡¯s followers are the only religion that accepted every other religion. Of course, then, it was reasonable to assume that there was a doctrinal reason behind that.


    What better reason than them knowing that other deities existed and they didn¡¯t want to fight?


    ¡°The goddess we found has profound effects on her surroundings.¡± ¡°I leaned forward in my chair and did my best to play the straight man in this scene. They won¡¯t do anything silly to me, if being completely serious in my current scene was comedic already. ¡°Flora and fauna both grow quickly. It may be a war goddess that¡¯s very good at providing logistical support, but given her physiology is like a Children of the Elm¡¯s instead of the Conqueror, I reckon she¡¯s the nature goddess.¡±


    ¡°Ah, the comeliest and the most mothering of all the goddesses, then! Roused from her slumber with the Children of the Elm she must be, and be given a land to call her own.¡± The head clown rolled onto their back and jumped onto their feet, doing a little pirouette midair and executing a bow before standing imperiously on their desk like an orator with one hand on their chest and the other outstretched. I made sure to take a sip of tea while they did. Exactly while they were doing the spin. Comedy is all about timing. ¡°Those that remain of the Children of the Elm will flock to her, and will finally find kindness and love in their hearts! Let us grant her a grand garden and retainers, before garbing her in white and dedicated her to you as swiftly as possible!¡±


    I raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°My hand in marriage demands a lot in exchange. Is it necessary for me to marry her for her to support my cause?¡±


    The head clown promptly fell back off their desk, onto their chair which broke apart in an instant, and to a sudden chaotic clash of noise.


    There was a badum-tss in the cacophony.


    ¡°Egads! Could it be that the goddess of nature has not yet taken the heart of our King of Wisdom!? If she cannot suffice, then¡­ who possibly can!?¡± The head clown feigned being faint, and someone reached through the tent¡¯s wall to fan them with a comically small hand fan. Again, the timing was good. Once I got a look, the joke ended, and the head clown was back to business. ¡°Can love not pierce the mind of logic our king has? Must everything be for the sake of the nation?¡±


    I didn¡¯t hesitate.


    ¡°Of course, it is the least I can do in return for what I have been given.¡±


    The light atmosphere faded as the head clown turned to face me and took off their mask.


    A pale visage, but heavily scarred, looked at me with striking green eyes, blonde hair, and long ears.


    The Smiling Tyrant cult took in followers from every race, but as was in the lore of the game, they were the outcasts of the Children of the Elm. Those who didn¡¯t want to perform genocide upon the rest of the world. Probably the tour guides and the front-facing staff portion of the nature reserve maintenance race developed by the Ancients. Or, you know, just genetic offshoots that grew past their demented dedication to nature.


    ¡°Oh, King of Wisdom, none doubt your commitment to the nation. If you desire to follow your heart¡¯s desires, it would not go amiss.¡± They were also a bunch of theatre kids that decided to maintain culture and literature as much as possible. The head clown took a seat behind the desk and levelled their gaze at me. Again, the head clown¡¯s an elf. Them is the safest word to use. ¡°The prophesized mother of our people will do as you bid without the bindings of matrimony. However, in all that remains of our scripts and memories, is that the goddess was to be bound to the Ancients through love.¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°They were designed to be bound and to follow orders, then. Like slaves. And, I¡¯m sure all here know how I view such things. I want no part of such a union.¡± It was easy to say. I found it disgusting. Imagine being made to do something, essentially a tool or asset, and being bound to whoever made you through ¡®love.¡¯ It sounded thoroughly fucked up. ¡°I wish to marry and improve my nation through my union, yes, but I refuse to take part in such a binding. Even if it is composed and intended by the Ancients, I refuse it.¡±


    Also, there was a caveat to that binding, besides it being already fucked up.


    I¡¯d rather threaten this goddess to do what I want by holding the remaining Children of the Elm hostage than ¡®bind¡¯ her to me through ¡®love.¡¯ Why? Because, from the in-game text, the connection goes both ways. The goddess influences the leader. Hell, the goddess can replace the leader and usurp them. They have their own stats and leader perks and everything. The leader character becomes a background wife/husband of the goddess, while the player ruler through the new deity for their nation and with a new national tech tree and everything.


    Good way to get a new Leader, if you¡¯ve messed up raising yours, or if their perks aren¡¯t good for endgame.


    But back to talking to the leader of the Smiling Tyrant.


    ¡°Then, I believe that you must choose the more arduous path. The path where you and the goddess shall become allies rather than partners.¡± The head of the Smiling Tyrants bowed their heads at my statement. If they approved or didn¡¯t approve, they didn¡¯t show it. In all honesty, the mask had more emotion. They were kinda creepy without it. ¡°She will demand much from you, but she will find her own path, and understand that all is being done to save us from what remains of the foes that felled the Ancients.¡±


    ¡°Just like everyone else, then. That¡¯s fine.¡± I got up and offered my hand to them and they accepted. Hm. Yeah, this was the same person I met years ago. The changes and costume and demeanor got me, but the handshake was the same. Or, maybe, that¡¯s just what they wanted me to think. ¡°Thank you for your help. I¡¯ll contact you soon about making a more concrete plan to handle the situation.¡±


    A faint smile formed on their face at my words.


    ¡°Contacting me ahead of time to schedule a moment to plan? My goodness, King of Wisdom, you lead quite the exciting, spontaneous life.¡±


    ¡°I do my best. Thank you for your time.¡± I gave a chuckle before turning away to leave with Ayah. Before I left, though, something else came to mind. ¡°Hey, according to your myths and legends, how should the mother-goddess of your people and nature look?¡±


    Basically, I did my best to ask about her lack of curves as politely as possible¡ª


    ¡°Voluptuous beyond belief with a chest that could provide for a nursery entire¡ª


    ¡°Got it. We¡¯re done here.¡±


    The head of the Smiling Tyrant chuckled and waved my way, while I excused myself. Figures they¡¯ll take the opportunity to insinuate something.


    At the very least, I confirmed that the Goddess of Nature wasn¡¯t lore accurate now and needed any help before being roused from her slumber. I knew the devs would never cave to the demands and whims of people who don¡¯t even play the game. And, of course, the fact that the people who play the game are degenerates who¡¯ll never let go of their ideals.


    Walking out onto the Smiling Tyrant¡¯s dedicated district, I came to a decision.


    ¡°Have the settlement we prepared to set aside ready to receive the goddess. We¡¯ll give her an isolated garden and surround her with budding adherents.¡± I¡¯ll keep the religion that provides happiness and espionage to my nation in my capital, and have the goddess outside. She can go ahead and rule a little city and grow in power on a short leash (translation: within bombing range). ¡°Find trustworthy Children of the Elm and offer them resettlement there, too.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty.¡± Ayah bowed, and I knew that it¡¯d be done.


    Now, it¡¯s time to prep to see everyone again for the celebration of our victory over the Death Lord.

 V8: Chapter 7

    V8: Chapter 7


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ¡­


    In block formation, the men marched towards the Citadel to the cheering of crowds and flying banners. Overhead flights of flying horses soared over the whole city in v-formations, much like ducks. Shops were bought out for the day and offered their wares to anyone who could stand the long queues. Each unit held their unit standard proudly at the front, each one gleaming in half-plate over fatigues and uniforms, and each unit showcased themselves to the best of their ability. They held pride in themselves, each single one, as they were victors loved by their people.


    And, of course, Jack made use of it.


    The Conquerors, Children of the Elm, and mages marched in their formations between blocks of Descendant Infantry.


    The Conquerors were well-liked. They traded with us and they lost their Citadel due to the machinations of Demons. At most, some bemoaned they took on ranks in the army that could¡¯ve gone to their own people. Their inclusion into our ranks and our society was an easy one, especially as they kept to themselves and their honor extended to all peoples.


    The Children of the Elm¡¯s inclusion as reconnaissance in force had been met with more distaste. Even with those allowed in thoroughly vetted, and many of them working for years now alongside our people, distrust and prejudice remained. However, those that we took in were trained well. They marched with honor and pride in their accomplishments, and knew to avoid conflict, as we turned their long-lived nature towards waiting for the day that they would be fully accepted. That was decades in the future, if not centuries, but they saw that as quick nonetheless.


    Users of magic outside Academy lands suffered from misinformation campaigns. The Academy made it so that any mages born outside would be given up by their people freely. They told all that magic was dangerous and spontaneous, as if someone could turn into a bomb overnight by sheer chance. They fomented fear, enough fear so that any mage born would be pushed out towards the Academy, and the Academy would welcome them with open arms. Many of those who lived in our lands were gathered from territories that fell victim to those campaigns, and the distrust and fear remained for those who could use magic.


    However, Jack interspersed them between the spearmen, the shining flying cavalry trotting along, and the riflemen. Everyone cheered for everyone, as it was easier, and in doing so they all crossed the threshold towards beginning to accept the others. They would associate that cheering moment with free drink and free food, as well as other celebrations that take place the rest of the day, and go to sleep with memories of a great victory won against a horrible foe.


    ¡°It¡¯s magnificent, isn¡¯t it, grandfather? Once you see the truth of it, you simply cannot look away.¡± Morgan entered my hidden alcove without announcing herself. I cast my gaze towards her and she gave a smile and friendly wave. ¡°I told Gilbert to go into the Merchant¡¯s lands and get a better look at things over there. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve sent some of the new aspirants with him. The ones I don¡¯t need to look after.¡±


    I gave her a nod and gestured for her to take the chair I prepared for my chief spy and doppelganger. She readily accepted and smiled at the procession.


    I¡¯ve only seen her smile since she¡¯s arrived here in this land.


    My daughter¡¯s daughter had been a quiet young woman in the library or on the training grounds taking in everything and measuring everyone¡­ save for her family.


    Hm.


    No.


    Not even we were spared.


    She was raised well.


    ¡°I was fortunate to find the child when I attacked the caravan. Fortunate even more that it was the day he freed himself from slavery. For the longest time, I kept watch over him thinking him some sort of plant by my hidden rivals¡­ but, instead, he was simply a true genius born to this world.¡±


    ¡°Probably a bit like Ilych and has some faint connections to the Ancients, though he¡¯s much more in control. Perhaps it''s what she¡¯s intended to have, but the stores of knowledge are inaccessible to her and she¡¯s limited to personal prediction?¡± Morgan theorized and took hold of a bowl of fruit and observed it all with a faint smile. Sturdy crops from the seed vault found by Riegert produced hardy, strong fruits even when accelerated with magic. A single tree yielded a bushel a week of red, sweet apples that kept for three months, if properly stored in a relatively cool environment. ¡°Or, perhaps, they¡¯re two halves of one another. One is for combat and warfare while the other is for stewardship and the building of nations.¡±


    ¡°It would be wise to keep the two apart, otherwise there¡¯d be too many people with far too much power. The Ancients do enjoy keeping balance.¡± I mused, and Morgan hummed, while taking bites of the apple. As always, she was dogged and determined. Within a few bites, she was at the core and wiping the juices from her lips and face. My daughter would say she¡¯s lacking in grace when she let down her guard. I believed Morgan knew that being messy and imperfect showcased a weakness that allowed others to lower their guard around her. ¡°At least, those who did not experiment on themselves and turned into the creatures we now face across the world. You¡¯ve read Riegert¡¯s reports and the copies of the findings of the Forgers?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I had nothing else to do whilst traveling with the army, besides getting the measure of the aspirants, scoping out the officer corps for corruption, and playing with Rita and Ilych. Plenty of time to read the reports.¡±  She crossed a leg over to rest on a knee and leaned into her chair¡¯s armrest. How much of it was a ploy to make me trust her more? How much of it was true? I chuckled. No one could¡¯ve asked for a better student than Morgan. If they were the finest teacher, of course. ¡°The Sahuagin are the most interesting. The parasite that they use to control minds is immensely intriguing, though their warforms are fine replacements for Guardians. We should investigate both, while the Forgers run around like elephants.¡±


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    ¡°The Forgers have recently noted sightings of a higher class of the creature protected by far larger war forms.¡± I took the envelope with the information from my lapel and handed it to my granddaughter. She raised an eyebrow and took it gingerly. Before us the procession came to a crescendo. Jack was on a floating stage waving to the crowd. Rigert, Ilych, and Rita were at the forefront with new medals on their lapels along with other soldiers who proved their worth in battle. ¡°It exhibited the ability to control weaker-willed minds at range, and its body-guards are snail-like creatures that inhabit large suits of shell-like metal and wield devastating weaponry. It took a whole squadron of heavy Forger infantry with Mage support to kill five.¡±


    ¡°¡­Both creatures sound too troublesome to keep alive. Chemical would probably work on a colony of organisms inhabiting a single shell. The elder creature should just be killed. The Iterants are unaffected?¡±


    ¡°They are.¡±


    ¡°We should intervene and fetch corpses of those creatures for study, then. I¡¯ll ask for our sake. Our king will probably have something better in mind.¡± Morgan stretched and grunted with contentment before nodding to herself. She was relaxing. I was aware of the knife she within tenths of seconds in her reach, and so was she. Good. Her guard ready to be raised up, as it should always be. ¡°What did you find, then, grandfather? Riegert found the Stymphalian Harpies, so that leaves only one foe left, correct?¡±


    I took a moment to consider my next words, and she took note immediately.


    ¡°That terrible?¡±


    ¡°I thought myself prepared, but it was more than I imagined. Mortals are slaves to the Sahuagin, sacrifices for the Demons, and prey to Stymphalians¡­ but the Ascendant see us as resources. Materials to shape and turn into what they wish.¡± I closed my eyes and I saw it. The fields of pulsating metal-flesh that stretched from horizon to horizon. Metal veins flowed like roots across the ground filled with black ichor. Mortals kept in pits where food and water, heaved from buckets by lumbering machines with oversized legs, backwards arms with claws, and pure red eyes all over their forms. We looked upon it from afar, swaddled in glamours and illusions by our mages, and beheld true horror. ¡°Our flesh and forms are nothing but organic materials for them to use to control their technology and magics.¡±


    We brought an Iterants along for their ability to sketch, though Jack had warned us to be mindful of how many images we should have them capture. I had thought him jesting. How could the steel minds and hearts of the Iterants be swayed? Ayah looked upon the brutal calculus required to win the coming battle, of how many needed to be born, and how many needed to be educated outside the reach of their own parents and accepted it without an ounce of remorse. Then, I looked upon the works of the Ascendants and bid the Iterants under my commands to only commit only to memory what I ask of them.


    Even then, they still asked permission to forget all that they have seen on the journey.


    The Iterants we brought along died the moment we returned, and their faces were filled with gratitude when I gave permission.


    ¡°Here.¡± The sketches had been carved carefully onto slates prepared by the Alchemists guild. The slates could only be used by the Iterants, with their ability to turn the ends on of their fingers into dexterous scalpels. Used like chipping tools, the Iterants under my command engraved the horrors of what we saw onto the slates, turning them into molds. Molds that can be used to create printing plate blocks, and present to the rest of the continent what we had to unite against. ¡°This is their average warform.¡±


    Morgan raised an eyebrow at the creature.


    ¡°The Ancients cursed them quite heavily.¡± Morgan observed, and I grunted. The Ascendants were once biomechanical beings of towering stature and beauty. From what little I could pry from Jack, as he pretended to know things through tomes that didn¡¯t exist, they believed themselves the next step of life. Their minds crystalline, bodies composed of forged flesh and metal, and souls housed in some great work like the source of all magics. They struck first to devastating effect, but the Ancients persevered and crippled them. ¡°The true Ascendants are in the central chassis, are they not? That armored coffin between those gigantic legs and arms. A child can barely fit in there.¡±


    I nodded and took out the last and riskiest of the sketches we took.


    Morgan¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡°Poor bastards.¡± Pity filled her voice, and I would¡¯ve nodded, if not for what I had seen them do. ¡°In their place, I would¡¯ve ended it already.¡±


    The Ancients put foul poxes upon their whole lineage, corrupted their metallic limbs to always rot, and bound them to the material realm. I saw statues in their city of what they once were. Towering humanoid figures, both beautiful and terrible to behold, but now we both looked upon a picture of one being extracted for care by the decrepit thralls they kept.


    The Ascendant was like a living tumor, barely wrapped up by skin, with one misshapen eye, half-fused mouth, slits for a nose and grotesque protrusions for ears. It had two limbs, barely able to grasp or feed itself, and it wallowed in its own excretions as soon as it left its housing within the greater shell composed of magic and technology that they maintained. However, in its singular eye was one emotion: hate. After its body was stood upright and it was placed back in its chassis, it killed the thralls that it commanded to aid it.


    ¡°They haven¡¯t ended it. Their lands are filled with excavation sites, mines, and production. They take mortals and use them as parts and pieces for their machines, forge metal into pieces that they need, and they have been researching feverishly all this time to improve their bodies.¡± The Ascendant were going to be our fiercest foes, even against the others that held the rest of the world. ¡°They have fast-firing cannons, magical apparatuses that can disintegrate stone, and each one is a self-contained war machine. Barring some form of damage, they never need to leave their bodies.¡±


    Without a doubt, they were superior foes, each one a powerful, magical knight with great speed and fast-firing projectiles. The various chemical weapons that we had and perhaps even our incendiary weapons, would not function well against their defenses. They can outrun and outrange our formations, ravage our lands like packs of wolves with heavy firepower, and retreat before we can catch them.


    Morgan, however, already grasped their possible weakness.


    ¡°They¡¯re a problem if we let them get past the mountain range.¡± She analyzed the threat, considered where they were, and nodded as she realized what lay in the path of the Ascendant. Mountain ranges filled with fortresses, which were to soon be even more heavily reinforced and armed in the coming years. ¡°Our guns might be slower, but with enough of them and with kill boxes, we can stop anything short of an invasion of thousands¡­ and I doubt they can muster that much. If they¡¯re like that, their rate of reproduction will be barely above replacement.¡±


    A scowl formed on her lips, though, as she finished dissecting the new foe.


    ¡°They won¡¯t accept this as a reason to unite. If everyone here worked together, if we had every Citadel, then none of this will be a problem.¡± A scowl stretched across her face and she shook her head with a huff. She inherited my temper, or at least pretended to. Whatever was the case, I knew her frustration with the other Citadel-holders was real. ¡°Grandfather, another expedition out into those lands isn¡¯t what we need. The resources of another expedition are better spent bringing low the confederation that¡¯s sprouted on half the continent.¡±


    I had to chuckle.


    Even my perfect granddaughter can be caught off guard, then.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We planted the seeds years ago when we realized the Wardens could never be brought into the fold.¡± Morgan turned to me so rapidly that her glasses went astray and her mouth opened while her eyes widened. She must¡¯ve known that we had plans, but I was sure that Jack only entrusted myself and Gilbert with the whole of it. ¡°In a few seasons, High Justiciar Khalai will die, and a religious schism will split the Wardens in half. We will take everything in the madness that follows.¡±


    Ah.


    I can ask my Iterant bodyguard to sketch how she looked right now, can¡¯t I?

 V8: Chapter 8

    V8: Chapter 8


    ¡­


    In-game, it takes a lot of investment to kill a leader off.


    I mean, it makes sense.


    Leader characters don¡¯t exactly grow on trees. Even with DLCs, there¡¯s six tops for each Faction. If you change leaders, the whole playstyle of a player would need to change, because there¡¯s no overlap between them. The bonuses and debuffs they give across their civilization demand the change. If you lose your Faith-based leader dedicated to boosting how much Faith your religious districts give, those religious districts will suddenly have higher maintenance costs for lower Faith outputs, and that¡¯s without considering the loss of leader-based events, artifacts, buildings, and units. Whoever you¡¯ve got next, you need to rebuild for, so that you can have a chance at winning.


    If you don¡¯t, you¡¯re just going to lose.


    So, of course, assassinations through espionage are hard as hell to pull off. There are dozens of technologies that just give bonuses to resisting assassination to boost defenses against it. You¡¯ve researched public libraries and built them? Have a 2.5% resist to assassination attempts for having slightly smarter citizenry. Sewers have been researched and built? 2.5% resist to assassination, since people aren¡¯t distracted by the smell of your cities. Any reason they can use, they slapped that on as a bonus, and called it a day.


    The Devs built resisting assassination attempts into the tech tree, so actually pulling off an assassination isn¡¯t a cheesy strategy but something worth shaking hands over. You pull it off in a multiplayer match is something people will laud you for after the game¡­ because it¡¯s just a massive pain in the ass. Pulling it off requires hours of planning, the RNG going your way with the right events and artifacts, and finally you need to shape the whole attempt with various other operations beforehand too. And, what do you get if you do everything right? For everything right, you get a twenty percent chance to succeed.


    One in five.


    Not only that, but all the while, you¡¯re rolling and acting against your enemy on their home territory on the espionage layer. If they researched policing and built it, they¡¯ll just auto-generate guards on the espionage layer that need to be avoided. If they have their own agents on the board, they¡¯ll have an easier time of finding you in their territory and uncovering the whole plot. Then, of course, there was the chance of the Agent just rolling poorly and getting caught by local forces. Everything is against the player trying to achieve it, while everything was in favor of the target.


    All for the sake of balance.


    I really hoped that I could hit that 1-in-5 chance, because I really, really didn¡¯t want to deal with the Wardens and their bullshit. Sure, endlessly reviving armies seems great to have on paper against the coming threats, but the Wardens are fucked in the head.


    How fucked in the head?


    They¡¯ll kill us all, even before finishing off the endgame threats, to save us from suffering.


    Yeah.


    They don¡¯t just offer the kool-aid, they¡¯re ready to kill you if you don¡¯t drink it. When the going gets tough, they just kill you and don¡¯t offer, either.


    So, they¡¯ve gotta go, before they sabotage our defense efforts and before they become massive pains in the ass.


    ¡­


    There are three things that need to happen before an assassination attempt takes place. One of them is optional, but most players consider it necessary, and I agreed and worked on it first. It was setting up another Leader to take the place of the current one. In multiplayer matches, you pick the one most opposite of the Leader your opponent currently has, so that they must rebuild and redevelop that much more. Doing it also ensured that you know what to build after the assassination takes place, since if you don¡¯t set the new Leader up, they¡¯ll just a random leader from their pool, or their faction automatically falls to their closest ally.


    Since Khalai is confederated with the Forgers, Merchants, and Guardians, that would be a terrible result, so it was imperative that I get to choose the next leader of the Wardens.


    It¡¯s easier than you think, since they¡¯re a bunch of religious fanatics.


    I just needed to find and invigorate the rival sect to the dominant one.


    In-game, the Wardens can go through a schism and even a full-on reformation. When everyone just comes back to life after dying, you can afford to have a civil war and not end your faction¡¯s chances at winning. But I was hoping to avoid the schism and facilitate the reformation instead. The reformation of the Wardens of the Caverns was usually player-selected, if they didn¡¯t want to go the route of endlessly spawning armies and fucking up their endgame framerate during the movement section.


    The Reformation Faction espoused extreme views in their society such as:


    People should have the right to decide whether they want die or not.


    We shouldn¡¯t throw ourselves into battle expecting to die. We should try to stay alive.


    And, finally, we should do our best to convince people to join our religion, but we shouldn¡¯t force them to.


    Yeah.


    I know.


    Pretty extreme religious views, right?


    Anyway, since the Reformation Leader was the only Leader that could possibly become an ally and get the Wardens off the path of suicide-cult, I searched for them while setting up the rest of the operations needed for the assassination attempt. Since the Reformation Leader was a randomized character every run, I had to look out for their small, budding movement instead of the person themselves.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I half-expected to find them half-dead from stoning outside a Warden city.


    Instead, Khanrow found three potential reformers running around the continent.


    ¡°Sitha. Former priestess of one of the first churches set up near the Warden¡¯s Citadel. Claimed the Wardens refused to help those who needed help without being part of their religion, officially denounced.¡± Khanrow sure had a great spy network. Sent him off to find one of the big threats, but he still managed to get the task of finding possible replacements of Khalai without any issue. Scary guy, honestly. ¡°Now travels around the continent in a caravan a thousand people strong. They offer blessings, miracles, and other alms of the Wardens¡¯ religion to all those in need. People are calling the path her journey is taking the Trail of Miracles.¡±


    A painted sketch made by an Iterant showcased Sitha. Long white hair, ebony skin, and brilliant blue eyes and wearing flowing silks¡­ whilst walking on water to a watching crowd in the coast.


    Yeah, she¡¯s got the messiah fame going on, but that¡¯s not all a Leader of a whole nation needs.


    ¡°Education level and ability?¡±


    ¡°Poorly educated. Raised by the Warden¡¯s Church. However, she has raised many who have recently perished on occasion. Bandits that attack her caravan perish and are revived regularly. No news of her rousing centuries-long dead Saints.¡± Khanrow delivered the information in a straightforward manner. The portraits of the three leader replacements were a step apart from each other. Thanks to the talents of the Iterants, they were practically photo-real.  He gestured at the portrait of Sitha with a grunt. ¡°A good backup option, if the latter two don¡¯t work.¡±


    ¡°I agree. Too conservative. Just a bit more alms isn¡¯t what we want. Whatever remains of the Warden¡¯s church after will have too much power over her, and we can just end up at step one. Let¡¯s move on.¡± Sitha sounded more like a light reset than a complete retooling. She was against the current doctrine of the Wardens, making her a good candidate to stop the Wardens from going full on genocide mode, but it sounded like the Wardens will just keep going full faith route and keep building up to their cultist fanatics ending. Not what I wanted. ¡°You said this one¡¯s more militant?¡±


    ¡°Riza of Clan Kalith, a lineage of paladins with strong political influence and wealth. They state that the theocracy does not suffice as an institution to rule over the Wardens, and that a militant arm and militant leaders must be raised to help guide the nation of the Wardens.¡± I was liking what I was hearing. This guy sounded like a terrible Leader for the Wardens. If they didn¡¯t play into their resurrection shtick, their armies become stupidly expensive because they can¡¯t just freely replenish them anymore, thanks to them being all speedy glass cannons. ¡°High Justiciar Khalai is in talks with their faction¡ª


    I cut Khanrow off there.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not happening then. Khalai¡¯s got probably got the guy wrapped around his finger. Or, maybe, Khalai¡¯s wrapped around his finger. Whichever¡¯s the case, we can¡¯t trust someone Khalai¡¯s spoken to. This guy¡¯s out.¡± Khalai¡¯s a strong diplomacy build. The raw diplomacy stat is probably maxed out. Given his various outfits, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s got all the artifacts needed to pump that stat up. At this stage of the game, he should be halfway through his perk tree, so it was possible he¡¯s got all the foundational diplomacy perks too. Morale buffs, lower chance of betrayal, and even converting spies. All those things were possible. ¡°Put him on the list for the decapitation strike after we hit their resurrection centers.¡±


    I call them resurrection centers, but they were also known as places of worship.


    Y¡¯know.


    Churches and such.


    Can¡¯t be helped, if I don¡¯t blow them up, whatever civil conflict pops up will have endless reinforcements for both sides.


    Don¡¯t want to deal with whatever comes out of that sort of slaughterhouse as an opponent.


    ¡°Very well. Then we only have two candidates. This one barely qualifies. Half-Warden with a Descendant Mother. Practicing head priest in Academy lands. Has denounced the main body of the church as forgetting him and his own.¡± The last option honestly made me blink. Khanrow noticed me staring at him. He sighs. ¡°Yes. The resemblance is uncanny.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just Khalai with some piercings and with black hair.¡± If Khalai went with the boy-princess-next-door-look, the third option was just Khalai from a highly conservative family and who was now rebelling. Silver ring piercing on the lip. Hoops in the ears and a stud in the nose along with a scowl and furrowed brow. In a nun outfit complete with habit, with slits on the sides of the short skirt to show off garters. In other words, depressed with daddy issues twink asthetic. If Khalai¡¯s the polyamarous icon, this one¡¯s the fix-me-please idol. ¡°Have you ever seen these two in the same room together?¡±


    ¡°We have. Typically, they yell at one another.¡± Bet a few degenerates would pay to watch that, even if they¡¯re only just yelling at one another and doing nothing else. Khanrow cleared his throat and plainly addressed the fact that I didn¡¯t believe I was looking at Khalai Goth Nun Ultra-Rare version.  ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to get a painting of such a meeting. Let¡¯s move on.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    ¡°Lisander was born in a mining house and was accepted into the clergy for his innate talents. He was sent to the lands taken by the Wardens from the Academy¡¯s lands along with his extended household, so that it could be exploited. Tensions began to arise when they focused on caring and protecting the people of the land, instead of focusing on exploiting it.¡±


    ¡°Are they actually doing it out of the goodness of their hearts, or are they trying to take it for themselves?¡±


    Khanrow nodded at my statement.


    ¡°Both and with Lisander as the leader of the rising faction. If nothing is done, I believe that they¡¯ll become a political power that contests against Khalai¡¯s people. A rising, influential province not beholden to the central pillar of the Warden Theocracy.¡±


    ¡°They can do it, because they have enough immigrants in their province not entirely bound to their culture and a lot of excess raw materials that they can sell off to surrounding territories.¡± There was probably more to this story. Some sort of rivalry that led to Lisander being sent off to the frontier along with the rest of his family and their supporters. However, from what we could see now, the opposition was obvious and they were working towards gaining more independence. If we left things alone, then this¡¯ll just end with Lisander and his family dead while Khalai¡¯s people stepped in and retook control. ¡°Sounds good. We¡¯ll start giving them our support. Quietly. We want them to move into the coming chaos like the heroes of yore.¡±


    ¡°Then, what of the first option? The Priestess Sitha?¡±


    ¡°Track her. Start inserting people to rise up her organization¡¯s ranks. Feel for her actual endgame. Prepare her for use. Maybe, as a third party coming in to make an even bigger mess, while Lisander and his separatist forces stay back until they can charge in.¡± Khanrow nodded and moved on from the portraits. Now, we both looked on the map of Khalai¡¯s lands. Since they were the last faction to start, and we have helped them out since the very beginning, we were able to make maps of everything and keep an eye on the goings on. We had merchants and open trade with them at the moment, so updates were still pretty common. Just as expected, most of the settlement areas were filled up, but there were no cities yet. The major population area was still their capital at the base of their Citadel.  Since they were wonder-focused, it made sense. Just extract materials and production from the outside, and funnel them all into the capital to build quickly. ¡°How¡¯s progress regarding the other stages of the plan?¡±


    The replacements coming in to replace Khalai was pretty much the last step.


    Before that we had to destabilize the whole country, foment unrest to the point of an uprising, and finally kill Khalai off.  Basically, create so much confusion and chaos that people cling to the first person who shows up with the ability to end the violence. Very complicated, lots of points of failure, and it may blow up in my face and have my whole nation condemned by the remaining factions. Thankfully, though, Khanrow had a lot of experience as a spy, no one knew that I had Iterants, and doing everything needed was a lot cheaper than running a war.


    So, I had the people, the funds, and the plan.


    Only time will tell if it all works, or just fucks things up, and I find myself with a crusade/jihad on my doorstep.


    Fun.

 V8: Chapter 9

    V8: Chapter 9


    ¡­


    If you have housing, if you have food, and if you have basic furnishings and clothes, what¡¯s the use of money?


    Why would people work?


    Surprisingly, the answer is to entertain themselves, buy things that they want rather than need, and spend very lavishly. Sure, there were some people who put in minimum effort, since they only wanted minimum things or pursued creative hobbies, but they were outliers. Most people got money, saw that they didn¡¯t have to worry about their living situation, and spent the whole paycheck every week.


    So, between the sales tax and the income tax, we were effectively making thirty percent of each person¡¯s paycheck back.


    The whole scheme was Ayah¡¯s idea, and that was just the tail end of the whole economic system that I saw as its boss.


    I¡¯d like to take credit for it, but in all honesty, I didn¡¯t understand  it completely.


    I mean, I gave some ideas and advice, but overall it was all the Ancient Administrator¡­ and I probably didn¡¯t have an economic disaster thanks to Ayah.


    ¡°With everything taken into account after bonuses have been paid out to the soldiers, along with other budgetary concerns for the rest of the year, we will be entering the next year with a slight surplus.¡± Ayah finished presenting the overview. Everyone else present in the fiscal council were Iterants. Since their introduction, they excelled in various roles of the state-owned companies I set up, and they naturally rose to prominence. I could safely say that I¡¯ve successfully removed humanity from the arduous position of bureaucracy and administration. ¡°I recommend using this surplus to invest in expansions of the steel foundries, especially with recent success of the locomotive tests.¡±


    I knew better than to rely on the other Iterants to say anything to Ayah.


    They were still scared of her.


    ¡°How are our reserves of currency looking? Can we meet it if everyone turned it in?¡± Money is printed out in society, but we weren¡¯t a fiat currency. Instead, I followed the path that the game set, to make a universal currency. The currency effectively represents usage time on the fabricators of the Citadel. In-game, setting your Citadel to produce money was effectively buying off currency from your citizenry, letting them produce goods, luxuries, and furnishings from the Citadel instead of you. ¡°You haven¡¯t mentioned debt, Ayah.¡±


    Ayah nodded at my words.


    ¡°That is because there is currently no debt. Should every citizen in our nation turn in every coin that they have, we will be able to manufacture all their needs before the next period of pay.¡± If you went negative in the game in gold, you lose out on production and if you get zero production output, then it gets turned on food, until you reach a 0 balance. If you ever reach that point in a competitive match, you may as well tap out, because you¡¯re not catching up with someone who¡¯s been in the black while you¡¯ve been in the red. ¡°This, of course, has stalled build up of non-state businesses. There are many promising ventures currently available that we can invest our surplus into or allow to take loans, which will give us profit.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s best reserved for later. For now, let¡¯s focus on agriculture.¡± Ayah¡¯s brow furrowed at my words, but waited for me to explain. I did so as calmly as I could with everyone¡¯s attention on me. These were a bunch of living computers. However, I did notice something. They weren¡¯t used to making redundancies. They just moved forward. I had to step in lots of times to create stockpiles and increase output of base materials for supplies. In essence, they ran a tight ship with little waste, but that also meant no room for failure. And, failure is pretty much a part of life, let alone in a world as eventful as the one we currently inhabited. ¡°The locomotives are fine and we¡¯ll need more steel, but I don¡¯t wish to invest too heavily in there. We have control over the Ancient¡¯s tunnel network and that is more defensible and better for logistics.¡±


    ¡°But investing in more foundries for steel can also be used to manufacture more machines, produce frames for stronger structures, weapons, and more.¡± Ayah made a good point, and it was a good point. ¡°We have the materials in excess from our mines that are lying unused. Even as mere ingots, it can all be used.¡±


    Huh, well that took me a moment to consider.


    Ayah most likely picked up on its  own weakness, since its proposal for making steel now sounded like stockpiling resources.


    I¡¯ll argue for my views then.


    ¡°I see. Then we¡¯re somewhat on the similar page. I wish to create stockpiles to utilize should something occur. For example, having an excess of food in production is always preferable, since we can turn all excess to rations or preserve them in storehouses. Food is needed by all, and further investment can see innovation and increases in output for various crops.¡± I leaned forward while arguing my case. Everyone relaxed a little. They knew that I wasn¡¯t about to bulldoze my idea through. I could, but I preferred not to waste political power so easily. It¡¯s always better keep that resource locked up tight and used only when needed. Also, I was happy to see Ayah and the Iterants improving. ¡°It will also be more effective, as it¡¯s cheaper to invest into and more versatile. The more plants we study, the more foodstuffs we grow from the vaults where the Goddess of Life was founded, the higher the likelihood we find assets that we can use in the future. Steel ingots are needed and versatile, but the investment is higher, and the usages lesser.¡±


    Ayah listened intently to my argument, before responding with its own.


    ¡°It is true that we have many secrets to unlock from the Seed Vault, but we are already set to discover them all within a year. Not only that, but we are expected to double the amount of food we produce yearly. Even with our growing population, even with all our excess storage from the famine, if we produce more food, it will be wasted.¡± Ayah asserted, and I was sure that it would be able to provide me with the numbers and statistics later. I couldn¡¯t call it out right now, since it was unprepared. This wasn¡¯t like a virtual meeting back in my old life, where some numbers were just there to be presented. ¡°However, steel will be needed in truly vast amounts in the coming decades. Steel for guns, for war machines, and even buildings. We plan on building massive manufactories the size of whole villages, yes, but these smaller works can still give us more insight, more training, and more output until those facilities are online.¡±


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    With that statement, I raised my hand.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough and I am convinced. The excess funds we have will be diverted to steel production.¡± Ayah smiled and gave a small bow at my words, while some light applause resounded across the meeting room. I¡¯ll ask for the details and plans later. No need to rob it of it thunder by making demands in front of everyone. Ayah didn¡¯t ¡®win¡¯ an argument against me. It moved to convince me that its plan would be better, and it succeeded. ¡°What¡¯s next on the agenda?¡±


    I looked over my shoulder, as did everyone else, towards the Iterant present solely to record the minutes of the meeting who sat beside the transcriber.


    ¡°Workforce expansion to accommodate the increase in educated laborers, your majesty.¡±


    The topic would¡¯ve honestly bored me to death in my previous life, but now it was honestly exciting. It was the fruits of my labors, investing heavily into residential districts and education districts early in the game, was now paying off with lots of skilled workers, while also having enough population that I didn¡¯t have to worry about filling basic laborer jobs with raw numbers. Slowly, but surely, my civilization was getting some breathing room, while also keeping people happy, docile, and obedient.


    It only took years of planning and preparation and removing regular people from the management position.


    Was I setting myself up for an AI rebellion?


    If I treated the Iterants like garbage, sure, but I paid them what they¡¯re worth, gave them vacation hours, and treated them like loyal citizens.


    If they betray me, despite being given everything they¡¯d ask for to prevent that rebellion event, then my defeat would be set in stone anyway.


    So, I¡¯m just going to go ahead and treat the Iterants nicely, while trusting them to not stab me in the back simply because they¡¯re not made of meat.


    Who knows?


    Maybe, that¡¯s all that¡¯s necessary for them to stay loyal and content in their role in society!


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    ¡°If nothing is done, the Iterants will break out in riots across the land.¡±


    I paused in my pouring of soup at Ayah¡¯s statement.


    ¡°That is quite the statement to make.¡± We were enjoying ourselves in one of the parks commissioned by our king. With reconstruction ongoing, and with the city expanding, he stated that many lost the ability to easily access nature. With that in mind, several plots of land all over the city were allocated to communal gardens that produced food, and which held contests for fine flowers. Bushes and trees were maintained by the state, but the most beautiful and abundant portions of the land were tended to by those who had a passion for growing plants. Many spent time after work in such places, simply eating meals as we did. ¡°Why do you think so?¡±


    ¡°They expected punishment and received compassion. Instead of endless work and servitude for the failures of their ancestors, they are considered valued citizenry carefully husbanded and placed in positions of power. Many would say that they are receiving preferential treatment.¡± Ayah explained the matter stoically, as if she was not stating that a rebellion could take place and involve the most capable of our citizenry. Those who were regularly the most capable, the hardest working, and each a living weapon.  She took a measured sip of the broth I prepared to eat with our meal. ¡°They venerate him. They find the contributions of their fellow citizenry lacking, especially with what lies ahead. Slowly, they are beginning to believe that the rest of the citizenry are unworthy of the King of Wisdom.¡±


    I considered my words carefully.


    ¡°They are being driven to madness by devotion?¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Imagine yourself in the place. Countless years spent knowing of the failures of your people. Of the betrayal that they committed, while you remain housed and protected for a chance at redemption. All your life, you waited for that moment, ready to break apart for redemption, and instead you are given this.¡± Ayah gestured around us. The capital city of our land was unrivaled by any other. It teamed with life, with industry, yet the streets were clean, water was pure, and sickness was nowhere to be found. People walked in the night beneath gas-lit lamps, unafraid of the shadows in alleys, and greeted one another with smiles. In this city alone, one in ten people were Iterants, who posed as migrants coming into the city when in truth they formed as full adults from cores created by mature variants of their people. ¡°You are given purpose, treated well, and handled with care. You wish to work more, to prove your devotion, and to protect your new liege¡­ but you are constrained by the limits of those around you. The normal peoples who are not willing to give everything to your lord and protector.¡±


    I shook my head after considering Ayah¡¯s words.


    ¡°That is slavery but with bonds of deluded devotion rather than iron.¡±


    Ayah raised an eyebrow my way, and if felt my face slightly color beneath her gaze.


    Morgan¡¯s words regarding worshipping our king like a god came to the forefront of my mind, and how I did my utmost to distance myself from such thoughts.


    ¡°It is as you say. They suborn themselves to him and see all who do not as lesser. It is a cult¡¯s method of thinking, and it will only be so long until they become one.¡± Ayah stated simply. She looked upon me with a firm gaze. This was a matter of immense importance, despite my embarrassment. ¡°So, I wish to know how you avoided that path when you were so devoted. I would like to work towards preventing the Iterants from becoming so slavishly devoted that they would ruin the nation.¡±


    I considered her words, and my own feelings, before answering.


    ¡°It is¡­ difficult to not see him as someone to be worshipped, but it is more difficult to see him alone. I realized that by worshipping him, I did not seek to emulate him. I lowered myself and decided that I could not reach him.¡± Perhaps, it was after seeing Morgan act alone for so long that did it. Though our king surrounded himself with others and listened to them, when he acted his back was much like Morgan¡¯s. Alone and solitary against the entirety of the world. Peerless and indomitable, but still alone, and without others to rely upon. ¡°I do not wish for such a fate to befall him. No matter how difficult it is, I wish to emulate him and become worthy of standing beside him and lifting his burdens with him. Not push him upward, until he faces weights not one alone can carry.¡±


    I understood why they worshipped him. I came from a people that spat upon the hospitality of hosts, who sought to kill all others as they deemed them lesser, and who planned to destroy a nation that offered them mercy. When I realized what I came from, I harbored a great loathing for myself, and I believed that service and loyalty were the only ways to absolve myself. However, I lowered myself by doing that. I declared myself incapable and unable, and only a servant, and never a peer or equal.


    I left the King of Wisdom, Jack, to stand alone.


    When I realized that, I did my utmost to change.


    I hoped that was enough to help Ayah.


    The Ancient Administrator was quiet for a long time, before she finally nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll convey that message. It should work with the vast majority of the Iterants. Some, of course, will disagree and subordinate themselves completely¡­ but that may simply be through personal preference.¡± Ayah chuckled and turned away from me. A sad smile formed on her face. ¡°You¡¯re very right, though. Sometimes, even I feel subordinate to him, despite the power he vested in me. Often, I must catch myself and force myself to run after him, as well.¡±


    Her words were comforting to hear.


    It was nice to know I was not alone in my aim to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jack.

 V8: Chapter 10

    V8: Chapter 10


    ¡­


    I think I accidentally destroyed the family unit.


    How did I accidentally get rid of one of the most basic societal units?


    Apparently, it was because I made it super convenient to not have one.


    The childcare facilities are a future societal upgrade that becomes available once the various apocalyptic scenarios start rolling in. The various crises that pop up have effects on a lot of difference income types, which need to be made up with through technology, investment, or social engineering. For example, the squids cause a lot paranoia and fear in the populace, lowering happiness across the empire, so you need to research testing procedures that find their infiltrators. After you set up the blood testing facilities, you put in the money to spread them around and then pay the maintain on them. Once that¡¯s all finished, you get your happiness bonus back, and the morale of your troops stop being dogshit.


    Childcare facilities are meant to keep population growth stable through various conflicts. The reasoning for them is that people are finding it difficult to work and get it on with the end of the world looming over their heads. However, if they can place their kids in state facilities that are entrenched and well-protected and closely monitored, then they can work and have kids with less concern. They¡¯re a must build in every game, since having them also gives you certain perfect options when some events pop up. Like if a plague comes up, or some bioterrorist attack happens, the kids are spared outright because you can just quarantine the place off with ease.


    So, since I was already making schools in the first place, I made the schools live-in dormitories with caretakers that are well-protected, too. I mean, it just made sense. Having a whole staff team of caretakers take care of groups of children is more cost effective. The all eat in cafeterias, have facilities that monitor their health, and all get exercise and educated at the same time. Their parents can visit on the weekends if they want, and the parents can petition to be moved in adjacent neighborhoods with dedicated trolley systems to the school, so their kids can live with them.


    At first, those neighborhoods were full. Kids lived with their parents and the dorms were mostly filled with orphans. There were complaints, some bad teachers here and there that watchdogs had to put down, but Iterants took over the process and eliminated most of that. As more refugees and orphans streamed in, we expanded the facilities, added more residential units in the adjacent family living quarter, and we basically kept trucking along as the years went by.


    And, now, the family quarter is only a fifteen percent capacity and Ayah¡¯s proposing we reallocate most of it into homes for workers.


    Damn.


    I accidentally destroyed the family unit.


    ¡­


    ¡°Can we double check this information? It may be my upbringing as an orphan speaking, but families can¡¯t be broken by simple convenience, yes?¡± Another day, another checkup on my districts to validate findings given on reports. My carriage was unmarked and looked like the rest of that trundled along the tracks. Some people who were paying attention would note an unscheduled trolley going along the tracks, but most people just went on with their business not noticing anything strange. Hiding in plain sight, basically. ¡°I didn¡¯t aim to get rid of the family unit, you understand?¡±


    Riegert decided to come along, citing that he didn¡¯t like just waiting around before setting off on another expedition. At this point, we were just looking for nearby Ancient facilities to find another Wonder. I was hoping for two more before things kicked off, and I really hoped that the other guys were also looking for Wonders, too. Sure, they¡¯d be a bitch to fight against, but if they weren¡¯t found they canonically blow up.


    I¡¯d like to have them after taking over the other nations, thanks.


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised as well, kid. I¡¯ve seen families trek all over the continent together. Kids are born and raised in the same wagon the parents travel in, never leaving until they¡¯ve got their own.¡± Riegert looked pretty good. A day or two in the medical tanks of the Citadel dealt with most of the stress and pain that came with the expeditions, as well with the war. ¡°I¡¯ve half a mind not to believe the reports, even though the Iterants practically never lie.¡±


    I extended that bonus to my soldiers. If you fought on the field, even if you weren¡¯t injured, you got a ¡®spa¡¯ day at the Citadel. Lots of the veterans raved about it, along with the larger food rations they received and their bonus pay, but it was mostly to help them deal with trauma and revitalize their bodies. My soldiers won¡¯t be suffering from hearing loss and knee damage, and having a healthy body should help give them a healthy mind, too. We¡¯re also going through the various drugs to find ones that help with PTSD.


    I¡¯d rather not have someone with years of combat experience and internal magic training go on a rampage.


    ¡°I mean they should see an influx, since we¡¯ve got a new population group. The Beast tribes we¡¯ve taken in have been making use of the facilities in the Scholar¡¯s old territories.¡± The Forgers that defected to me were living up there now, along with the Beast tribe. I was counting on Erlan for some mining bonuses and production upgrades to the city, especially since most of the tiles in the region were mountains and hills. Most of the ¡®Descendant¡¯ population up there were also Iterants in disguise. If either Erlan or the former tribals raised a fuss, the Iterants will sweep through the Citadel and surrounding region with Guardians. They¡¯ve got potential, but the moment they try to over the region, they¡¯re gone. ¡°But they¡¯re the outlier. The three other regions all have the same thing happening. Kids get put into school, their parents visit on the weekends, and that¡¯s that.¡±


    ¡°From the reports, the families are lavish and spend time together well at the end of the workweek. The kids are bought new clothes, they eat at taverns where pay is needed, and they watch theatre together. They¡¯re happy.¡± Riegert pointed out, and I nodded. When he talked about reports and findings, it was easier to digest his new look. Roughing it out in the wilderness gave him a taste for the finer things in life. Nice, clean clothes and a lot more maintenance in the hair region. The slicked-back mane and the pointed beard, along with a suit-analogue barely containing his muscle, made him look like some sort of evil vizier¡­ of a hentai game. ¡°It may be strange, but if the findings are correct, will we do something about the family unit being lost? The Ancients were said to do something like what we do now, though the children lived with their parents, they had automated servants doing everything for them.¡±


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°And, the Ancients were felled by those who believed themselves above all others. Let us not forget that the Ancients fought against themselves and nearly destroyed the world entire.¡± The lore on how things went to shit wasn¡¯t set in stone. However, most lore-analysts agreed that the Ancients were too decadent, too assured of their power, and never anticipated extremist factions of their own populace doing anything crazy. They managed to sucker punch and bring their enemies down, but if they were careful and didn¡¯t fuck up, they wouldn¡¯t have lost in the first place. ¡°We are learning the greatness of the Ancients, but we must also learn from their mistakes. At the very least, we should be more thorough in educating and monitoring the children and their beliefs. We don¡¯t want them to be the source of future problems.¡±


    Riegert hummed.


    ¡°I agree, but how would that be done? Well, more so than we already are.¡± Riegert gestured outside through the thick, transparent armor of the carriage. My personal carriage had a lot of parts built in the Citadel for the sake of safety and protection. It was like a presidential limo, and it could even go off the tracks and operate on its own. It was just safer to mix into the masses of carriages on tracks than operate as a vehicle. ¡°You believe that the children of the future will look at all we¡¯ve made and decide to fight against us?¡±


    The children of the future will be better educated, have more time on their hands, and not worry about food and shelter. Even with healthcare and similar programs providing for everyone, there¡¯ll be people who will want power, who¡¯ll want more, and who¡¯ll wish themselves as rulers. I was banking that they¡¯ll be few, since curriculums are being moderated carefully, and I was doing my best to break down cultural barriers to make everyone line up behind a single idea¡­ but it¡¯s just not that simple.


    ¡°Persons change and improve and become better, but people rarely do. Power blocks will form between various strata. Race, money, religion, and more. Factions will form, people will rise to great influence, and when they can¡¯t get what they want¡­ they¡¯ll take help from the outside.¡± Supporting political enemies of your foes was a cheap way of increasing unrest in their regions, if their happiness is low enough. If you pumped in enough and unrest went high enough, they¡¯ll see rebel units and even armies forming in their lands, which will go rampant to destroy improvements, and even take cities or towns. The reason why I was insistent on making so many improvements in living standards, raising the kids to my ideals, and making sure they were happy¡­ was for my own gain in the end. A happy, satisfied population is one that doesn¡¯t rebel. Hell, it¡¯s a population that¡¯ll fight for you without question. ¡°The Ancients, with their grand and powerful society fell to such things. We are at risk of it as well, especially if we don¡¯t take raise the next generation properly.¡±


    The carriage stopped in front a set of large gates, which opened without a noise, as we and my guards were admitted into the first of four institutions dedicated to raising the children of the city.


    Time to see for myself how things are going here.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegret


    ¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re right. This absolutely looks like a cesspool of future dissidents, my king.¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Riegert.¡± Jack managed to sound venomous, despite smiling and waving with a crown of flowers on his head. The children were starry-eyed, practically in awe, but the kept their distance with good discipline as he and I walked together down the main path. He called the children¡¯s school an institution, a place where the children were taken away from their parents, but they saw it differently. ¡°Just smile and wave.¡±


    It was palatial in its construction. The main school was an elegant structure at the end of a long park that was separated into four quadrants by stone pathways. Benches were beneath trees. Each quadrant was filled with grass and flowers and gardens maintained by the students. The buildings where children learned surrounded the large park. Brown brick with large windows that let in light to each classroom, they were long constructions instead of wide, the space they took was immense, but not one child was far from the outside as they were taught, as they were given skills their parents never had, and lived in safety.


    He gave them the same buildings and opulence once reserved for families of good standing at the Academy.


    To those that the Academy would consider rabble.


    ¡°Smiling and waving, my lord.¡± The attendants of the school were all orderly as they lined the large path we walked through. Each student was tall for their age with full cheeks, bright eyes, and no scarring from any disease or poxes. None were missing limbs or were scarred. All had smiles on their faces or light blushes of excitement. Hundreds of children, future citizenry of the nation, all eager to look upon their king, who gave them shelter, food, and purpose the moment they were born. ¡°I shall be sure to protect you with my life once they start brandishing gifts.¡±


    I chuckled at the sidelong glare filled with venom he sent my way, while his eyes were curled up with his wide smile.


    He worried for his treatment of these children like he thought he was some warlord plucking them from homes and hearths. The separation of child and parent was on his mind, most likely because of his readings and his own experience. He read about and saw families in his time at the Academy, while never having his own. Thus, he believed that his methods now would invite repercussions. However, the families he saw at the Academy had longstanding grudges, plans to increase their power, and were most likely of low nobility scrambling for all that they can. The bonds of blood were valued as they were allies with mutual goals.


    Here¡­ all were equal under the King of Wisdom.


    He feared the rise of cultural and racial groups, but as I looked around, I saw only people. Some young women had the ears of beasts on their heads. A few young men had ears that were a bit more pointed. The Conquerors were tall, but they were interspersed in the backline of each class group and had faces of wonder and appreciation towards Jack same as everyone else. Scholar children were at the very front, their short heights accounted for with care by their fellows, and they clapped and cheered and threw flowers same everyone else.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re doing fine caring for the kids this way. Maybe in a few generations, we¡¯ll have issues¡­ with room.¡± I told Jack simply.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be expanding. Mostly downward to make sure everyone¡¯s safe.¡± I almost scoffed at his words. Somehow, he found it lacking. This place where a child does not have to work, where a child can learn everything, they need and more, and not have to worry about food and shelter¡­ is filled with flaws in his eyes. His concerns about the Ancients were true, but it took centuries of neglect and lack of care for them to reach the point he feared. And before that they were ascendant for countless millennia across the stars. ¡°What is it, Riegert? You have something to say?¡±


    When he spoke like that, I couldn¡¯t help but remember the fierce urchin desperately holding onto scales and a pack of food that I met just a few years ago.


    Now, I stood beside a king upon whose brow a lay a crown and whose shoulders were burdened by crushing expectations.


    His own regarding himself.


    ¡°You did good work here, my king. I think you should just accept that it¡¯s working fine.¡±


    ¡°Hmph.¡±

 V8: Chapter 11

    V8: Chapter 11


    ¡­


    When workers see a machine that''ll make their job ten percent easier, they think that they can work ten percent less.


    When the owner of a business sees the same machine, they''ll think they''ll get ten percent more from their workers.


    I''m going for the middle ground.


    Five percent more production output for me, and five percent less work for my workers.


    It''s not a compromise, or some political stance that I''ll never compromise on.


    I''m looking for long-term, sustained growth of outputs in every field, because that''s the only way to survive. Workplaces are going to get safety regulations because I don''t want to lose someone who can give me fifty years of work output because of a stupid mistake. I''ll bite the bullet and get less output from an innovation, because I want to retain workers and make sure they get better at their job. Workers get benefits and vacation, because products produced by people who don''t want to work or are just sick and/or tired aren''t as good as those who are motivated and driven.


    It wouldn''t make sense back in the US, where shareholders cared only for short-term gains because they''re just looking for pump and dumps and corporations had to support that goal. Over there, the CEO looks at getting the same profit as the previous year as a horrific travesty that needs layoffs. In this world, if I lay off my workers for not reaching a quota, I''ll investigate the quota and the issues that made it not happen. The process will be improved, systems improved, and workers get their input heard, so that we can reach the quota that we need¡­ and then I''ll replicate those improvements across the board and keep improving anything similar.


    I guess that I''m more of a massive, family-run private business, but instead of burgers or chicken sandwiches I''m looking at guns, ammo, food, construction material, rations¡­


    Okay, fine.


    This isn''t a business at all.


    The comparison was garbage.


    I''m just playing at king desperately trying to remember all the tenets for running a long-term business properly from my college courses, because that''s all I really know.


    I really hope that it''s enough to not get turned into living furniture, disposable toys, cattle, or blood sacrifices.


    ¡­


    "Congratulates on your commendation for your work and your crew''s efforts, Mr. Cale. You did a wonderful job today."


    "T-thank you very much, y-your majesty, it''s an honor!"


    The man who was thanking me with tears in his eyes had a big beard, was twice my height, and biceps bigger than my head. Behind him, the rest of his crew were also big lads. They were human, or Descendants in this world, but they had a Conqueror on their team and the guy barely made them look small. They were all burly, large men barely contained by their working clothes.


    And, they were all teary eyed and looking at me like giant puppies.


    "The honor is mine. Your work saves hundreds of lives everyday by building to the standards and codes that have been set." They were road crews. People who''d get eyerolls or honks from passing cars back home. They do their work, fill in a pothole, or get yelled at for closing off a lane or road for repairs. On the surface, that''s all that they seemingly did. In truth? Roads are binding my lands together. "Hold your heads up high. This road allows this territory to be patrolled by soldiers, for medicine to reach its peoples, and allow the children here to attend school in complete safety. These medals and awards are well-earned."


    I reached out and shook his hand, before going down the line, putting medals on each of the men of the crew.


    Each one was smiling and grinning for the reporters and the people making quick sketches. They were Iterants. All of them. The latest piece in my propaganda machine. Free press doesn''t exist in my state. These people will write about what happened here today, transform their sketches into simple ink stamps, and news will spread about this award ceremony and all the others. I was keeping up appearances as a benevolent dictator by praising the people I was working and giving them bonuses and prizes. The bonuses and prizes were already factored into the overall cost of each project, and we just picked the team with the best outputs.


    Increased productivity across a whole project in exchange for a few hours of my week?


    It''s an easy choice.


    I left the stage after shaking the last hand of the crew and they were beset by my reporters for quotes and statements to make the news that much more real.


    At the foot of the stage, waiting for me, was Ilych.


    "Done with your classes for the day?" Without all her armor and gear, she looked like a taciturn titan of a woman with slightly wavy hair. Taciturn was putting it mildly. Most people would just say Ilych had a permanent dead and dull stare. She wore a black suit with a green shirt beneath along with a white tie. A two-handed sword was on her hip in a scabbard, which was just a one-hander for her size, and a tall kite shield was on her back. Opposite of her sword was her revolver, which was bigger than my face and had rounds that could blow through a troll''s face. "How are you feeling?"


    "My mind is full. The winds bid me to rest, so I may learn more tomorrow. Your majesty." Her diplomacy score probably hovers at five out of a maximum of thirty. Dump stat. Sending her to negotiate is pretty much just asking for war. It was bad enough that I would be worried about the morale of her troops, if not for her accomplishments and accolades. Killing a lot of big, scary monsters with giant weapons tends to make you popular with the troops. "I can rest while guarding you."


    "Usually, I want my guards alert and prepared, but I''ve got plenty so go ahead." The number of Iterants between me and any possible threat was around fifty. That wasn''t including an Iterants in the population either. We''re at 1 to 5 now in terms of Iterants for our population. In a few years, they were going to be the largest population demographic. In another few years, that''ll stagnate, since most of them are going to the front. "When you''re ready, I have a potential Champion for you to train."


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Unlike in the game, Champions weren''t just waiting in the marketplace to be picked up for a tremendous amount of money. No, they had to be found, their potential measured, and investments needed to be made in both time and resources. Before everyone consolidated, I could just find and pick one up like I did with Sarala, but that just wasn''t possible now. Everyone was working on getting as many Champions on their side as possible, so it was much better to just train them up.


    "I am confident that I will be able to train them in a year." Ilych reported, and I gave a nod in turn. Ilych didn''t embellish and didn''t put herself down. Some people would say that made her boring, but with all the quirks of her theoretical skill tree, being boring, personality was welcome. I''d prefer a square, dull living weapon of mass destruction, thank you very much. I already know enough quirky, funny people who can demolish a town in a few minutes. "Will they be doing the same as I?"


    "Not completely. Not everyone can do the same as you." She''s the funny meme character that either ends up broken in power scaling or useless.  The dude she''s about to teach is a generic army leader character that you just slot in as a beatstick that confers bonuses to the army. Like Riegert, but without overspecialization towards Tier 0 and Tier 1 units. "I''ll have him work under Riegert, then you can teach him how to fight somewhat like you. Not your fighting style, that''ll just kill him. I want him to see the battle kinda like you do and either reinforce a failing position or press the advantage."


    Ilych''s combat reports are filled with constant statements of her being an intuitive fighter. Someone who can see places to go into during combat. If some part of the army is failing, she''ll be there and push the enemy back. If there''s a spot where the enemy is weak, she''ll lead a charge in and drive in with a massive advantage. Morgan, Rita, and Riegert all fought methodically and calmly, preparing movements in advance, giving out signals to launch attacks, and responding to enemy movements.


    I needed more of them than I did Ilych, since soon we''ll be fighting mostly defensive battles, but having ''hot-blooded'' and instinctive commanders was great for assaults.


    You don''t win wars on the defense.


    Expeditions later in the game take a lot of soldiers and resources, need certain technologies, and finally multiple Champions that have been properly geared up and ready. While the generic Champions are staying here and holding the line, I''m taking the freaks of nature that have specialized skills and having them fight. The ''reward'' for successfully finishing one of the expeditions was a big fight on a preset map to take down something or someone important to the crises targeted. You take away their special units, lower the numbers of their army, and if you finish the final expedition of the chain for that crisis, you buy enough time to reach an endgame and something fantastic in return from the legendary loot table.


    Basically, Morgan, Ilych, and Rita were going to be sent over to be big fucking heroes with the best troops and tech I could give them. They needed two more Champions before I could send them out at full expedition strength for the final expeditions. Hopefully, I could poach the Saintess, but there were a few Champions that spawned only in the midgame that could also work. They needed a healer and some heavy ordinance before I sent them out there, and both needed to be trained and equipped enough to be able to kill hundreds of enemies without using their mana.


    The three of them alone should do fine against the offensive expedition, though.


    "I understand. I will do my best to train him to survive." Ilych answered and brought me out of my fugue. I gave her a nod in return, before getting into my carriage. She joined without prompting. One of my guards went ahead and rode on the spare seats in the back. There was the crack of reins and the horses neighed and dragged us along. Ilych was quiet and massive across from me for a bit, before opening her mouth again. "Where will we eat lunch?"


    Sometimes, this titan of a woman capable of mulching armies reminds me that she hasn''t reached two decades yet.


    "Tell the driver wherever you want. We have an hour."


    Ilych gave a nod and went silent, obviously carefully considering where to go to lunch.


    No one her age should be fighting, but there''s no choice.


    Either we all fight or we all die¡­ or experience something even worse.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Hearing of a monster in the woods near the budding town I visited, I endeavored to take a break from my regular duties and go on a hunt to clear my mind. Envisioning a calm afternoon after a light lunch, hours spent tracking the beast, before setting upon it¡­ I had great expectations for my day.


    It was ruined as we happened upon the clearing where the beast was reported.


    "Hey there, it''s been quite a while, hasn''t it?" Morgan, who earned the title Lich Slayer, sat on the shoulder of a hulking Ogre. The creature was covered in blood, in pain, and sweating while tears and saliva and snot dripped from its facial orifices. Mallory and Christine were quick to respond, summoning phantoms and forming barriers to protect me in an instant. Morgan only laughed, sheathing the knife she was twirling in her hand, before dismounting primly off the Ogre''s shoulder. "Oh, relax. I just made this guy scare some people. No one got hurt. I''m just here to talk."


    I made sure to enrobe myself in as many protections as I could, while speaking to her and buying time.


    She seemed amused by my actions and did nothing to stop it.


    "Well, I''ll go ahead and take advantage of you stalling for time. I''m here because I''m hunting the last remnants of the Academy''s forces. The same one that made the Lich happen." Morgan''s surroundings thrummed with faint power, then a loud squelching sound emanated from the back of the Ogre''s head. The creature then¡­ took the blade in its hand and pierced its own heart and fell dead face first. I recoiled at the sight of its back and spine. It was all open to the air and many needles glinted in the sunlight. They flew out of the creature and into a pouch by Morgan''s hip. New, terrible magic.  "We told you about it in the Death Lord''s throne room, if you recall."


    Her words suddenly took nearly all my attention.


    "What proof do you have¡ª" I trailed off as Morgan took a pouch and threw it before her. From it flowed out colored sands. With terrifying control and ability, she created a full rendition of the creature she spoke of from memory alone. It was running away and entered the town we were  just at. The King of Wisdom kept true monsters at his side. Ilych, Rita, and Morgan are all peerless in their own respects. However, I set those thoughts aside, as I looked upon a sand-based construct of the Wraith in movement. "When did this happen?"


    "A few days ago. Almost caught it by surprise with a little thing inscribed with some holy magic." Morgan mimicked throwing a pebble, complete with a small whistle. She sighed. "It seemed tougher this time than the last time I saw it. Needed to put a bit of oomph, but that would''ve alerted your people."


    Morgan''s eyes glittered with some sort of amusement and pride at her statements, as if she was not hunting a terrible, powerful creature into my lands.


    I swallowed my pride in turn and nodded.


    "You have means to track this creature?"


    Morgan blinked in surprise at my quick acceptance and gave me a gentle smile.


    The same smile a killer would give their victim.


    "I''ve got his scent. Magically speaking. It sticks out especially amongst normal people. He''s a Champion and he needs more than the typical person." Morgan stated casually and her gentle smile turned into a more ferocious one, like a beast intent on pursuing its prey¡­ and ready to confront all that opposed it. "If you let me in, I can finish the job."


    Pride and honor demanded that I refuse her and rebuke her for implying that she could act on behalf of the King of Wisdom in my lands.


    Experience and understanding gave me another answer.


    "Tell me what you know and what you need. This beast will die in my lands."


    I turned away, but before I could completely, she silently mouthed two words my way that made my teeth grit.


    Good girl.


    I will not lower myself and respond to her frivolous provocations.

 V8: Chapter 12

    V8: Chapter 12


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Mallory and Christine both had frowns on their faces, which signaled to me that their meeting with the Lich Slayer¡¯s apprentices did not go as well as we hoped.


    ¡°So, there¡¯s no chance of swaying them with the righteousness of our cause?¡±


    The twins shared a look, before replying as one.


    ¡°¡°None.¡±¡±


    I allowed myself the luxury of sighing, as I could within the traveling house-wagon I commissioned. Originally, I had planned to use it as a command center for future campaigns, brought in by air. The massive flying fort that the King of Wisdom constructed invalidated that idea, and we were now trying to make something similar with some of our findings from the Lich¡¯s lands.


    A mobile, flying crypt with vast holds filled with our Hives instead of a gleaming fortress, but it would suit our needs better.


    So, I took the house-wagon as my personal vehicle. It hovered through magic and was pulled over roads swiftly by undead steeds. With some of my power, it could fly short distances. It could not compare to a pure, flying transport, but it gave me privacy¡­ and as close as a home as I could get while outside my Citadel.


    I could afford to take off my mask and look weary in its reinforced walls.


    ¡°Can you kill them, if the need arises?¡±


    Thankfully, the twins answered with good news this time.


    ¡°Yes. We outstrip them completely. Even in the coming years, we don¡¯t believe their talents will allow them to surpass us. At worst, in a few years, they will be equal to us and the battle will be decided by whom fortune favors.¡± Mallory looked towards one of the chairs and I gave her and her sister a nod. They both divested themselves of their helms. Two faces with scarlet eyes and short silver hair looked back at me. Young, powerful Vampire Knights and Champions as well. In any other era, these two would¡¯ve carved their names into legend and myth. In this one¡­ ¡°But Morgan would certainly intervene. She dotes on them, though her training is robust.¡±


    ¡°The King of Wisdom gave Morgan full freedom in their training, it seems. They stink of freshly healed wounds. None, that is permanent debilitations, of course, but they will not balk at losing limbs or pain within the season. They are practically fearless already.¡± I nodded at Christine¡¯s explanation. The two Champions that came with Morgan were new. Both were dressed like regular riflemen of the King of Wisdom. Gray jacket and trousers with sturdy boots and a helmet, along with a large pack that had a shovel at the side. They both had a sword at their waist and a revolver firearm, unlike those riflemen, though. Until they found the weapon that suited them the best, they would remain with those weapons. ¡°But that is expected of Champions. The only issue will be when his vast population arises. Then, these Champions being trained so quickly will have negative effects.¡±


    One Champion is found for every hundred mages, and mages with high capacity are one in every hundred people. Ten thousand to one odd for every Champion, though when paired properly, Champions can sire Champions themselves. Oddly enough, however, that rule applies only to their firstborn and thereafter child will have a higher chance at being a mage, but no more than that. The Ancients most likely considered one in ten thousand a controllable amount even in their society of billions. They wouldn¡¯t be so foolish as to give all their people such immense power, of course.


    However, that ratio put into stark relief the plain and unvarnished truth.


    In just a few years, the first generation born under Jack¡¯s rule will be considered adults and every year thereafter another batch will come forth. Tens of thousands of adults entering the workforce every year¡­ all but guarantees that in the future Jack will be able to have whole strike teams, or even a while military unit, of solely Champions. They will be a potent force, capable of running rampant across the land, and that is if they are not all found at an early age and raised so that their talents are raised to their natural heights. With the wealth and power that the King of Wisdom had at his disposal, I was sure that he will have hundreds of Champions at his disposal when the foes of the Ancients arrive.


    It¡¯s almost fortunate that there¡¯s a greater threat for him to face than me and our piddling confederation.


    I shook my head away from those thoughts, and addressed my two Knights.


    ¡°Find out all that you can from them. However, our current mission is to find the Wraith that she speaks of. The image that she showed us is that of a monster that should only exist in the most ancient of tomes.¡± Wraiths were said to be the next step in the evolution of Phantoms, such as my teacher. They were meant to become infiltrators for the grand armies that the Ancients called upon to exert their will. Though they would retain the weakness of the Phantoms, they would be more transient and able to wield a wider variety of magic, and thus capable of achieving much that my teacher cannot.  ¡°But have them all watched as they are in our territory. I don¡¯t want them left out of sight or unaccounted for.¡±


    Both Mallory and Christine gave nods at my words, before I let loose a breath and nodded at them in turn.


    I got up from my chair, took my rifle from where it waited upon a gun shelf, and shouldered it with a strap.


    ¡°Come along, then. One of you. I want to hunt something fresh for this evening¡¯s dinner.¡±


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    It was a small luxury, but after the stress I endured from Morgan¡¯s sudden appearance, I believe that I earned it.


    Mallory and Christine were quick to lock eyes one another and begin a battle of wills, through a children¡¯s game, to gain the right to follow me along for a simple flight and hunt for our dinner in the evening.


    Even they liked the peace and quiet a simple hunt brought nowadays.


    ¡­


    Morgan and her two apprentices did not hesitate to accept our hospitality.


    Why wouldn¡¯t they?


    If anything happened to them as our guests, then we would be destroyed thoroughly by the King of Wisdom.


    ¡°Wow, I¡¯ve heard that the Guardians are the best cooks, but this is really something!¡± Morgan¡¯s praise was completely sincere. She sat to my right as my guest of honor with Mallory across from her with Christine sitting by her side. We asked her politely to relinquish her weapons, and she obliged¡­ and sent off the quartermaster of my camp with a wagon-full of weapons from her pockets. The only one that remained was the blade she used to slay the Lich, but that was under Mallory¡¯s care. Even within the sheathe, the sanctified blade gave off a subtle and holy shine. ¡°You¡¯d need to go to the Citadel and fork over some coins to get something similar back home.¡±


    Morgan was casual in her statement, but both her apprentices sighed and shook their heads, while following proper etiquette for their meal. They used the correct utensils for every course, politely thanked the servants, and ate with a dignified air while paying their compliments sincerely. The two of them, after given time to wash and have their clothes cleaned, seemed to simply be respectable young adults of the Descendants¡­ which was worrying.


    Champions are typically freer and more unrestrained, oftentimes acting above the station they were raised in. These two, despite all their talent, power, and ability, were perfect soldiers. Completely loyal and perfect Champions who would not question the King of Wisdom. Not even the Academy managed such a thing, always having to pay their Champions handsomely and treat them well, but these two before mere were clad in standard clothes and would not seem out of place amongst their kin.


    Jack¡¯s intentions to ¡°mass produce¡± Champions couldn¡¯t be any clearer than with the two apprenticed to Morgan.


    Every single one a representative of his people, each one skilled a multitude of matters, ranging from etiquette to warfare.


    How many will he have within a year?


    Two years?


    Half a decade?


    Khalai told us plainly that he intended to conquer the entire continent within ten years. The Forgers had scoffed, but Khalai only smiled at the reaction. Harper had said nothing, besides look my way, as if telling me that was indeed the case.


    I shook my head free of the thoughts and spoke to the two.


    ¡°Sir Leonardo and lady Maryline, I hope the meal is satisfactory to you both. I had it made with a long day in mind.¡± It was freshly hunted venison roast alongside a light soup with herbs and potatoes. Thin slices of the roast, which was allowed to cool, settled in the stomach better after a long day of journeying. ¡°If you find it unpalatable, we have bread and preserves ready for a lighter meal.¡±


    Leonardo was a wiry and gloomy-eyed young man with hair cut short and close to his scalp. His ungloved hands were covered in scars and I was sure that was the case beneath his uniform. However, his face was without a single blemish. Mallory and Christine¡¯s words came to mind.  Thing young man will not shirk from wounds that can be healed, without a doubt.


    He opened his mouth to speak, but the young woman by his side nudged him lightly on the side and his mouth closed.


    She was probably better suited for the task.


    ¡°Thank you very much for your concern, your excellency.¡± My official title felt odd to hear, and I felt a of shock as the young woman primly stood from her seat and bowed at my direction. The young man followed a moment after she finished speaking and effectively stood by her side with her at the lead. ¡°The food is nourishing and delicious, as well as well-portioned. It is a wonderful meal.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I feel the same way, your excellency.¡± Leonardo gave a small nod at the statement, and glanced at Maryline briefly. The blonde-haired young woman with startling ruby eyes gave the smallest of nods at his query for confirmation. He practically sighed in relief as his shoulders loosened, and he cast his gaze downward in perfect deference to her. He allowed her to take the field without hesitation. ¡°You have my thanks for the meal.¡±


    A quick glance at Morgan showed me that she was watching them from the corner of her eye¡­ and seemed quite pleased.


    Right.


    They addressed me properly as etiquette demanded and subscribed their thanks to the meal that I have given.


    Not even an iota of an error for me to grasp upon.


    ¡°Please, sit. We are allies in the current task. The Academy¡¯s actions are a threat. Though I oppose the King of Wisdom¡¯s designs to rule over the continent entire, I hold no ill will towards him or his people.¡± Not even the eldest and most venerable of my people could claim to hate him. Many denounced his use of disease as a weapon, but that was not enough to hate the King of Wisdom, especially when his actions spared much of our cultivated lands in former Academy-held territory. If we declared against him for such an action, they could easily ask us if we wished for all our people there to have their lives upended, and for our flanks to be hit by hordes of monsters. ¡°We may be foes, but we are not hated enemies.¡±


    I hoped that my words would reach them, but the young woman frowned as she took her seat.


    It was obvious that she had words to say, but stayed her tongue.


    Morgan, however, spoke up for her.


    ¡°We feel hated, though. Why wouldn¡¯t you accept an alliance with us against the rest of the world, if you didn¡¯t?¡± Morgan stated simply and looked over at her student who gave a sharp nod. Morgan had the fame and power to say such things¡­ as well as the will to do so. I realized that my passing interest in the young woman¡¯s words gave Morgan an opening. ¡°Me and my students, all of the soldiers under our command, we¡¯d rather prepare and fight against the Ancient¡¯s foes. However, at our backs are your lot holding back the potential of our Citadels. If what you say is true, you should at least allow us to have four eightfold-improved Citadels instead of what we have now.¡±


    Such was their view on matters. We must all fight together or fall, thus old hatreds and pride must be given away.  In truth, all the Citadels should be linked at least to reach their full potential, then returned  to their holders now.


    I could not disagree with the notion and the good it will bring.


    But my confederation with the Merchants, Forgers, and Wardens would not allow it, even if I could convince my people.  Honor also demanded that I uphold my promises to them and not give a five-fold improvement to my Citadel and those of the King of Wisdom.  Even though such a thing would strengthen the only force on the continent that intended to fight against the calamities to come.


    As I thought this, as I considered it all, the stares of Morgan and her two Champion students bore into me and accentuated the silence.


    I was reminded of my words to Morgan.


    When I had told her that one day my people will fight an honorable battle for the ownership of our Citadel against the King of Wisdom.


    Those words had turned into a lie.


    At their continued stares, I could only manage a simple statement.


    ¡°Such matters are being discussed by our confederation. Know that we take the threat of the coming calamities with utmost seriousness.¡±


    It was a half-truth.


    We did see the great calamities that were to come.


    It was just that we were focused on defeating the one known as the King of Wisdom first.

 V8: Chapter 13

    V8: Chapter 13


    ¡­


    There¡¯s no shortage of people out there who¡¯ll fuck up if given the slightest chance.


    Case in point: back in my original world, people need to be warned against eating detergent.


    That¡¯s a world where most people have at least twelve years of minimal education, where literacy rates are at around ninety percent, and companies are interested in not being litigated.


    Here?


    Most people have a year or two, literacy is basically considered a professional skill, and small businesses are jostling for every advantage that they can get away with.


    I¡¯ve read in history books about bakers mixing ground up stone into flour to extend the amount of bread they can get from a bag. Meat processing facilities where meat goes rancid before they even put it into cans. Doctors operating without washing their hands or disinfecting their tools. Hell, some weird news stories from abroad told me that some noodle shops were filling their bowls with opium to get customers to come in.


    Basically, what I¡¯m getting at is simple: along with building up a massive industry, it was also an immense concern on my end to keep everything neat and safe. Not out of the goodness of my heart, but because I want to get out as much as possible from my population. Someone taken out of commission from a stomach illness is someone who isn¡¯t working for weeks. A bad doctor poorly treating patients means people who could¡¯ve gotten better are suddenly crippled. Even additives to bread like sawdust or ground up rocks can lead to illness or ruin teeth, leading to people who undoubtedly work less because they¡¯re in constant pain.


    Everyone took a lot for granted back on Earth.


    Anyway, I couldn¡¯t do everything myself, so I relied on Ayah to set up the department of safety to look after such issues. I didn¡¯t want people dying because of stupid reasons.  Everyone can do some sort of work, and housing and food is cheap, so go ahead and work, generate stuff, and pay your taxes. If you¡¯re doing that, you can be as stupid as you want, and I¡¯ll keep people trying to take advantage of you off your back.


    If you can do something for me, anything really, I¡¯ll do my darndest to keep you doing that for as long as you can.


    I¡¯m not winning this this thing alone.


    ¡­


    The Conqueror¡¯s Citadel looked a lot better than I last saw it.


    Granted, the last time I saw it, it was fresh from being firebombed to get all the demonic-infested creatures out into firing lines.


    By my command, and into my firing lines, too.


    So, the bar was quite low.


    Anyway, the desert region is one of the best for generating money in the game. Rare earth metals, exotic spices, and strategic resources were aplenty.  The caveat to it was that you were limited to starting at the place with the Guardians or the Conquerors, since both weren¡¯t as reliant on food. Well, the Guardians weren¡¯t that reliant. The Conquerors just went into hibernation when and ¡®lost¡¯ population temporarily when they didn¡¯t have enough.


    Improving desert tiles is a bit more expensive, but they pay for themselves in ten turns or so, and after that they¡¯re pure profit. The tech is also early in the game, and you can improve them with more research, and with a desert-oriented administrative Champion, you¡¯ll get money flowing out your ears. There¡¯s a reason why Conquerors or Guardians are all depicted as blinged out in all their tech tree art later in the game.


    I couldn¡¯t find a desert-oriented Champion to rule over the city, but I did find several scholars and funded a whole institution to pursue the skills that they were reported to have and implement them. Desert admin champions had four special administrative skills they could invest points into. For now, we only had one working. Sand Sifting techniques allowed the sands to be moved and processed through magic and find small particles of rare earth metals and gold, which led to gold being produced from every desert tile. As far as I knew, the desert region on this continent is wholly artificial and is for resource extraction and maybe even production.


    Anyway, Crusher no longer had magic, but he did have the best medical suite available on the planet, so he was looking good when I met with him again.


    Good and covered in silks and jewelry.


    Enjoying your cushy desk job, you bastard?


    ¡°Crusher, well met.¡± We met in the palace at the base of the Citadel. I called it a palace, but it was just big to accommodate the Conquerors who visited it normally. Here Crusher met with the administrators and clerks and scholars of the region to administer over the region. His hand engulfed mine when I shook it. He had so many massive rings on his hand that I half-expected to have some gold dust on my hands when I pulled away. ¡°I see that you¡¯re enjoying the fruits of your labors.¡±


    ¡°The time will come when you will peel back the low rates you¡¯ve placed upon us. Until then, my people will bask in our newfound wealth.¡± Right, for the sake of reconstruction, I lightened to tax on this region to near zero. A lot of my current treasury was going into making this place work along with filling the Scholar¡¯s region with mines and research labs. Without the Merchants giving up their treasury for me, I¡¯d have had to stall the growth of both regions to finance my assaults on the Death Lord. Anyway, for now, any money they generated while reconstructing was being turned right back into their region. ¡°We have a year or so left, correct?¡±


    Five turns, so¡­


    ¡°A little more than a year. I¡¯m glad we didn¡¯t have to pull much away with the conflict against the Death Lord. The sooner everything is working the better. Of course, we¡¯ll make a survey first and properly evaluate the situation and tax accordingly.¡± I don¡¯t have time to carefully create corporations and set up the systems necessary for free enterprise to work. The lands in my regions will be exploited. That¡¯s the whole point of this place. The Academy at the center is supposed to be where everything was rebuilt, then all around it are places to utilize for resources. The Citadels produce resources for a massive frontline against the entire world, the regions around them are rich in resources, and everyone should be safe at the center of the continent behind three layers of defenses. If only the Academy got the memo. ¡°Ah, I brought Conquest¡¯s medals and accolades. She requested I bring it to be placed at your household for her brothers and sisters to look upon.¡±


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    Ayah brought the box forward. The nice, cedar box had velvet inside that the medals could be hooked onto. It was all for the sake of presentation. It was funny to hear people gasp at the award ceremony when Conquest came up, and instead of getting handed a few medals, she instead got a decorated box full of eight. I had no doubt that she won¡¯t have to pay for a drink for the rest of her life.


    ¡°She¡¯ll be the death of her siblings. They¡¯re still young and training, but she¡¯s set herself up as a star to be reached.¡± Crusher grumbled, but gingerly accepted the box with great care and looked upon the multiple awards with pride. Three were for honorable service in major battles, ranging from the initial attacks, to putting down the Death Lord¡¯s ace-in-the-hole, and finally in the final battle against the Death Lord itself. Three more were for her covert operations and the specialist missions. The last two were my analogues to the medal of honor and the distinct service medals for going above and beyond the call of duty and gravely risking her life for the mission. ¡°You have my thanks. The next generation of Conquerors will be strong.¡±


    I didn¡¯t bother to mince words.


    ¡°They¡¯ll need to be. The enemies we¡¯re all going to face in the next ten years are beyond the Death Lord.¡± Crusher gave a sharp nod and sat straight at my words. The Merchant servants present in white robes bowed and excused themselves when he gave them a wave to leave. I waited until they were gone. ¡°We¡¯ve found the source of the living metal. Right now, your people armed with anti-material rifles are our only counter, even if they send a middling force. They¡¯re living war machines half-flesh and half-metal, and with mastery over powerful weapons from days long past.¡±


    ¡°How powerful?¡±


    ¡°They run as fast as horses, have armor greater than knights, and on they wield fully automatic versions of the cannons I¡¯ve given your troops. One of their number can easily route a force of a thousand. Five a whole army.¡±


    ¡°Mages?¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t stay still. Only fortune would allow them to be destroyed¡­ or sacrifice.¡± If you¡¯re running only pike and shot, you could swamp them with pike and pour fire on them. Most of the damage will be coming from your Champion buffing your rifles, and doing their own damage. In all honesty, more people would survive if I gave them explosive vests or explosive spears. Hm, shaped charges are just explosives with a copper liner, right? I should investigate that. ¡°They still need a supply line, and they¡¯re few in number, but command multitudes of slaves.¡±


    Crusher leaned forward at that.


    ¡°And, nothing will be done to save these slaves?¡±


    ¡°Will I be exchanging the lives of my citizens to save them? No. If they¡¯re captured and if they surrender with their masters dead, I¡¯ll happily see them educated and working.¡± That answer seemed to suffice for Crusher. The various enemies we were to face used the mortal races as serfs, sacrifices, prey, or toys. If I could tap into that labor pool, I would, but it was hard enough for skilled professionals to make the journey into those lands undetected. Hosting whole exoduses would supply us with incredible amounts of labor, but it¡¯d just be an exercise in seeing how many we can get to die running before the enemy gained on us and killed them all. ¡°In order to counter these enemies, I want sharpshooters trained with new magics. Your finest shooters in veteran squads to train with their weapons empowered for more damage and armor penetration.¡±


    ¡°¡­I see. Skill will allow the delivery of fearsome firepower. Skill alone. I approve.¡± Magics existed out there that could help guide projectiles into foreheads. However, magic wasted on increasing hit chance is magic not used to buff damage and armor penetration. There¡¯s always a trade-off. In the end, it¡¯s better to be able to kill your opponent outright, than invest into hitting them and not killing them at all. ¡°You¡¯re sending another expedition outside, yes? Conquest should be sent along with it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not. Her temperament won¡¯t allow her to ignore the horrors that we find out there.¡± Crusher frowned at my words, but didn¡¯t contest them. Certain traits in Champions just made them bad choices for certain expeditions. ¡°She¡¯s better suited for the raids I have planned. We¡¯ll send her out there to get the measure of our enemies and retrieve corpses and equipment for study. That¡¯ll be in a few months.¡±


    I aimed a pointed look his way and he grunted.


    ¡°No, my students are not capable of a feat like that, yet.¡± I hoped that the raids I planned on mounting to gain technology and information would have Crusher supporting it, even if it was through an apprentice Champion. ¡°I¡¯m searching for a general for our people. A leader to aid my daughter as she lives up to her heritage as a warrior. Unfortunately, such people are rare amongst my kind.¡±


    ¡°Keep looking. You know yourselves best. Find someone amongst your people, or recruit someone who can work with your people.¡± Champions are, quite frankly, have a preference towards their own people. Unless you mod the game, or play on some weird weekly map with freaky settings, you¡¯re not going to see a Conqueror with bonuses Descendant units. You need to find someone of their own people to lead them. That¡¯s one of the reasons why I don¡¯t have Sarala over here. Even if he plays his cards perfectly, Conquerors will chafe under his rule. ¡°The funds are ready to elevate someone to the state of Champion, or to hire a Champion outright. So long as your people approve and they are capable, they shall be supported. The support of the Conquerors is essential to the survival of as many as possible.¡±


    I didn¡¯t mince words and I didn¡¯t lie. Crusher and the rest of the Conquerors aren¡¯t stupid. They know what they¡¯re worth and there¡¯s a lot of them. If they wanted, they can put pressure on me to get more rights and privileges. They¡¯re just too honorable to do that. However, if I neglect them and if I don¡¯t acknowledge them, then they¡¯ll be unhappy and work against me regardless.


    In-game, it¡¯s essential to rebuild infrastructure, set up courts, and put the region you¡¯ve taken onto its way towards recovery asap, because if you don¡¯t¡­ you¡¯re looking at problems down the line.


    Problems in the shape of militia forming from the pops of the region threatening to destroy tile improvements. The more improvements they break, the more they upgrade themselves and improve their numbers, until you¡¯re looking down the barrel of a full-blown army in your resource production zones.


    If those problems were Children of the Elm, they¡¯re basically free XP. Let them eat an improvement or two, so they¡¯ve got some numbers, then have your chosen Champion feast.


    If those problems are Conquerors, then you¡¯ve got a big problem on your hands and they might take a city or two and fortify it before you can get a big enough army onsite to deal with them.


    Yeah, not interested in that, so I¡¯m going to spoil them.


    ¡°Very well, they will be found. Now¡­ will you allow me to be a good host, or is there more to do?¡± Crusher¡¯s voice and intonation was the same as always, but I¡¯ve spent enough time with him to know when he¡¯s joking. I raised my hands and chuckled, while shaking my head. More work for later then. He rang a bell and the servants returned, while he allowed himself to recline, which pretty much had him engulf nearly the whole sofa he sat at opposite of me. ¡°How goes your hunt for a bride? Will you be marrying that goddess of the Children of the Elm that¡¯s been found?¡±


    ¡°I thought work was over and that it¡¯s no longer time for business?¡±


    ¡°At least have a bastard or two out of wedlock, so there¡¯s some hope if you fall.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re moving on, Crusher.¡±


    ¡°Bah.¡±


    He grumbled, before laughing lightly, and I did as well.


    Right, time to relax for a bit, before burning the midnight oil later.

 V8: Chapter 14

    V8: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Traces of the vile beast were easy to find.


    It knew it was being pursued and was busy trying to make a force that could slow us down.


    However, its specialty lay in infiltration, and it was being pursued by seven Champions. Morgan, the Lich Slayer, and her two apprentices were reinforced by Riegert, the Holy Axe.  Myself, Mallory, and Christine were with them as we pursued the enemy through the formerly-held Academy lands seized by my people.


    So, it abandoned all pretense, fed, and left behind misbegotten husks.


    There were many forms of Undead. Skeletons and reanimated corpses were the most common and used even in our armies. However, there were types whose creation was not the mere reutilization of a corpse after the soul passed. There were many that were outlawed for their reprehensibility. For example, the taking apart of corpses to bind together into giant reanimated masses was unseemly and frowned upon, but the Corpse Giants were still used for combat and labor.  As unseemly their forms were, they were simply large zombies with more mass and muscle on large frames assembled from bones. The same result could be achieved by a Giant, Ogre, or Troll corpse, and none would complain.


    However, some creations of Necromancy were banned completely.


    Such as the creation of Ghouls.


    Ghouls are not truly dead, and the souls of the deceased have not truly parted, and they are the only form of lesser Undead capable of using magic to enhance their bodies. While they attack, their bodies break apart, their bones shatter, and their minds are filled with rage and hate and hunger. The soul feels it all, unable to control their instincts, while they are simply sources of power for body to summon arcane might and strength. Ghouls are abominable creations, outlawed by the Guardians, and any who create them are put to death for putting trapping a soul in the mortal realm to be torturously used for power.


    The creature we pursued was creating them by the dozens through the towns it ravaged for blood and sustenance.


    I whispered an apology to my citizen as I had my ancestors rip them from the mortal coil onward into the afterlife.


    Morgan gave a low whistle at the sight, as she casually approached with her students flanking her.


    ¡°That never gets old to watch. Ripping souls straight out of the body. Terrifying, right? That¡¯s why you always need to always have protections against magic on you. Or, you know, just have so much magic it doesn¡¯t work.¡± Morgan lectured her students, who both nodded intently at her words, and I buried my desire to order them to be silent. They were here and present to help as guests of my nation. Her weapon was at her side and she purely used knives hidden in her coat to dispatch the Ghouls. Her students both used spears¡­ for today. In every battle, she had them use different weapons. ¡°We found the rest of the villagers. They found shelter in a clearing an hour away from the town with some prebuilt structures there.¡±


    Christine piped up at Morgan¡¯s words.


    ¡°Any injured? Do we need to hasten the healers?¡±


    ¡°No. They dealt with any infected by the Ghouls. Very smart people here.¡± Morgan casually praised the fact that the survivors of the town dispatched their friends and family. It was the correct choice to make in the situation. Ghouls can transfer their madness and imprison the spirit of others within berserk bodies. Only those with sufficient power and protections can repel the effect. A healer with the right skills and education can dispel the magic, or empower a person¡¯s resistance long enough for the effect to not take hold. These people, without access to healers or with the power to repel the effect, had to kill their own townsfolk. ¡°They were lucky. They have a Necromancer with them that was in charge of building the structures they now inhabit. Mind telling us why you¡¯re putting up warehouses hidden in towns just a day or so away our border?¡±


    I didn¡¯t bother to lie.


    ¡°To fill with supplies and munitions for either a militia or a marching army away from the long lenses of your scouts.¡± Morgan only smiles at my admission. Their people stuck to their borders without question. However, many times our border patrols reported that they saw high-flying individuals exuding magic from across the border. They were looking upon us through all methods that they could think of. ¡°Would you rather we have them be out in the open so that your initial attacks can destroy them?¡±


    ¡°Ah, makes sense. Very prudent course of action on your end, Lady Celia.¡± Morgan¡¯s smile was ever present and she pushed up her glasses. Mallory and Christine bristled at her words, but the two sisters stayed silent. The intonation of her words were sing-song and juvenile, but the words themselves were without reproach. If this became a matter of who said what, if we confronted her, then it would be our complete loss. ¡°It¡¯s a shame that they weren¡¯t full of supplies, yet.¡±


    It was my turn to keep silent.


    The implication was clear that she was goading me by insinuating the people here would have survived, if the warehouse was properly stocked and guarded.


    Or, perhaps, she was implying that if we simply conceded and bent the knee that the warehouse would not be needed in the first place. Many of these villages lacked adequate protection. How many of our people would be saved if there was an able band of warriors and healers in every town? If there was a military base in this region that could deploy our forces within hours where they were needed? If we had Guardians ready to protect the town sealed in ice within cellars?


    But there is much else to do, oaths to keep, and there is a little time and little wealth to spare.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I took a steadying breath and replied.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Curtly and simply, I gave my answer to Morgan, who had the gall to pout at the lack of discontent I aimed her way. ¡°Let us sweep through the area for any remaining Ghouls, then reconvene back at camp. If all goes as planned, the creature who did this will have nowhere to run.¡±


    The rest of my honorguard is tightening the noose around the region and soon the creature that did this will be no more.


    ¡­


    The camp was small, cramped, and barely organized. A far cry from the camps I was used to, which were in the King of Wisdom¡¯s style. However, with the speed of our pursuit and the lack of preparation, it was enough.


    ¡°Mallory, see the survivors to safety for the evening, until their town is swept through. Make sure that they are given restitution for our failure in their protection.¡± Mallory bowed at my command and briskly walked forward to awaiting staff and messengers. The most important part of the camp was the ability to relay information and orders. That portion of the camp, I ensured the quality of. ¡°Christine, get in contact with the rest of my honor guard. I want status on the trap we¡¯ve set.¡±


    Bereft of flying transport, my people could implement our methods of pursuit with greater ease. Familiars roamed the sky and ground. The skeletal remains of game birds and small pests were now scouring the region. The eyes and ears they provided was without reproach. In their multitudes, it mattered now how many were found and killed by our prey. Besides them, we had our few fliers in the air scouring the region from up high, and they were ready to call in long-range attacks from our hives. The anti-air weapon developed to overcome the King of Wisdom¡¯s aerial superiority was proving itself to be a staple weapon in my forces.


    ¡°Anything you want me to do, Lady Celia?¡± Morgan reminded me that she was present with a glib tone accompanying her words. They followed our party on foot, while we rode on our spectral steed. They kept up without even being winded, save for Riegert, who simply told me that even with renewed youth he had little interest in youthful befitting the youth. The Lich Slayer had nary a drop of sweat on her brow and her breathing was even. Both her students were lightly sweating and breathing with some difficulty. ¡°Want a letter sent over to his highness?¡±


    ¡°You may create your report as you wish. If you place any falsehoods, know that I will address them directly to your king.¡± I ignored her goading words once again and dismounted. My spectral speed disappearing as soon as I disembarked. Two messengers came towards me and bowed before waiting to be addressed.  I directed one to Morgan, while addressing the other. ¡°Tighten the noose. Have mages at the ready.¡±


    ¡°My lady.¡± Tormund made his appearance. A skeletal being wreathed in pitch-black robes covered in false gold and jewels. His reliquary was hidden on his person, close enough that he can control the remains of his body from it and retain independence, but not so easily found. It was in none of the jewels or artifacts on his person, but instead in a false spinal disc encased in near-indestructible Citadel-based material. He can easily feign death with his form destroyed and take flight with the conductive material to another corpse. ¡°The weapon is ready.¡±


    ¡°Very good.¡± I followed him as he raised his head from a bow. Morgan directed the messenger I gave her to her apprentices and followed me. ¡°You already know, don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re too responsible to just go out hunting for pure recreation.¡± Morgan pointed out simply and gave a nod. We went together towards the largest tent in the camp. The product of months of careful work on my part. The guards stared at Morgan until I gave them the signal. We entered the room¡¯s temperature dropped. It was necessary to maintain the integrity of the flesh. At the center of the large, building-sized tent was a massive circle where a beast put together from the bodies of many others waited to be turned Undead. Based off the torso of a gryphon, it had the grafted head of a dragon and the organs needed to spew flame within it. A tail was added, which was a long and giant snake which spewed poison. The four claws of the creature were replaced with massive hands and wrists of ogres, so that I can more easily carry non-prey. Armor for the amalgamated undead creature waited on the sidelines. ¡°Good hunting, I see.¡±


    ¡°There are many monsters out there still. They¡¯re best made use of.¡± I touched one end of the ritual while Tormund went to the other. I provided power and he provided technique. The creature twitched for a moment, before its eyes opened and it arose. A great beast born from the parts and pieces of many others. The gaze of the creature¡¯s draconic head turned my way as did the head of the serpent, while wings unfurled to full length and the ogre hands it had as feet gripped the soil instinctively. ¡°They¡¯re for security or the attacking of Champions. They fare quite poorly against pike and shot.¡±


    ¡°Being the size of a barn doesn¡¯t help, yep. Still, with a fair amount of armor, it can be used to perform a charge. Once. Perhaps twice.¡± Morgan observed the creature with a faint smile, as if amused more than awed. Little could be said to truly make her interested. I was sure that there was only one person who could claim to have such an achievement. ¡°A few hundred wouldn¡¯t be bad to have as heavy cavalry.¡±


    My mood soured and I shot her a glare, earning me a wide, near-inhuman grin from Morgan.


    She knew I couldn¡¯t have anything else besides nobility for my heavy cavalry, as such an honored position was reserved for only them.


    ¡°Now, don¡¯t glare at me like that. Those are your treatises and your codices. The honor and justice of your people at fault.¡± Morgan was making her case, as usual, with a smile on her lips and a song in her heart. ¡°Now, if you were with us, we¡¯d love these beasties. We¡¯d layer them thick with armor, pump them up with alchemical reagents, and unleash them upon our foes. A few dozen of these would kill a Champion. Well, an average one, at least.¡±


    ¡°It is through tradition that the Guardians of the Moon have reached this far. From the ashes of complete destruction, the unmaking of the whole planet, we endured thanks to our treatises and codices.¡± I answered her as I watched the Amalgam heed Tormund¡¯s words and follow the Lich for it to be armored. Still, even as I rebuked her, the images made by her words were painfully clear. These monsters were abundant throughout all the continent. The parts and pieces were easy to acquire. If only I could use them as more than hunting dogs, then my people could have a cheap, disposable asset on the battlefield that functioned as heavy cavalry. ¡°Your people are alive thanks to a miracle. A once-in-a-millennia genius leads you, chosen by a warlord who perished the very night he acquired his Citadel, and who had a faithful lieutenant. The odds that the Descendants received all such things are astronomical.¡±


    ¡°Blaming fortune for poor results, Lady Celia? How unsporting of you.¡± Morgan tittered, holding her hand up as if to try and conceal her ever-present grin, and I almost scowled at her. I knew what she was doing. She was raising up altercations between us. Moments where feelings flared and memories were made. Her intentions were to make her existence bright and inescapable in my mind. Each moment was a stone to aid whatever lever she devised to try and wring me from my people to the King of Wisdom. ¡°With that logic, aren¡¯t your people lucky, too? That your ancestors made those codices and treaties that led your people to where you are now?¡±


    I could not stop the frown that formed on my lips at her words.


    No.


    Not at her words.


    At the implication that what led us through the ages was equal to the King of Wisdom.


    It was the greatest mockery on her part to imply that the ¡®fortune¡¯ that we received was equal to¡ª


    I forced myself to stop walking, while Morgan just hummed and walked ahead, as I stared at the ground between my own two feet.


    When?


    When did I start looking upon the works that guided us through the ages since the Ancient¡¯s fall as lesser than Jack?

 V8: Epilogue Part 1

    V8: Epilogue


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    The creature was trapped.


    The skies were filled with Familiars, Lady Celia''s honorguard were closing in, and Morgan merely awaited the signal to strike. The northern portion of the town was being cleared by Lady Celia and the twin Vampire Knights she kept by her side. I ventured into battle with the two apprentices that Morgan took and trained to be Champions.


    Despite their youth, I could tell by their gait and their alertness that they were not burdens to me in my current task.


    And, what a task it was.


    The slaying of an Ancient weapon once used by the Academy to maintain its edge over the rest of the continent.


    Many suspected that such a being existed. It was not uncommon for Champions to perish if they were outside the Academy''s sphere of influence. There were plans amongst small groups of confidants to lure it out, to gain knowledge of it, and perhaps even kill it, but nothing bore fruit. The conspirators often disappeared or perished or suddenly became wastrels under the Academy''s payroll.


    Thus the solution to survive was to simply abide by the Academy''s will.


    Now, though, the Academy was long gone and that terrible creature faced retribution.


    Leonardo and Maryline, along with many other Champions now rising to power, were to never feel the invisible blade of the Academy at their neck.


    I was almost jealous.


    "Sir, I just felt a spike of power." Leonardo gained my attention with his words, but I did not turn his way. I focused my own senses. There, as he said, a spike of power common to the use of magic came from the northern sector. A moment passed and a great pillar of flame erupted. "Do we attack or should see if the beast can bring low one of the Guardians'' assets?"


    "We''re pursuing a Champion. One created by the Ancients, but just another Champion. It can''t kill three Champions by itself." Maryline spoke up from over my right shoulder. "Sir, I recommend that we move in as swiftly as possible. With some fortune, we can earn further favor from the Guardians by moving in quickly."


    Both made proposals and wordlessly kept up with me as I sped up towards the fight, after firing a bolt of green flame in the air to signal Morgan to reveal herself and attack.


    "Expand your senses, burnish your souls, and mantle your magics. Focus on finding traps and making sure the enemy cannot escape." I instructed them as we moved and I focused my gaze forward. Doing one of the things I asked of them should have been a challenge at their age. Instead, they did as I asked and enrobed themselves in magic, sent their senses ahead of us, and wreathed themselves in charms and enhancements without breaking stride. Either of these two would be scouted by the Academy for their prowess, if they attended the eponymous school. "Keep five paces away from me, and ready yourselves for battle!"


    I charged forward, filling myself with power, and layering on immense protections on my person and activating all my armor''s gifts. Sound became a keening constant din everywhere unless I focused upon it. My vision became so clear and sharp I could see dust falling from a hundred paces away. Beneath my skin, in my muscle, it felt like energy was coursing through my veins incessantly and begging to be released. My thoughts accelerated, as I needed a faster mind and reflexes to keep up with the enhancements of my body, and a savage thrill threated to rip a battle cry from my lips.


    However, I held fast and charged forward to go to Lady Celia''s aid wordlessly and as silently as possible.


    Through streets, through allies, and over buildings, I charged forward, my surroundings no more than a blur of passing colors and light.


    Then, I reached the edge of the battlefield and found Lady Celia and her Knights confronted a terrible creature.


    It was like a mass of blood and flesh and magic. Parts and pieces of the creatures orbited the larger mass of tangled muscle and solid, flowing blood. It was less of a whole person and more parts and pieces suspended in a field of its own magic. The soul was nearly entirely separate from the body, the body itself more like limbs and parts of substance for it to interact with the world.


    And, it was a horrific body.


    Many bodies were missing, even after accounting for the Ghouls, and now we found them.


    This creature took the bodies of mages and veterans who settled the frontier of the Guardians to empower itself, just as we''d suspected.


    For a moment, I hesitated.


    Should I give orders or attack with the element of surprise?


    The two following me answered for me.


    Maryline surged past me with bladed spear in hand and became a whirlwind of slashing strikes at the creature''s ''back. '' It shrieked with disdain and refocused some of its body from facing the onslaught by Celia and her knights to defending against her. Maryline was wreathed in white flame that weakened and burned the arcane control the creature had over the flesh and blood it controlled. The creature recoiled at her presence, while she pressed onward, and forced it towards the onslaught of the Guardian''s leader and her two knights.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I reached her side, following her example, and brandishing my axe whilst covering myself in holy magic. The songs of choirs at the temple resounded in my mind. The tales of the Ancients, the magics they left us, and the gifts that lay hidden deep below and within our bodies echoed within my soul. Thus, my axe was wreathed with golden light, and the creature shrieked and turned to face me after a singular swing nearly parted its existence in twain.


    Leonardo''s attack came into being at that moment, heralded by a long spike with a two-pronged head that embedded itself into the ground at the creature''s nexus.


    A lightning prong.


    There was a flash, then sound of thunder, and creature screamed in pain and agony while a wave of pressure and shards of road shot out from the point of impact. Leonardo was the more magically adept of the two, while Maryline the better fighting at the melee. However, as Champions, they were expected to be very capable at both and hold their ground against hundreds of common soldiers.


    However, in this battle, they stuck to their strengths and I approved.


    I charged through the shockwave, focusing on my magical senses, and looked for the true essence of the creature. The Wraith was more a spirit that took over a physical body, rather than a true Undead creature. The flesh that it had was more tools than anchoring points for its existence upon the mortal realm. Thus, it was imperative that it needed to be struck with magic and various forms of energy, as merely bludgeoning, cutting, or breaking apart the physical portions of its self would do little damage.


    I found the creature in the corner of the battlefield, the center of all the limbs and stolen body parts was just a decoy, albeit still a part of the creature. It was allowing nonvital parts of its body to be attacked and to attack in turn, while keeping its true vital spots away from conflict.


    However, I did not earn my title as the Holy Axe fighting tribal beasts and feral monsters.


    The Undead in all their forms filled the dark depths of the ruins that I had delved into long ago, and I learned how to deal with everything from ghouls to phantoms.


    This creature, as different as it was, remained Undead.


    It noticed me making my way towards it and pulled itself back at breakneck speed. The amalgam of flesh and energy coalesced into a singular body. Now that it knew its ruse was seen through, it focused on amplifying its defenses and strength around its vitals instead of looking for a path to escape. Unfortunately for it, all the bodies it gathered, condensed, and reformed into a red construct of rippling muscle covered in wailing, gnashing mouths and hundreds of bloodshot eyes¡­ it was still Undead.


    My axe bit through its flesh and armor and tore through its protections with ease, and I felt it panic as it realized what was happening.


    "No!" Its voice was slow, garbled, and through all the thousands of mouths that it had. The eyes all over its body glowed and flames washed over my armor, while the mouths grew fangs and surged upon me like innumerable tendrils and tried to find purchase on my flesh. My armor protected me from both the attacks, nothing reaching my flesh, and its weight allowed me to not be pushed back. My swing continued. "No! How dare you, mortal!"


    Its death throes were much like any other mad immortal beast sitting upon the gifts of the Ancients.


    Pathetic.


    I completed my swing and the creature''s front came apart with a deluge of blood and power.


    The vital core of the creature, its metaphysical form condensed into a hardy sphere within its body, was revealed while all its flesh tried to enclose upon it again.


    My allies for the battle pounced at the opening.


    There was a resounding shot from a large revolver, and in the corner of my vision, a silver bullet covered in enchantments streaked by. It was wreathed by vengeful spirits bound to the leader of the Guardians of the Moon. The tip of the bullet collided with the strong shell protecting the creature''s soil, and instead of bouncing off and being stopped, it kept speeding up, digging into the sphere like a drill, as the vengeful spirits inhabiting the bullets eagerly powered the enchantments upon it and urged it to find its mark and kill.


    The two knights soon reached my flanks along with Maryline. They worked together seamlessly, hacking away at the Wraith''s attempts to attack me, while I gathered power for another swing to keep it from hiding its true heart. The creature formed the limbs of monsters from the corpses it took over, immense limbs with claws and scales or thick bands of muscle and immense digits, to simply throw me aside. All of it was cut down by the flurry of blades presented by the vampiric knights and the melee-adroit Maryline.


    As if on cue, on the moment I wondered where he was, Leonardo struck.


    The lighting prong lifted into the air and changed shape, becoming a coiling drill. The large rod was compressed and compressed with magic, until it went from being a meter tall to just the size of a fist, and the moment it was formed it surged forward into the sphere and began to drill through the defenses of the Wraith. More and more joined the singular drill even as it wore itself out and broke, being made of normal steel instead of enchanted and specialized, replacing each drill as it broke and the scarlet shell of the creature began to wear down and break. At the same time, I felt wards settle upon myself and the others, making it so that the flames being cast by the innumerable eyes sputtering not against armor but against magical protection.


    The Wraith screamed in agony and in hate at us, throwing out its magic with all the force and strength that it can muster, and shielding its core.


    Maryline and the two knights were thrown black. They were not ready to experience such a last-ditch attack, nor were they heavily armored for the task due to inexperience. One day, they will be clad in heavy armor and such an assault will not even break their step, but it was not this day. With the great flood of magic came the drills created by Leonardo and the repelling of the haunted shell that Lady Celia sent forth. The spirits cried out in hate as their housing was repelled, and as their target began to be covered with flesh.


    Leonardo and Celia were both quick to act, though, as they were at the fringes at the outburst of power.


    Another bullet was fired and it connected with the previous one. Power was imparted into both, and they spun together in the air and barreled into the cracking sphere that held the creature''s heart. Leonardo took the broken shards of metal that still held his power and had them embed and push against the flesh threatening to cover the sphere in a protective layer. Like a line of men-at-arms holding against an encroaching enemy, the shards of metal barely fond purchase against the reinforced flesh, but they did their duty and kept critical strike open.


    Allowing me to finish gathering power.


    The dust from the creature''s last-ditch attack cleared as I sent forth a burst for wind, and I found my target with my eyes instead of my passive senses.


    The glowing scarlet orb was swirling with power and screaming faces of the creature''s victims¡­ and I did not hesitate to put all that I could behind a simple, downward strike with my axe.


    The sphere held against my strike, even with all my might behind it. Less like a glittering jewel, as it appeared to be, the final protection of the Wraith reminded me of the Citadel''s materials when formed into a wall. It was easier to break through a Citadel Guardian''s body than attack the sphere. However, I knew that I couldn''t relent¡­ and that I did not have to conserve my strength.


    Though decades passed since I last used it, I roared and pushed my body past its limits. I felt my bones creak and groan and some break as my muscles engorged and threatened to rip through my skin. Conqueror blessings were no trifling matter. Too much of it killed even the hardiest of their Champions. However, there was no choice, I needed to at least carve through the shell, and so I did. I felt fractures form up my hands to my shoulders, and it felt as though my spine was going to burst through my spine¡­ but before it did my axe went through the orb''s protections.


    There was a great cracking sound, thousands of shards of crimson material glittered in the air, and within the depths of the orb a yellow eye in darkness looked at me with fear.


    No.


    Not me.


    At Morgan, who landed on the shaft of my axe the moment I completed my swing, and in two hands she wielded the now-blessed blade that the Academy used to corrupt the Conquerors.


    It was almost poetic, as she threw the great, two-handed blade forwarded, and the creature wordlessly tried to intercept it. Every ounce of magic that it had, every bit of flesh it commanded, surged forward upon the speeding blade thrown like a knife¡­ only for all its attacks to come undone in the presence of the reborn weapon it once used to corrupt Crusher.


    The blade found its mark, entering the opening I created, and for a moment I thought that the blade did not find its mark.


    Then, Morgan kicked the pommel of the blade and drove the whole blade through the creature, skewering the core, and sending both the weapon and the target into the building behind it.


    It was good that Ilych had a strong rival to contend against.

 V8: Epilogue part 2

    V8: Epilogue part 2


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    The remains of the Wraith materialized after the destruction of its core.


    Or, rather, when its true form was killed in the shell that it was housed.


    ¡°It is much like a Lich, but not like a Lich.¡± Tormund hovered over the small creature. It reminded me of a large insect pupa, but it had the face of a man. Within the red orb that it inhabited, it provided immense power to the body that it inhabited. No. The more accurate term was chassis. It used flesh that it took from powerful creatures and mortals and reformed it into a chimera-like abomination. ¡°Its ability to phase through objects is a form of projection. It most likely kills an individual within a defensive line, then takes control of it from outside while hidden.¡±


    ¡°If its range is across a whole town, that will make it quite the infiltrator.¡± Catherine came to examine the creature at my request. My teacher was typically assisting in managing the security of our lands. Few things were more important than ensuring that we could find spies, now that we can make the King of Wisdom bleed if he tried to take our lands through warfare. ¡°I imagine the methods it implements also circumvents issues that I would face when proper protections are in place. You say this Wraith managed to go through enchanted walls and defenses?¡±


    There are very few Phantoms in existence. Most of them were under our employ. My teacher could turn invisible and phase through solid objects. She told me that it was like floating and swimming blindly through the darkness, and if she found herself faced with a mage or even a normal guard armed with a magical knife after such an act, then she would swiftly perish. Too much of her power would be expended for her to defend herself. Imbuing walls and structures with even passive improvements to their defense would also soundly rebuff her and her kindred.


    But such was not the case for this Wraith.


    The reports were sparse, and information regarding the extent of its abilities was old and from worn texts.


    Jack¡¯s Champions were not interested in sharing their findings during its pursuit, either.


    But the fact remained that it was an asset that we could not ignore.


    An infiltrator that can double as a warrior, who can take over bodies, and required magic to defeat?


    It would be a powerful Champion.


    Or, if we could not produce such a Champion, then powerful agents and forces on the field.


    My teacher obviously realized my intentions as I looked upon the creature.


    ¡°The Council will not approve of this¡­ but I agree that we have need of such creatures. I am hearing troubling reports all over the coalition. Rumors of people with many faces and forms that disappear when pursued.¡± Catherine spoke, and Tormund nodded at the head of the table. He held out his skeletal hands and began to chant, while glass was lowered around the corpse. He was storing it in a vacuum for transit back to the Citadel where more specialists can pour over the creature and determine how to create more. ¡°The Forgers are beside themselves and they¡¯ve replaced their lead inspector twice already.¡±


    ¡°What have the Merchants and the Wardens done?¡± One of our few unified fronts was in clandestine operations. We agreed that we should work together to glean knowledge and information from Jack¡¯s lands. It was partly because how advanced and how much farther ahead he was. Though I was sure that we all wished to spy upon one another, it would be a waste of time and effort if we did. It was simply better to infiltrate his lands and gain more from the same effort. ¡°Have they been replacing their people, as well?¡±


    ¡°The Merchants operate with a team-based system that watches one another. One or two fall away from the group and they¡¯re replaced, but they¡¯ll establish themselves quickly. As for the Wardens¡­ they¡¯re busy. They won¡¯t say much, but I¡¯m hearing rumors of their lands becoming less unified as of late.¡±


    I closed my eyes and put myself in Jack¡¯s shoes as well as I could.


    When I opened them again, a cruel truth that I tried to ignore once I allied with the Wardens came to light.


    ¡°Khalai and his people are the only ones that will never surrender. Their fanaticism towards their religion will have them fight to the end, unless extraordinary circumstances arise.¡± I could see him breaking each faction down, weighing each of against one another. My people are recovering as our lands were the most affected by the Death Lord. The Merchants are still in disarray. The Forgers are insular and at us like people to subjugate. Meanwhile, the Wardens received his assistance once their received their Citadel, they¡¯ve had time to find their bearings, and they have not had to engage in any wars in their territory. Unified behind a single goal, with an untouched industrial base, and with the ability to resurrect past Saints and their fallen¡­ it was obvious that they were his main target now. ¡°The question is if we should move to assist them.¡±


    I would have never asked those words before.


    Honor demanded that I march to assist Khalai and his people against any attack, big or small, mounted by the King of Wisdom against him.


    However, the Wardens were fanatics, and they demanded all worship as they do.


    One of their demands to ally with us, along with connecting their Citadel to ours, was that their religion would become the official religion of our lands. It took much negotiation, and they were only satisfied when they were informed that they would be able to do their missionary work as they pleased without interference as well as sell their literature to our populations.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    We merely delayed the inevitable.


    Their temples have spread across our lands, their books and writings and music have begun to permeate the streets, and their priests and priestesses perform more rites and ceremonies with every passing day. There were some people in the Council who were intent on countering them, of extolling our own virtues and culture amongst our people, but they were too slow and too late with their proposals. Their long lives have clouded their vision, and they lack understanding of how fast the present moves.


    But they are powerful, wealthy, and influential over the people that I rule, thus I have need of their strength.


    ¡°Send a message to Khalai informing him of our findings. It may lead him to finding the source of discontent in his lands. If we find anything more, then we can provide more. However, we will not intervene militarily or provide further support.¡± Catherine bowed her head at my words and followed me. The camp was being disassembled and everything was being placed on wagons. People were returned to their homes and the former lands of the Academy under our control were now set to be productive once again. This may be the last time I visit these lands peacefully. ¡°I worry more of the Forgers. I suspect that they will make use of the opportunity when the Wardens fall apart. They can be held in check by us and the Wardens, but without them, they will prey upon the Merchants.¡±


    ¡°It may turn into a race for the Merchant Citadel. A bloody one that might have the Merchants fight against everyone to try and retain the cornerstone of their nation. If it is lost, they will have nothing.¡± Catherine floated beside me. She adopted a ballgown with a parasol as we walked together. She turned heads. A gray lady in the middle of the day dressed for an evening ball, but in a forest clearing. I appreciated it. She was shielding me from attention. ¡°Or, they¡¯ll make a move of the Wardens.¡±


    ¡°No, they know that attacking the Wardens would unify the peoples of that land. They¡¯ll let them fall, especially since they counter them strongly.¡± The speed and numbers of the Wardens would allow them to overwhelm the Forgers with time. Many would perish, crushed by the sheer strength of the Forgers, but the Wardens would win the war. Their weapons can pierce Forger armor, and they held the advantage in numbers. Not only that, but they may be able to sway the ¡®lower castes¡¯ of the Forgers to leave their ¡®betters.¡¯ The Forgers could find victory, but only if they concede more of their population than they cared to lose. Thus, they would allow the Wardens to destroy themselves, and they would attack the Merchants. The lands of the Guardians are, after all, too much for them to surmount as well. ¡°We must keep our gaze towards the Merchants, if the Wardens begin to crumble. I shall contact Executive Harper.¡±


    Catherine was about to speak, ready to continue to inform me, when the beating of massive wings reached my ears.


    I turned upward towards the sight of the messenger and felt my stomach drop at the sight of black wings.


    We had very few capable couriers, so we adopted Jack¡¯s design to have a dedicated courier of riders.


    Since the black, winged horses were the swiftest, we adopted them for the task as he did.


    Usually, I always had two such messengers with me, ready to relay my orders to my Citadel.


    Another pair was at the Citadel, waiting only to send messages solely to me.


    They were only to be used for events of the greatest importance.


    Events that would shake the entire continent.


    I waited with bated breath until the messenger arrived, weary and tired from so harshly pushing themselves to reach me swiftly, and I bid that they be taken care of.


    The simple envelope that messenger carried felt like a dangerous artifact in my hands. One that I dared not activate.


    Still, I knew that I had to.


    And, so, I broke the seal and read the contents and felt a great and terrible weight fall upon my shoulders.


    I almost tore the paper apart instead of handing it to Catherine for her to read.


    ¡°He found one of the lost Pantheon.¡± My words were a half-whisper and a half-growl. The urge to strike at something, anything, almost surmounted me. However, I was surrounded by my soldiers and my people. People who looked to me for leadership and strength. Such weakness could not be tolerated. ¡°The Goddess of Life of the Children of the Elm.¡±


    ¡°¡­The expeditions they were sending out weren¡¯t merely for scouting. They were searching for Ancient facilities near the continent. Facilities too dangerous to place here, but too vital to keep away from the defenses.¡± Catherine spoke softly, and I took a deep breath. I stalked to my wagon, furious, but doing my best to control myself. Frustration welled up inside me. All my efforts, all my works, and all my accomplishments¡­ were they all destined to falter and fail in comparison to him? ¡°Celia¡ª


    ¡°I know. We need to send out our own. Now. We¡¯ll press the nobility to do it. They can¡¯t refuse this call. It was our duty to protect their rise to prominence and we failed.¡± It was long ago, longer than even the oldest of my people, but we remembered. We were the protectors of the realm. The Conquerors were the military arm of the Ancients, their strongest sword against their foes, but we were the protectors of it all. When the Ancients were on the cusp of victory, when they were set to begin controlling reality itself, we failed them. The Pantheon was targeted, many were destroyed and others were lost to time, and we believed that we failed in our most sacred of duties. Until now. ¡°They will answer, they will expend themselves, and after they do¡­ we will take power.¡±


    ¡°Celia?¡± Catherine¡¯s voice was filled with apprehension for a moment, before she steeled herself. ¡°Do you truly mean that?¡±


    ¡°I do. The Council has held us back for too long. We can¡¯t afford this any longer.¡± Catherine listened intently. I wondered if she would strike me down, if my teacher had any alliance besides to me. However, I was ready as well. I had my hand on my blade and another on my revolver. My spirits were restless, responding the maddening frustration in my heart. Enough. I have had enough. ¡°We must act more quickly, we must be less constrained, and we cannot continue to simply react.¡±


    I have already begun moving towards this path, as I have been training my own Champions, but I¡¯ve been too slow.


    Jack held absolute dominion over his lands, as well as knowledge that I could not surmount. However, if he only had the latter, he would fare poorly. If he had a council constraining his moves, if there were people to refuse his decrees, then he would not achieve as much as he has. Meanwhile, I could not compare to him as a leader, yet I was constrained by a council while he was not.


    I had to remove them from the equation, or at least curtail their influence, if I wanted a singular chance at victory.


    ¡°We¡¯ll have them compete and surge outward towards the unknown lands. Many will falter and they will fall. We¡¯ll move in to take over what they leave behind, and create replacements. Find the most amenable and understanding amongst them, and we will retain them for our future conflicts.¡± I feared Catherine would call me a usurper or a betrayer, but she simply nodded at my words, while I boarded my stagecoach. Mallory and Christine were approaching swiftly and they noticed my foul mood from a distance. Their gazes were tight as Catherine gave them the letter detailing the latest leap the King of Wisdom has managed. ¡°Search for mercenaries, as well, and find all the Necromancers and Liches under our employ. I will have Undead working in factories, tilling fields, and other onerous tasks by the end of the season.¡±


    We cannot continue like this.


    We cling too strongly to traditions and laws passed down through the ages, and now we are behind.


    So ludicrously behind that it was almost laughable.


    I didn¡¯t even know if we could catch up, even if I became a tyrant and forced change after change upon my people.


    However, I did know one thing.


    I will struggle until the very end to match the King of Wisdom.

 V9: Chapter 1

    V9: Chapter 1


    ¡­


    Manipulating the AI into doing what you want is easy, even on the most unfair difficult setting.


    Set yourself up nicely, win fights, and don¡¯t fuck up.


    There you go.


    The problem is that there¡¯s more than one AI.


    Do all of that and you basically get to enjoy getting every enemy faction allying with one another and cutting you down to just your starting region.


    Dataminers on the forums could get more into the specifics, but the general theme is that the enemy AI looks at what you have on the board, but doesn¡¯t react to your ¡®hand.¡¯ Having resources in the bank or higher stats for your cities doesn¡¯t count. The enemy looks at your assets. The number of tile improvements you have, the number of buildings, and how many armies that you have. Naturally, the AI needs to research the right techs and scout, before they can act on that information.


    So, playing against the game in the highest difficulty setting i.e. non-bitch mode, requires knowing the game like the back of one¡¯s hand, being able to mitigate any bad events that occur, and knowing when to capitalize on an advantage with overwhelming force.


    Play enough matches, and you see the habits of the AI, how they react to what you do, and you generally start to understand their timings and strategies.


    Unfortunately, when the AI decide to fight each other, everything starts getting real fucky and hard to predict. Any competent player can play out the one-v-one against an AI. The game devs, though, had fun setting up different rules for their AI to fight against one another and randomize things a lot. A normally aggressive faction will turtle and work on their economy. A diplomatic faction will start mainlining combat tech trees and pumping out units. The economists will start breaking down their tile improvements and start building up high-upkeep military defenses.


    Once the AI stop interacting with each other, you look at them, and they¡¯re nothing like you expect.


    In short, the AI in the game interact and randomize each other the longer the game goes on. Couple that with the randomized nature of events after the tutorial section, the different results of the questlines each different Faction Leader has, which Champions survived or died, and things naturally get weird. No game is the same, because the circumstances with each game is different, and every faction develops differently from the start up until the finish.


    That¡¯s what makes the game fulfilling and repayable.


    Every start of a new run, you¡¯re not sure who you¡¯ll be facing off at the end, and once you reach the end, they¡¯ll be different from the normal faction you expect. If enough events trigger, and enough questlines pop, you might even look at a wholly different faction than you faced off at the start. Sometimes, they¡¯ll even have a different leader, perks, and units.


    It makes every run of the game different and interesting.


    Unfortunately, different and interesting are both fucking horrible to deal with in reality.


    ¡­


    Good news: the Children of the Elm were flocking all over and consolidating under the Goddess of Life that we¡¯ve found. This in turn has led to a large increase in our population, and that population being surprisingly truthful and planning long-term rebellions according to our Iterant agents in their population. They were happy to just focus on helping their goddess gain power, started cultivating forests, and participating more in agriculture. All things that led to increased outputs in our forestry industry and our food industry, which allowed me to shift workforces around to other areas, since our storages would be filled in months if we kept everything the same.


    The Children of the Elm were also very interested in becoming more productive members of society and interacting more with everyone. It was probably linked to the Goddess of Life. Maybe, there was some lore about them having a strong connection to her, or maybe being in her presence revived the portions of their genetics that stopped them from being genocidal maniacs. I was still going to watch them, and have the knives ready to slip just in case, but by all means it looked like the elves were going to be a significant force in the future.


    By that, of course, I hoped that they¡¯ll give actual bonuses, offer me their special units, and give me access to their technologies. As they were now, they were just people slightly better at managing and working in the agricultural centers. If I could get the massive production bonuses they get from forests, their long-range units, and maybe even their Champions, I¡¯d say that the Goddess of Life is a good find instead of a suboptimal one.


    However, as always, there¡¯s always a negative reaction to major events like this one from the AI.


    ¡°Guess Celia pulled the trigger.¡± The Undead in the game were specialized towards low upkeep units and high production. Their in-game questline decides if they¡¯ll continue fielding massive amounts of decent Undead units, or if they start fielding specialized Undead like Vampires and Liches in the late game. The Noble path or the Revolutionary path. It looked like Celia picked the latter. ¡°That¡¯s going to be a big problem.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t believe she¡¯ll be able to sway her supporters to her cause?¡± Khanrow was hanging around, so we had the meeting in the massive surveillance center under the Citadel. All around us, there were hundreds of Iterants interacting with the terminals of the Citadel. They were monitoring anyone outside of their homes. Most people just warranted a quick scan, to see if they¡¯re doing fine, but some people were always watched. Scholars that were top of their fields with access to valuable information. Craftspeople that were manufacturing armor for our flying castles. That sort of thing. ¡°So far, her changes have brought only praise.¡±


    ¡°Praise from the common people. After all, they¡¯re benefiting from it immensely.¡± Off the top of my head, the revolutionary reforms were semi-Soviet in style. The new factories manned by skeletons and zombies output ridiculous amounts of goods and food. Many people will never have to worry about food, housing, or goods needed for daily living. The problem is that¡¯s a massive slap to the face of the meritocracy espoused by the nobles of the Guardians of the Moon. Nobles who happened to have immense amounts of wealth, power, and influence thanks to being immortals who¡¯ve lived for centuries and who are also the cornerstone over Celia¡¯s monopoly over violence. ¡°The nobility of the Guardians will recoil from it, they will demand it shut down, Celia will refuse, and there will be blood.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    No matter what happens, no matter who wins, at least ten percent of the Guardian population will be gone before it ends.


    Most players think it¡¯s a decent price to pay for specializing into either route, but those are people playing with pixels.


    Here?


    Now?


    History is going to be scratched out of blood-soaked pages.


    ¡°Hm. I¡¯ll have my agents there keep an eye on things. Perhaps, you¡¯ll be wrong for once.¡±


    ¡°I hope so, especially since we have our hands full with the Wardens. If something happens there, we¡¯re not able to move.¡± Our resources for espionage were tied up with the Wardens. We could squeeze the treasury and get people over there to see the revolution end in our favor, but that squeeze would be on our budding war chest. We can¡¯t afford it without shooting ourselves in the foot, therefore we can¡¯t afford it all. ¡°If your agent there is good, I want you to keep Celia alive. Or, at the very least, her cause.¡±


    ¡°Affection for your old schoolmate?¡±


    ¡°The ideas she¡¯s proposing now are needed. Undead working in factories, masses of Undead taking the field, and using the hundreds and hundreds of years of corpses at our feet to our advantage? That¡¯s something we would be grateful to have.¡± Khanrow¡¯s eyes widened at my statement, as he saw the picture. In-game lore for the Undead collectivists stated that they changed the paradigm of war around necromancy completely, practically to the point where they can send a Lich with some support and establish bases that spew forth Undead nonstop at their enemies. That was a paradigm shift towards real-time strategy where only the number of corpses in a region mattered along with the energy lines in the region. Basically, a commander-style RTS, but with Undead. ¡°At the very least, we need them to discover and encode their ideas, and maybe take in a splinter faction adherent to them. It¡¯s basically a line of thinking that we can¡¯t afford to ignore, because of the benefits that they offer.¡¯


    ¡°I see. I¡¯d want a few hundred thousand Undead swamping my foes as well. At the very least, it¡¯ll slow them down while we get big enough guns on them.¡± Khanrow agreed, and pretty much outlined one of the best strategies to use with such a force. Swamp the enemy with shitty, but free units, then pour artillery on the enemy. Sure, it¡¯ll get rid of some of your own troops, but why would that matter when you can just keep pulling up more remains from the ground and shunting them towards the enemy? The only way to stop it is with incredible micro, target fire with artillery, or some air units if the enemy doesn¡¯t have defenses or their own air units. ¡°Right. I¡¯ll get that assignment figured out.¡±


    I gave the guy a nod, before moving onto the next move we were set to make.


    Sending an expedition out into the ocean, since we had a greater chance of finding the War Goddess floating around there than over here.


    And, honestly, any of the Ancient Wonders from the seas will be a great help in keeping our coastal regions secure against the squids.


    Man, I hoped that the Forgers were dealing with the early events of those guys.


    Otherwise, they¡¯re going to get everyone killed by giving the squids a population boom.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Grimnar


    ¡­


    The village stank of rotten fish and corpses with burst torsos.


    ¡°We¡¯re too late. This place is lost. Set it aflame.¡± I dedicated my life to hunting these creatures after my failure to save the Trueborn. My betters understood my method of penance. They took from me my luxuries and gave me a cell and cot and fed me nutrients. Outside of my work, I only trained to kill more of the creatures, and at work I furthered the cause to kill them. Now, I led the foremost organization dedicated to killing the creatures. We pursued them outside the tunnels now, having routed them from our home. ¡°If there are any survivors, have them be seen by physicians. Guarded physicians.¡±


    ¡°We should not waste time.¡± Henrick growled. He was born for war and conflict. He stood nearly as tall as a descendant by was as wide as Trueborn. He gave his body and mind over to our people after learning his genetic inferiority. He could no longer father children with his enhancements, and his life will be only a decade or two longer, but it was a small price to pay. He can give his all to the Trueborn. ¡°Any alive no longer have minds of their own. They are infiltrators.¡±


    ¡°It is likely, but there are some who could have hid and escaped their powers. This size of an attack means that there is a hive in the region. Even a faint direction will be of use.¡± Henrick gave a guttural grunt at my words. His visage and body were entirely encased in armor. The hissing of pipes and valves informed me that the machines keeping him alive were at work. The pain must have been immense, but he bore it all for the Trueborn. The pain relievers he was given would rob him of combat potential, so he did not use them. Only for rest and sleep. ¡°Loretta, have you found a trace?¡±


    Loretta was carried on a palanquin by re-educated undesirables clad in black. They had no tongues, and their ability to reproduce taken from them. Their eyes were glassy and bereft of will. Two had fresh scars beneath their eyes signifying that their induction was recent. There were many such flesh golems now. There were many who tried to betray the nation and flee to other lands. Cowards and traitors all. That their flesh could provide some penance was a mercy that they did not deserve.


    Loretta was confined in a great machine held by the flesh golems. Like Henrick, she gave her body to the Trueborn. Her machine was meant to replace the use of a staff and artifact. Her visage was lovingly crafted onto the vessel. That of a beautiful Trueborn, stoic, and passionate with a vengeful glare. It was the only face the she will have after being sealed in her machine. The machine hummed as it collected magic from the air and gave her far more power than any mortal could. Her magic was strong and sent a tingling sensation across the surface of my skin, despite my defenses. It was sent from her and probably reached the horizon.


    There was a moment, then through magic script she spoke to us from where she rested forevermore.


    Few were as valiant as her, willing to give everything to the harvesters, until naught but a head remained and kept alive by magic to remain in service.


    I read her report and relayed it to the others.


    ¡°Loretta has found none in this area, but be aware that some may be hidden.¡± They could burrow swiftly into the ground and wait in there for weeks without movement. They barely needed to breathe and think while comatose, but still their tendrils could detect while covered in dirt and ground. If someone got too close, if they entered the range of the abomination that dared use even Trueborn as hosts for their eggs, they would be swiftly killed and used by the creature to further its own ends. ¡°Henrick, I want you on patrol. Keep an eye out for any survivors. Trust your nose.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Henrick¡¯s voice was guttural and his gait heavy, but he moved forward into the destroyed town. In each hand, he carried sheathed great axes whose metal surfaces were coated with metals that emitted invisible rays. Cuts by his weapons ensured death even against people with strong regenerative properties, such as our foes. His toughened hide and organs and armor protected him, but few could fight in his presence. He was a solitary figure, fighting alone, for the Trueborn. He had my utmost respect. ¡°I will find these creatures and kill them.¡±


    He moved forward while Loretta stayed close to continue passively providing scanning the region.


    More and more attacks were being aimed at our Resource Extraction Hubs by the creatures, targeting the servile populations of mortals who acknowledged the might of the Trueborn.


    Though these people were not Trueborn, they were above me, Loretta, and Henrick.


    They were allowed to have children, multiply, and serve the Trueborn by working at these Resource Extraction Hubs.


    They deserved our protection, even if was at the cost of our own lives.

 V9: Chapter 2

    V9: Chapter 2


    ¡­


    Since everyone was hunkering down and getting their shit together, it was time for me to keep pushing my lead.


    In-game, there are quite a few things that players can do to catch up. The primary one is to ally like the Dwarves, Undead, Dark Elves, and Beast Tribes did. Allies share Citadel level, and that¡¯s a massive boost that you get to keep even after you stop being allies. Even in-game with NPCs, you can find another NPC faction that¡¯s losing like you, and you can send them an ally request and they¡¯ll accept it, especially if you¡¯re across the map.


    There even used to be bugs where people would just ally NPC factions at the start of the game after finding them and get an upgraded Citadel early. People stopped doing that when they realized that NPCs can usually make better use of the extra resources than them. The devs kept the option available, but made it chance based, and if you failed to make an alliance you¡¯d lose your Leader and Citadel. Meaning, that you received a game over.


    What¡¯s the chance of the NPC faction accepting and not fucking you over instantly?


    10%.


    It also deletes the most recent autosave and save, if you didn¡¯t turn the option off in the settings, so rerolling it loses you at least a few turns.


    The devs really understand that gamers will do crazy stuff again and again nonstop¡­ if there isn¡¯t fifteen minute period between each attempt.


    What was I talking about again?


    Right, catch-up mechanics.


    At the highest difficulty level, with all the crises coming at you, usually restarting is your best bet. All you¡¯ll be doing is delaying the inevitable. However, below that level and with just one or two apocalypses coming your way, then you can make use of a lot of mechanics. Use the intrigue layer to steal money or tech from your opponents. Wall up your chokepoints and farm random events with your new Champions, so that they can level up and take the place of those you lost. Start improving tiles like crazy and get buildings for your districts that reduce happiness, but increase production.


    Of course, there¡¯s costs to doing so.


    Spies stealing money aren¡¯t preparing insurrections or rebellions.


    Defenses at chokepoints have high upkeep, and whatever army you make is going to be weaker than the one you lost if they stayed alive. Decreasing happiness means lower population growth, or even losing population entirely. There are also tons of bad events that only pop when you have high upkeep costs, low military strength, and negative happiness across your empire. Budding rebellions, brigands spawning, and demands from your citizenry to improve by building certain buildings or removing certain ones.


    But if you use those rebellions and brigands as EXP to level up your new armies and Champions, you¡¯ll get a decent army.


    And, if you have enough money stolen from your enemies, you can choose the option to just give your citizens money to fuck off while you fix the nation.


    So, yeah.


    There are catch up mechanics that can be implemented if you¡¯re on the back foot.


    But, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, they take time and effort to implement.


    Any decent opponent would put you down before you could spend either and see the results.


    In short, while I did need to spend money keeping my lead, I also needed to keep putting everyone else down before they caught up.


    My first target?


    The Wardens.


    ¡­


    On the surface, the Wardens are your fanservice faction with all their troops, Champions, and leaders barely wearing anything. Every one of them was fit, had dark tans, amazing muscles, white hair, purple eyes, and great looks. In the early days, when the game first released, the forums were filled with ¡®what I expected and what I got¡¯ memes, with a lot of players gravitating towards them.


    Everyone expected a lewd race that catered to every demographic.


    Everyone got a death cult with yandere supermodels that can¡¯t be fixed.


    A lot of people considered that an upgrade, but they¡¯re not living on the same planet as the Wardens.


    The Wardens are cultists who worship paradise. Paradise for everyone and everything on the planet. To do that, they either get you to drink the cool aid by spreading their culture across your territory and population, or they march in with armies that they can easily regain until all your armies and city populations are wiped out.


    If you prop up your own religion to counter theirs, then they¡¯ll consider that grounds for war.


    If you stall their culture by having a decent culture of your own, then they¡¯ll consider that grounds for war.


    If you go to war against them, they¡¯ll never surrender until you¡¯re at their Citadel, where their greatest wonders are, and you¡¯re looking down the barrel of decades of a slow slog of a siege.


    I think that the average siege of a Warden capital takes fifteen turns.


    Turns are three months long from my estimates.


    That meant the siege will last nearly four years, with them reviving their troops incessantly and equipping them with basic Citadel armor and weapons. Meanwhile, for those four years, my troops will need logistical chains, replacement weapons, get rotated out and back in, and astronomical amounts of national treasure and will power. All the while, I¡¯ll also need to watch my flanks from any attacks by the Warden¡¯s allies, as well as making sure morale is high, otherwise the Wardens will break out, spread over their territory, and I¡¯ll have to redo the siege after they surround their capital with temple-fortresses.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    In other words, Wardens are best dealt with at the endgame with the freakishly op weapons at that stage, after their power has been curtailed the entire game. However, if you had to deal with them before then, it¡¯s generally agreed upon that causing a civil war was your best bet, while building up an army to swoop in and take everyone out at the same time. While you¡¯re doing that, you also need to keep improving your nation, researching, doing events, and search for items or Wonders.


    Juggling all that on overnight gaming session is great.


    Handling it all was barely tolerable with help.


    Thankfully, I could just focus on the nation building and research and events, while everyone did everything else.


    ¡­


    I didn¡¯t visit the research district often, but when I did, I was generally happy with what I found.


    Today was no exception.


    The first service rifle and infantry kit were finally ready, and Ayah was presenting it to me with pride.


    ¡°As requested, here is the final design of the infantry pack.¡± I left the designing to the scholars and the infantry that were going to use them. The final design was surprisingly like a larger, more durable school backpack. Main compartment with two straps, side pockets, and a second sub pouch. Zippers were thankfully figured out after a few pieces were made from the Citadel, so things could be secured. ¡°It is waterproof and durable. The straps on the bottom are for carrying a sleeping mat. It can carry three days of water, one hundred rounds of ammunition, and a field repair kit. There is also extra space can be allotted for anything else a soldier needs.¡±


    Ayah moved on to squares of fabric next to the bag.


    We commandeered an empty classroom for this little presentation, since there was a lot of the kit.


    ¡°Since coloring and dying each pack and uniform was deemed difficult, shawls and camouflage covers have been commissioned instead.¡± With the diversity of biomes on the continent, this was the best course of action. Every region was different in fauna, flora, and environment. Instead of making uniforms specific to each place, covers for gear and the uniform were better from a logistical standpoint. Otherwise, we¡¯d need eight sets of uniforms for every soldier. Cloaks you can just put on, or duffels you can stuff your pack into, were easier to mass-produce and stock up. ¡°We worked extensively with the Children of the Elm and the few Scholars that we have on staff. The aim of the new camouflage is to obscure the shape of the individual and make them blend into the environment.¡±


    ¡°Both look good.¡± I didn¡¯t have military training or anything, but the stuff was looking modern from my point of view, so it may be great. These guys at the university were here because they could innovate, research, and make things happen. What was I going to do? Waste more than a year and a half of investment and effort and say it¡¯s shit? ¡°How about the rifle?¡±


    Ayah¡¯s grimace told me a lot.


    ¡°The issue lies with longevity. The barrels wear out after five hundred rounds.¡± We were taking a massive leap from Minie balls rolled up with paper wads and gunpowder and primers. Instead of going the needle rifle route, we were going straight to brass cartridges with built-in primers. It was why I focused on getting a lot of armor on my pikes and getting locomotives, while also encouraging any market that wanted to work with brass. I wanted metallurgy to be good enough to start making rifled barrels and their ammunition. However, it looked like the ammunition was too strong and the barrels were too weak. Probably because the alchemists were great at replicating the contents of the bullets used by the semi-automatic cannons produced by the Citadel. Meanwhile, metallurgists were trying to desperately make steel that can withstand near-futuristic ammunition. ¡°But it is within tolerances and improvements are planned. However, if we want to stay within the current timetable, the first batch will have this defect.¡±


    ¡°Do it. We need those guns. If the ammunition does what it needs to do, we can deal with needing to replace weapons. Make a note for quartermasters to replace the weapons after five hundred shots.¡± The current weapons that we had were good for killing mobs and Tier 1 units. However, we saw that they weren¡¯t enough all the way back when we fought the corrupted Conquerors. Those guys were technically upper Tier 2 units, mid-game units that can be churned out incessantly by a decent economy, and they ate up tons of ammunition. Literal tons. The average Conqueror took over ten shots to put down. Given how many shots miss, we only took them down through sheer volume of fire. Even then it was a close thing. We won because they were heavily outnumbered, in a chokepoint, and held back. If they had another thousand Conquerors waiting on the wings, we¡¯d have lost. ¡°The ammunition does what we need it to, right?¡±


    ¡°Indeed, it is a miniature version of the rounds produced by the Citadel for the Conqueror¡¯s guns. We tested your recommendations and found it effective against large targets and longer ranges.¡± I asked for stopping power and they provided it. I wasn¡¯t a gun nut, but did like westerns a bit as a kid. One of the facts that stood out to me was that when driving out west people killed a lot of buffalo, and even as a kid I thought that¡¯d take a lot of firepower, since those things were massive.  The 50/90 Sharps cartridge was for putting those massive creatures down at long range, made without any fancy propellants, and robust enough for the Wild West, so I put it forward as a potential design. They worked off it, and now I was looking at the bullets.  Rounded tip, rimmed cartridge, and brass cylinder about the length of a finger. ¡°Production is completely without assistance from the Citadel.¡±


    ¡°Very good. Any luck on testing different shapes for the ammunition and different compositions?¡±


    ¡°The primary will be lead, but cone-shaped steel has proven very effective at penetrating armor. Sustained fire even gets through Citadel armor plating, but our attempts at explosive rounds and incendiary rounds are better suited for that.¡± That made sense. Lore-wise, Citadel alloy armors are very bullet-resistant, but the meat behind it typically isn¡¯t. That led to incendiary weapons or explosives to make the person wearing it burn alive or get hit with enough force to break something. ¡°But we believe that the normal round with the lead tip contains enough firepower to kill most targets. Tests on a few bandits from Warden stock showcased that they find it difficult to dodge, and a single hit is enough to blow off large chunks of their body.¡±


    ¡°Then, put the exotic ammunition for small runs and only for specialists, after they¡¯ve been deemed safe for use. We have what we need.¡± These were the guns we were going to use to conquer the Wardens. Given the fact that they can revive in the battlefield, but revival took more time and effort if the body was less whole, I wanted a rifle with a lot of stopping power in the hands of my massed troops. In fact, I was tempted to dissolve my pikes and turn them into rifles. But that never ended well in the game, since there¡¯s always something that rifles can¡¯t put down fast enough, so I abstained. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡±


    I turned around and faced the rest of the square classroom.


    Like a science fair, the products of the projects I gave my scholars were arrayed simply with details and data on simple posters. The scholars were all just waiting at a get together, enjoying a free meal before they get bonuses and a small faction, until they return in a week. Every single one of them was a mind that I cherished and carefully kept track of, and I barely abstained from giving them all Iterant spouses, and just settled with giving them Iterants as personal assistants.


    Because, through them and the university, I now had a military roughly around the Civil War era.


    Roughly, because there was one thing that we invested that was beyond that.


    Ayah smiled as she walked over to present the two-wheeled, breach-loaded, and rifled artillery piece. Beside it was a larger version of the munition meant for the rifle, but with a different form of ammunition. Instead of a cannon ball or a shell, it had a hollow Citadel Alloy dart filled with lead, which was surrounded by a sabot jacket. Once fired, the gases built up and propelled the whole thing forward. The sabot provided the seal for the gasses to push the dart forward, and came apart after exiting the barrel¡­ letting loose a nigh-unbreakable, Citadel dart full of the densest material we could reliably get our hands on at the target.


    Ayah didn¡¯t say anything, and gestured at sloped armor over half a foot thick made of Citadel alloys¡­ pierced completely through.


    Yeah.


    We finally have something that can put down an Ascendant warmech and anything else of their caliber.


    That meant we had a chance at winning, no matter how slim, instead of just prolonging a loss.

 V9: Chapter 3

    V9: Chapter 3


    ¡­


    The Elves worked hard at making their new home both beautiful and defensible.


    I gave them one of the encampment spots left over from developing Talon Hills.


    Development of a region is costly, and in-game it¡¯s better to invest and build one city or fortress at a time. In the early game, the strategy is to place basic villages to make use of tiles close to encampment spots and make them contribute to your empire. The rule of thumb is that if an encampment slot is surrounded by at least three hex-tiles with more than one unit of any resource, it¡¯s worthwhile to place people on early in the game.


    The key is to make sure the people you send out at least contribute the same amount as they would if they were in the capital. Spots that don¡¯t have any special tiles are better left aside for future investment, when tile improvements can be built, or early-game constructions of fortresses for regional security bonuses.


    The Elves¡¯ got an empty encampment space that had some nearby forests, but just plains on every other tile. Good for a large agricultural city in the endgame, or an artillery fortress in the mid-game, but not worth settling in the early game. Since I had other spots to take care of and invest into, I just ignored the future town construction site along with a few others in Talon Hills that didn¡¯t meet my requirements.


    The Children of the Elm, moving to assemble around their goddess, basically had a blank canvas to cultivate.


    They went ham.


    The modest forests were now immense. Their trees going from regular ones to the equivalent of sequoia or redwoods. Naturally, not all the trees would fit in the forest with magic making them all gigantic¡­ so they moved them with magic. Or, rather, the Children of the Elm made them move and plant themselves all around their new town. The trees literally uprooted themselves from the ground, shook off soil, and dug themselves into new homes in the surrounding plains. Over the course of a month, a massive forest filled with absurdly tall trees formed a day¡¯s walk away from the capital easily visible from the top of any modest building.


    I¡¯d watched from the Citadel for a while at the sight of it.


    It was one thing to know that the Elves can do it, but a whole other thing to see them tell hundreds of trees to get up and walk to replant themselves.


    Once their new home was surrounded by giant trees, they started working in earnest.


    The border got surrounded by fortifications in a hurry. Defense in depth with an emphasis on ambushes and tunnel tactics. Since I wanted my people to have practice at it, since we were going up against more horrible masses of enemies later, I sent in my own strategists to help and test them out in mock combat. That led the to the ambushes and tunnelling being supplemented by bolt holes for recovering wounded, pits filled with explosives and shrapnel, and hidden emplacements for our new cannons¡­ everywhere.


    They can shape the insides of those massive trees and even travel between them by making root tunnels.


    Fighting the Elves in the late game with all their territory bonuses is partly why you need to take them out early. That¡¯s just common knowledge. However, seeing it all in person made it clear that putting them down early was a good choice.


    Any army going in there will come out as ground meat.


    If I gave them anti-air, they¡¯ll be able to defend it from me.


    Anyway, behind those defenses was a hidden city that could relocate all over the forest. Their buildings were all living trees that could relocate as they wished. With the ability to carry around their farms, as well as just generate water with magic, there was no need for them to stick around in one place. Everything they needed moved within their new forest, and once the smaller trees grew in, they planned on making the paths only visible to invited guests.


    Basically, the Children of the Elm made a fairytale nightmare forest, and then upgraded it with guns and cannons.


    Again.


    I¡¯m glad I kicked these guys out of the game before they ramped up.


    ¡­


    Once past all the horrific defenses, the Children of the Elm had a nice city.


    All their homes were embedded into the immense, mobile trees that they made. One tree was like a single, self-sufficient street. People lived higher up, and shops and industry were kept closer to the ground. At the base of the trees, trash was sorted into compostable and non-compostable, with the former enriching the trees in question. The tent-like houses that hung from the trees, either in branches or stuck ascending up the trunk, were light and easily packed up or even joined together. At night, when they lit up lanterns, it was like the trees had loads of golden lights shining in their branches.


    There were caveats of course. The Elves kept heavier industry groundside. They didn¡¯t put forges in trees. Instead, they employed moving rock formations or hollowed out boulders, both of which had wood intertwining around or into the stone. They trundled along close to the ground when the rest of the city got up and walked. On those rock constructs, they also housed the heavy weapons, equipment, and ammunition that we gave them for their defenses.


    If they thought about rebellion, they had about a month¡¯s worth of ammunition and replacements.


    The assault through their defenses would still be hellish and probably eat an entire army, but it was better than them getting domestic production of heavy weapons and munitions up and running.


    But that¡¯s enough ruminating.


    It was time for me to check up on the Goddess of Nature, and see if there was any difference since I last saw her.


    She was in a pure-white, elm tree that was massively enhanced and improved by the Elves. Less like a tree and more of a castle, its trunk was shaped and guided to look like a combination of a fortress and shrine. About the size of a city block, the immense tree had living towers manned by guards, and its roots were obviously not fully embedded in the ground. Anyone assaulting it would find themselves having to fight massive tree roots stronger and more durable than steel, but more than capable of speeding along as fast as cars.


    It was pretty much a smaller version of their Purifier Titan, and that massive, skyscraper-sized thing was basically a regenerating giant robot with a nature aesthetic. No anti-air attack, though, so if they were planning on springing one on me, I had the answer to it already.


    Anyway, I was let in without a fuss into the Shrine Fortress, surrounded as it was by praying followers and faithful from the Children of the Elm.


    All of whom took up the ¡®righteous¡¯ garb of just vines and leaves, since they learned what their goddess clad herself in.


    No matter what I do, the fanservice of this game just keeps bubbling up to the surface.


    The innermost sanctum of the fortress shrine was past three layers of defenses, chambers where the defenders could fire arrows through walls, and where lights were all under their control. Magic was practically in every surface. Wards you¡¯d normally find on castle walls fore sieges were on tables, so that they can be upturned and used for cover. Our more experimental wards to protect against shadow creatures and intangibility were also implemented again and again, despite their cost. The Children of the Elm did not hesitate to go into my debt for their goddess¡­ not that I minded giving them the loan in the first place.


    I passed through multiple checkpoints with Ayah and Rita following with my Iterants when a thought occurred to me.


    If they wanted to ambush and kill me, they¡¯d probably have a great chance at doing it now.


    And, I would¡¯ve feared that possibility, if not for the mark on my hand given by their goddess.


    The Children of the Elm, one and all, recognized me as their goddess¡¯s chosen with the marking.


    Even the most extreme of them in our ranks looked at it and acknowledged it, then basically said that I¡¯m one of them despite my outward appearance.


    Yep.


    They¡¯d rather attest that I¡¯m actually one of them in soul and spirit, trapped in another mortal race¡¯s body, than consider the fact that their deity chose a regular dude than one of them.


    Those guys are gold medalists for mental gymnastics.


    The last set of doors were massive with an edifice made of gold. Gold was easy enough to produce in the Citadel, so when they requested a ton, I just allowed it. They used that gold to color in parts of the pure white door that they sculpted from the living tree. It depicted two hands, one for each door, holding the entire world.


    Jeez, these guys are evil-flavored even when they¡¯re trying to be good.


    With a raised fist towards the door, showing the back of my hand, I gained entry into the sacred meadow within the fortress shrine.


    Instantly, I could feel the difference.


    Ayah took note instantly.


    ¡°You were correct, my lord. This is an exceptional increase in power.¡± The reports from the Iterants stationed on site, regularly rotated out and examined for any mental manipulation, told me that the Goddess¡¯s physical form was growing and changing. They did a physical assessment after we shipped her out. Yep. She went from nearly six feet tall to almost seven since she was interred to rest here. ¡°I believe that the reports say she still grows to this day?¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t awaken her until she¡¯s fully strengthened. We have need of all her strength.¡± The Goddess of Nature was still asleep upon a plush white bed in the middle of a meadow, beneath a magical sun, and a cool pond. A tree grew beside her exclusively to give her shade. In the air, there was a tangible feeling like electricity, but somehow softer and more fluid. Kinda like when dozens of mages were prepping and pooling their power for a single spell. ¡°I think that¡¯ll be a few more months, still. Call the Head Priest.¡±


    ¡°I am here, Chosen of the Goddess.¡± I turned towards the source of the voice, and I was unprepared to look an elf grandpa wearing only a leaf skirt. It took all my diplomatic skill and prowess to not recoil at the sight. It was like a mental flashbang of wrinkled patches of skin over wiry muscle. ¡°I am afraid that I cannot follow as closely as you. Only maidens may cater to her eminence. How may I serve?¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    I don¡¯t recoil at the sight of you, and you call me a virgin!?


    The Children of the Elm are truly nefarious beings one and all.


    Never trust an elf.


    Also, I took note of the fact that he called me the Chosen of the Goddess and not by my proper title and its associated authority.


    This guy¡¯s gotta go.


    Either he¡¯s too stupid to remember to call me the king and lord of this land, or he¡¯s got his own ideas on how rulership works.


    Newsflash buddy: I¡¯m the guy with shapeshifting terminators.


    No clue how he got this far to be honest.


    ¡°Continue gathering the Children of the Elm and bring them here. Make sure that they all worship the Goddess of Nature properly.¡± I kept an idle eye on the guy. He had followers behind him, and he¡¯d entered right after I crossed the threshold without greeting or acknowledging me. The followers that he had behind him were suspiciously looking older than the typical Children of the Elm. I hadn¡¯t spared any of the Children of the Elm above certain age, but I let them in once their Goddess came into play. My gut was starting to tell me that was a mistake, and that this guy and his followers needed to be investigated and routed. ¡°She needs more faithful¡ª


    Quite suddenly, the head priest and his fellows started coughing.


    All at once.


    Then, they didn¡¯t stop coughing and began wheezing and crying out in pain.


    ¡°My lord, your hand.¡± Ayah spoke softly, while she and Rita took out weapons to protect me. The other Iterants in my entourage didn¡¯t hesitate to drop the act of looking like clerks and started converting bodily mass into weapons. I looked at my hand, and found the stylized tree on the back of it aglow. I barely felt any magic, but the soft glow it gave was like the glow being given off by the Goddess of Nature still sleeping behind me. But¡­ she didn¡¯t give any combat bonuses, right? ¡°I think that she has detected traitors.¡±


    The word traitor seemed to get through to the Head Priest.


    ¡°N-no! We are not traitors, your grace! W-we are true believers! The most true!¡± I was seeing where this was going. The Head Priest probably passed our assessments and got radicalized while in service. Khanrow was thorough with his vetting of the Children of the Elm we let in. The evidence lay in a few inconspicuous new gravesites all over my territories. Only 1/3rd of the Children of the Elm coming here got the Khanrow seal of approval. That seal of approval represented by the fact that they were still alive. ¡°You are the savior of this world! It is only right that you rule over it! Su-such is the true path¡ªgaghr!?¡±


    The Head Priest doubled over in pain and agony, while from his insides sprouted a full-grown tree that subsumed and consumed his body for nutrition. It was a small mercy that he seemed to die before the tree burst through his skin and his skull. One of his followers was silently screaming as a whole branch was coming out of his eye, and he only perished and slumped over when roots started growing from his waist into the soil.


    It was mercifully silent for a second when the trees finished growing and walked out of the meadow.


    Then, one of my guards pulled out her communication slate, read the report it was transmitting, and handed it over to Ayah.


    Ayah reported to me.


    ¡°Multiple Children of the Elm have experienced the same fate as this. The count is nearly two hundred.¡± Damn, these people were radicalizing fast. I guess having higher highs and lower lows when it comes to emotions can really mess with your head. ¡°No more cases so far. The people outside are terrified that their Goddess has abandoned them.¡±


    Hm.


    This sounds like an event.


    I probably had three options available to me, but I just had to figure them out.


    The first was to tell the truth, which will lead to a loss in faith and in incoming Children of the Elm, while also making it so that no more of these zealots pop up. Short-term, great. Long term, poor. I¡¯d rather cull a few zealots every couple of months, then lose out generated faith. It¡¯ll probably be like a ten percent decrease to faith generation permanently or worse. The devs are never nice enough to give just a flat decrease.


    So, telling the truth is out.


    The second option was probably to just lie and say that the High Priest and his ilk were chosen by the Goddess to become part of nature. Make the executions look like some form of ascension. However, that sounded a lot like the bad options for managing a religion. In fact, that¡¯s pretty much just emulating most cults. The dissidents going against the word of the prophet have been sent along into paradise. That sort of jazz. Going that route sounded like a surefire way to get mind-controlled or usurped by the Goddess.


    Those two options are probably the default, if I didn¡¯t have the assets I had at my disposal.


    Most specifically, my control over the narrative and my secret police.


    ¡°Nothing has happened here.¡± My words made everyone freeze in place. What I was saying, after all, was patently ridiculous. However, I¡¯ve made sure to constrain my use of my political and social influence. It¡¯s a rare commodity. Something that I use with great care. The last time I did anything crazy with it was probably with Executive Harper. Hopefully, the tanks were full. I didn¡¯t exactly have a number to look at, but I was going to try and tap into it anyway. ¡°What happened to the Head Priest and the others is a mystery. No one knows what this is. They may be been sent ahead to Paradise, dispatched for wronging the Goddess, or anything else.¡±


    I¡¯ll turn it into a rumor, then when it turns into a conspiracy, have Khanrow replace the ringleader who pops up. The populace will just know that something happened, make their own ideas with it, and be placated and forget. The key to this event is that it shouldn¡¯t happen again. That can be arranged through our current assets.


    ¡°This mustn¡¯t happen again. I don¡¯t wish for the Nature Goddess to have to act this way. Make sure that none over the age of twenty may serve her directly, and even then, they shall be watched by Iterants. The rest of the Children of the Elm may perform pilgrimages, but they will only enter the outermost ring of the shrine at most.¡± Ayah and Rita were quick to pick up on what I was outlining. Basically, we were going to say nothing, let people think things up, and set up safety precautions. We can probably obfuscate and file some reports and studies about the trees. Maybe, we could make bullshit up about them having souls still, and let people fill in the gaps, and take those people over later. ¡°And, let it be clear to those present: the deaths that we saw and heard of today were by my hand. The Head Priest¡¯s thoughts were plain to see, even before he professed them. That was when the Goddess of Nature acted in my defense. The blood spilled this day was by my command and my responsibility.¡±


    There.


    I¡¯ve taken responsibility over the situation and provided a method to control over it through assets that I have available. Like any optimal solution to an event, I was leveraging assets that I already had, expending a resource (influence), and following a clear path. I¡¯m responsible for what happened here, not the Goddess of Nature, so there should be a greatly lessened chance that we accidently get onto the route where the Goddess tries to usurp me.


    In short: I¡¯ve used money and assets to make sure I don¡¯t get bad-ended.


    Go me!


    I turned to Rita and Ayah, who were both looking my way with rapt attention, waiting for orders.


    Hm, maybe I didn¡¯t have enough influence to push the insanity I proposed through?


    Still, though, I¡¯m going to try anyway.


    ¡°Arrange a meeting with Khanrow, and contact the heads of our printing press, Ayah. Rita, I want you seen cordoning off the trees that have been created. If there are any questions, tell them we¡¯re investigating. Remember, the crux is to let the world know that the Goddess has done nothing wrong. It is the truth, if not the complete one.¡± I drilled my commands a bit more towards the two, and they nodded in sync. Good, I was getting through to them. Hopefully, this will all work out. They moved and the rest of the Iterants that composed my guards headed my way with a bit more caution than usual. Probably because I usually didn¡¯t spout of crazy stuff like that usually. ¡°To keep up the act, we¡¯ll be going straight back to the Citadel under emergency procedures. Understood?¡±


    As one, the entire group went to one knee and spoke as one.


    ¡°¡°¡°¡°¡°¡°Understood, your excellency, your will shall be done!¡±¡±¡±¡±¡±¡±


    Maybe, I laid it on a bit too thick?


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ¡­


    I laughed at the absurdity of the command that I saw at the end of the report sent my way.


    The Goddess of Nature acted on Jack¡¯s thoughts and slew zealots forming a powerblock within our new village. She acted in his defense, after the Head Priest¡¯s true nature was discerned by Jack, and as a result the Head Priest planning to elevate the Goddess to rulership and all associated to him were killed.


    Jack could have seized power, could have called himself a prophet, and instead chose another path.


    The path of a sovereign who simply had one of his people act in his defense.


    ¡°Nothing happened, indeed.¡± I shook my head, after finishing reading the report. Morgan¡¯s brow was furrowed as she considered the words. She looked my way. Her question obvious. ¡°You¡¯re about to ask why he didn¡¯t simply call himself her prophet, correct?¡±


    ¡°It would instill his position over the Children of the Elm.¡± Morgan confirmed her thoughts with nod. She was spending more time with me as of late. Learning and listening, so that she could be of more help during the coming efforts against the Wardens. She was a swift learner. However, as I taught her, she showed me some weaknesses of hers. Whether they were fabricated or not, I still sought to fix them.


    ¡°We already have the highest position over the Children of the Elm. We decide which of them gets to live, where they work, and how they think. Not only that, but we do so without being noticed. We rule over them while they believe themselves free¡­ and so they come from all over the continent.¡± Morgan¡¯s eyes shone at my explanation. The Children of the Elm would act against the King of Wisdom if he proclaimed himself the prophet of the Goddess. As of now, many ventured to her with the intent of becoming Chosen as well. The vast majority of those we culled from entry had not-so-secret designs to be the sole bearer of the Goddess of Nature¡¯s mark. ¡°With this move, we retain our current, unnoticed rule over them. They will come, we will take the best of them, dispatch the rest, and the Goddess will continue to grow in strength from the faith.¡±


    Morgan¡¯s appreciation for the plan became more pronounced as I explained.


    My gut told me that she already knew, but wanted it confirmed.


    She¡¯s quite the clever granddaughter to have.


    ¡°But we are taking action against the possibility of such zealots forming again, correct?¡±


    I almost snorted at her question.


    It was obvious that such a thing would not be accounted for.


    ¡°The protocol was already in place and ready. We shall be dividing them up and putting them against one another, while controlling the center. Look here. We are set to seed three separate theories on what happened to the High Priest. One is to assuage the vast majority. The other two is to grasp the two ends of extremes.¡± It was brilliant. Jack predicted properly that the people will think and gossip and create stories to align themselves with. Instead of desperately trying to stop thought, he was going to fill them with ideas to latch onto. The vast majority will be placated by the news from the papers, but those who search for more will find our operatives. Both parties that rise will be under our control. ¡°And, if we cannot control them, they shall be replaced with Iterants. Iterants who are already seeded in their population.¡±


    Morgan was silent for a while, before sighing aloud and shaking her head.


    ¡°How do you all do it? Everything¡¯s accounted for. No. What¡¯s more important is why you wouldn¡¯t share all this information so that everyone can stay calm!¡± Morgan stalked ahead and rounded on me with crossed arms. We were walked about the Scholar¡¯s old Citadel. There were rumors of the Scholar¡¯s remains finally making their move. A good chance as any to train Morgan in investigation and espionage. At her question, I just raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to think and not just talk. Her brow furrowed and she frowned¡­ before a sigh left her lips. ¡°It¡¯s compartmentalization, isn¡¯t it? It¡¯s more than just a technique to keep information from spreading.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, it also keeps people focused. Too much information, too much understanding, and you can become lost. No, you may even lose sight of what in front of you. I experienced it as a warlord.¡± Those days felt like an eternity ago. Days where I spent nights sleepless trying to do everything, give every order with care, and barely relied on others. I made many mistakes and erred so much, because I simply had to do everything. ¡°Even Jack limits what he sees. He looks at the numbers produced by our actions, bids them to change, and sets guidelines. From then on, it falls upon those who he gave orders to, just as we have officers we give missions to in a campaign. Sometimes, if something is of immense import, he goes there himself to handle matters¡­ and reminds us why he holds his title.¡±


    Morgan was silent at my words. We both walked through snow for a while, stretching our bodies, after a long day reading reports and updates from the agents we had in this land. Riegert¡¯s creation was formulaic, but he built up the Scholar¡¯s former capital into something that can be shaped into whatever we needed. Sarala could have been sent here to make it a land to produce wealth, but it had dissidents and bordered the Guardians of the Moon. Jack was correct in leaving this place to Riegert for development.


    Once war began, it will hold against the tide of Undead that was to come.


    The silence stayed for a while, before it was once again broken by silence.


    ¡°I want more. At the very least, as much work as you and Riegert do, grandfather.¡± Her words gave me pause. Not because she lacked talent, but because of what I didn¡¯t want her to do. ¡°Send me out there. Let me see the enemies we will face. Allow me to be more than just a weapon, but a true asset to our nation.¡±


    However, if I looked past the fact that she was my granddaughter, I could find no reason to refuse.


    She had the power, the talent, the skill, and the intellect to do as Riegert and I did.


    She can truly help us and stand next the two of us as peers.


    As I gave a nod, and as she smiled in triumph, a thought occurred to me.


    Maybe, she planned for this all along.


    If so, she truly deserved the position.

 V9: Chapter 4

    V9: Chapter 4


    ¡­


    Supersoldiers.


    Everyone wants them.


    Everyone needs them.


    Now, supersoldiers aren¡¯t really a thing in most high fantasy settings. Their writers tend to shy away from the nitty gritty details to preserve some mystique. In low fantasy settings, your supersoldiers have just been trained from birth or are fuck-off huge for some reason, and you¡¯re good to go. High fantasy, there¡¯s a need to explain how you¡¯re taking a regular, average human being and enabling them to fight against armies of giant monsters.


    Thankfully, my current reality is actually a sci-fi setting disguised as a high fantasy setting.


    Meaning that the lore and creation process to uplifiting stock humans from Tier 0 to Tier 3 is something that I knew from the start thanks to wiki-dives and the in-game encyclopedia.


    I¡¯ll leave the long, comprehensive explanation to lore videos.


    The short of it is that the Ancients have already done most of the work with most of the improvements and changes that people need are just lying dormant in their bodies. Back when they were in power, if someone needed all those improvements turned on for their job or something valid, they go to a clinic, get some injections, and get put into a chamber that provides them with energy for the transformation. Obviously, just like a certain superhero with a star-emblemed shield. When everything¡¯s over and done with, they go to a clinic, get the genes turned off, and the extra mass and improvements fade over time.


    Part of the reason why the Ancients managed to push through and gut their enemies after the initial sucker punches was thanks to this fact.


    It¡¯s hard to conquer a planet full of people that can bench press sedans and run at fifty miles per hour for hours on end.


    Anyway, the increased health, defense, attack, and other stats of normal mortal people over time is explained by uncovering these methods. The Ancients took loads of certain grains and plants and made it so that fermenting them or putting them through simple distillation techniques could create the serums and nutrient-dense pastes necessary to elevate their descendants, after reinforcing and locking in the genetic improvements. As you research upgrades to your units, and they start moving faster, hitting harder, and surviving longer, it¡¯s all reasoned out to be everyone slowly getting improved by rollouts of serums and injections that activate dormant genetic codes.


    In the tech trees, for example, the upgrade is just called Infantry Level 1, a regular old upgrade before you upgrade to Tier 2. Just something nice to pick up on the way to the good stuff. It just gives your Infantry gets 10% in all stats, and makes them a bit more competitive until you get the next tier of units out.


    In reality?


    That little upgrade is a massive logistical and scientific challenge, since everything needs to be developed and then everything developed needs to be made, before being rolled out to all my armies across the continent. Thankfully, after realizing that there was no way it¡¯d be simple to roll an upgrade like that out, I had the foresight to start researching and developing for it the moment my university came online.


    Now, it was time to see the fruits of my labor.


    ¡­


    The Alchemist Wing of the University was a combination of a chemical factory and a steampunk-lite workshop. Most of the higher end devices for measurements, manufacturing, and chemistry had been developed by the Scholars. After their city was used to crash into the Academy, everyone picked it clean, and everyone worked to replicate the devices that they once produced and sold at a premium. Of course, the Citadel could produce high-end scientific equipment, but they had learning curves and I couldn¡¯t give my scholars the time needed to study the machines and learn their intricacies. So, we used rudimentary machines made by the Citadel, and the contemporary machines that the alchemists were familiar in combination.


    The results spoke for themselves in the form of a dry, red powder contained in large, robust flasks held in wooden boxes filled with straw.


    Admittedly, though, we were mostly getting this far because we were working off the work of the backs of giants.


    ¡°Ten boxes. Each box will be able to start the improvement process for a thousand soldiers. Distilled water provided by mages, then the measured serum will be consumed.¡± The first idea was to make single-use injectors, like adrenaline pens back home. The Ancients made that unnecessary by making sure that the serum could enter the stomach without issue. Not only that, but the serum itself could be dried out and turned into a powder, after which they can be stored and shipped around with immense ease. ¡°The first shipments are already out and heading for the farthest of our troops, along with the increased rations for the next few weeks.¡±


    In fact, it was so easy that we had another possible avenue for them.


    Giving dissidents a powerful edge, until everyone else figures it out.


    ¡°How goes the theoretical studies regarding providing these to rebels?¡± Supersoldiers are great on the battlefield, but they were even better for espionage and clandestine actions. The Ancients made it so that most of the improvements were underneath the skin, though some improvements to the physique were natural with increased musculature and overall improved health. A talented, skilled spy is dangerous enough, but when they can manhandle policing forces with their bare hands or exfiltrate on foot at a stupidly fast pace, they become exponentially more terrifying. There¡¯s a reason why Espionage Champions are considered a must-have, even if they¡¯re just going to protect on your regions. If you don¡¯t have one, while the enemy does, you¡¯re going to lose tech, find your economy suffering, or even lose your leader. ¡°Lysander and his sect most especially?¡±


    ¡°Volunteers that imbibed the serum from the Wardens geneline, from the Smiling Tyrants, showcased different physical improvements.¡± I thought that Infantry Level 1 provided different bonuses depending on the faction researching it, but it looked like I was wrong. Instead, it looked like the same serum, activated different improvements to each faction. The Guardians were different since most of the Infantry was just masses of Undead. They just put more magic on them or something and made them more resilient and hit harder. ¡°The Warden showcased no improvements to healing, and in fact became lighter and more fragile, but became far faster and vastly increased in strength.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°The Ancients are making sure that everyone gains the most from the serum, then.¡± The Descendants of the Ancients got the generic 10% improvement to all stats. The Conquerors got 30% Health and Attack, so rushing Infantry Level 1 pretty much turned their baseline troops into fucking monsters that lets them blitz in the early game. The Wardens, if I remembered correctly, got 25% attack and 25% more speed, but lost 20% of their health, gearing them towards their glass cannon, swarm role more. That pretty much explained the increased fragility and lightness of the Warden who volunteered. Wait¡­ lighter and more fragile? Are you telling me all the Wardens will be even more slender and twinkish after getting the serum? Man, the Ancients really are all perverts. Gone too soon. ¡°It will still be quite the advantage for our planned successors to the current Warden regime. Continue to study the feasibility and bring in Khanrow to evaluate the plan.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty.¡± Ayah gave a prim bow at my words, while I returned my gaze towards the serum. In the thick travel flasks that they were housed in, you¡¯d be forgiven for thinking that they were just mundane supplies. We stored dried vitamin mixes and antibiotics from the Citadel in similar containment vessels to keep our troops healthy out there in the field. These flasks, though, are going to turn people most soldiers into monsters. Thankfully, the off-switch was just as easy to manufacture. ¡°Anti-serum production has also reached the desired rate. Experiments towards weaponizing it for future action has borne fruit. The prisoners given the serum, provided nutrients for the requisite period, and then exposed to high concentrations of the gas experienced nausea, fatigue, and had to fight to stay awake. Over the course of ten days after exposure, the prisoner lost all improvements provided by the Ancient¡¯s serum.¡±


    The only thing more important than making supersoldiers is being able to neutralize them.


    ¡°Good for hitting our foes on their retreat, or pacifying possible criminals with the serum, then. Not so much for combat, unless those symptoms are especially severe. Maybe, if you couple it with some of our more lethal methods.¡± After the success we had with chemical and biological weapons against the monster hoards summoned by the Death Lord, I shelved and stockpiled the excess agents that we developed for war. Everyone saw them already, so it was only natural that they¡¯ll come up with counters to them. I¡¯m sure that they¡¯ll notice how my troops didn¡¯t suffer from the diseases I inflicted on the enemy and find the vitamins and antibiotics that the Level 4 Citadels can produce. In the next conflict, I¡¯ll use the stockpiles up, but make no more thereafter. We were working on far more terrifying weapons now. ¡°How goes the development on the Corrosive Fog?¡±


    Corrosive Fog was an ability that artillery could unlock for the Descendants. The design intention was to reduce the armor of enemies and let rifles and small arms do more work. Good targeting and placement of the rounds would get the effect on the enemy, while sparing your troops. In the end-game, it¡¯s pretty much needed, because your armies would run out of ammo before busting through all the armor most late and endgame units have. The skill launched a horizontal barrage across the enemy force, letting you catch multiple battalions if they didn¡¯t spread out properly, and it effectively increased damage by thirty percent.


    In-game, it didn¡¯t do much damage to people directly, just working as an armor reduction debuff, but I had a feeling it was going to be far, far more horrific. It¡¯s a lingering corrosive acid designs to stick and ablate armor¡­ what will it do if it¡¯s breathed in, gets into the eyes, or swallowed by accident? Not only that, but it can be upgraded to effectively halve enemy armor by endgame and do decent damage over time. At that point, I¡¯m sure people will melt wading through acid that strong.


    I had a feeling that it¡¯s going to be a horrific weapon to unleash, but I couldn¡¯t ignore it. It¡¯s just too powerful, and I know that the coming hordes of enemies were going to be armored up to the gills, except for the Stymphalians. Due to that fact, I was planning on making dedicated artillery units just armed with those shells to keep layering the Corrosive Fog on the enemy for a perpetual damage increase. If it was as deadly as I thought it was, I was sure that those units will need to be staffed with Iterants who can get their memories of the event wiped.


    Ayah paused at my question before moving towards a desk in the corner of the room, where a box was present. Gingerly, she opened the box and extracted a piece of steel chest armor, probably the most common armor you¡¯d be able to find on the field on most soldiers. It was pockmarked in multiple places, the straps holding it together were gone, and its lower half was connected to the top by just a few not melted threads of metal.


    It looked like Corrosive Fog was going to even be deadlier than I thought.


    I couldn¡¯t help but give a hum, as simulated a possible battle against the Forgers on the surface of a table.


    ¡°Best terrain will be with us on the hilltops, then we¡¯ll force them to come to us with aerial bombardment. If we have enough firepower, we can forget the pikes and just have lines of battlefield fortifications, guns, and artillery. Some cavalry just in case, of course.¡± Ayah went still by my side, probably using its hyper-computation abilities to simulate it. I didn¡¯t need a brain like the Ancient Administrators. Closing my eyes was enough to remember hundreds and hundreds of battles against the Forgers with just the Descendants alone. ¡°If they have cover, we burn it with incendiary. When they¡¯re running up to us, we blind them, make them deaf, mire them in mud¡­ and then it¡¯s the Anti-Serum after the Corrosive Fog. That¡¯ll destroy any masks they make, and disrupt any mages that can blow it away. After that, we lay on the firepower, while keeping cavalry in reserve to flank them.¡±


    Ayah took a bit of time, before nodding.


    I bet that she simulated every detail with great care and attention, and probably saw some issues.


    We¡¯ll solve that when making that actual battle doctrine for the field officers, though.


    "I hope that your plans can be executed with such masterful coordination, your majesty." Ayah laid it on thick with the praise. I just gave a small nod. No need to bask in it. Okay, I''m basking in it a little. I''m a young man so the horniness is starting to hit, so when a short-haired, tanned lady gives me a smile that reaches her eyes, I get distracted. Sue me, I''m a dude. "Rest assured, I will give my all when we recreate our warfare doctrines."


    That¡¯s what I like to hear.


    ¡°We¡¯ll run the usual wargames and simulations, but that¡¯ll be how we add these new assets.¡± I turned away from her and looked back to the room filled with tables filled with other samples and single-page reports regarding the other projects. They ranged from our attempts at making antibiotic tablets, vitamins, incendiary compounds, and more. Unlike in the game, it wasn¡¯t as simple as clicking one, single block on the tech tree to research. Everything was built upon each other, working off one another, and technology needed to increase to reach the higher Tiers of units, buildings, improvements, and policies. The University was proving itself as a great early investment, since all its scholars and departments could be combined to work towards the bigger goals. ¡°C¡¯mon, Ayah. There¡¯s more for you to show me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty. I¡¯m honored to be of service.¡± The bow was a bit unnecessary, but I didn¡¯t call Ayah out on her flattery. ¡°Please, I believe that the next appropriate showcase will be the enhancements to our incendiary weapons. With your suggestions, they have managed to compose a gelling agent which allows for solid streams of flames that stick to targets.¡±


    Oh boy, napalm bomblets and flamethrowers are now available.


    Is that worse or better than either the de-evolution gas or the metal-melting acid fog?

 V9: Chapter 5

    There¡¯s a rhythm to the game.


    You fight for a bit, then you build for a bit, and then you fight again.


    In the industry, it¡¯s called the gameplay loop, and the trick is to make a gameplay loop that sucks the player in. The easiest example would FPS games. You start the game, get into a lobby, pick your gear, and start a match. If the balance is good enough, if the guns feel good to shoot, and the speed of everything is great, then your players will invest time, effort, and develop skills in the game. Game devs support this by buffing things that aren¡¯t good, while nerfing things that are a bit too good, until they find a sweet spot.


    If the game is good enough, if it''s fun to play and every match is different because of the styles and skills of the players, then you¡¯re looking at massive profits. You can sell cosmetic skins to your players through battle passes, reward them free stuff through events, or get their money in all sorts of ways, even after they¡¯ve paid full price for the game. If the game is good enough, rather than being seen as stingy with the free stuff cosmetics, people will buy stuff just to support the game.


    Gacha games?


    That¡¯s a whole different beast, and I refuse to talk about it.


    Anyway, for 4X games, where you take turns to explore, expand, exploit, and exterminate, the gameplay loop is built around keeping the player productive and busy. There¡¯s always something for them to do, so time is going to melt away while they play. It¡¯s not just about the armies fighting. It¡¯s about looking at your city¡¯s stats, making the district needed to supplement its weakness or improve its specialty. Then, while that¡¯s going on, you explore the map, and find places to settle new towns in with tiles that provide bonuses, strategic resources, or things that you can trade. Of course, when you find that place, someone else is already there or another party wants it for themselves. After that, you make an army, fight them, settle, build, and then start looking for another place to take.


    Meanwhile, everything is still improving while you¡¯re fighting. The people in your cities are growing in number, the buildings you set up to build are being made, and research is being done. The new village that you make has a head start over villages you made before. Your whole empire benefits from the resources you pull in, or from just having another spot that can contribute more to the nation¡¯s goals. Some factions will have different resources that they need to find and gain, or whole mechanical systems that make them different from their enemies, as well as wholly different technology sets that give different buffs and buildings and units.


    If you couple all of that with good AI that knows to press the advantage, play their faction, and withdraw and negotiate when they¡¯re on the backfoot? You¡¯ve basically got a game that can be played endlessly, so now you can sell all the cosmetic packs you want, event packs, leaders with special units and tech trees for factions, get mod support, and finally get expansions.


    So, where am I going with this, since I¡¯m now living that game?


    Basically, I¡¯ve played the game long enough to get a gut feeling when things are too quiet, and to know when something¡¯s up.


    You get maybe five turns max before something weird and different pops up that you need to address with physical force.


    With my plans for the Wardens in play, while the Guardians, Merchants, and Forgers were still building up, I thought that it¡¯d be the Wardens causing an issue.


    Turns out that I was wrong about that.


    The Scholars, after being hunted for years, finally resurfaced.


    And, they resurfaced with style.


    ¡­


    I was at the Scholar¡¯s former Citadel.


    Much of the city that once surrounded it was gone. The previous inhabitants had made it more for withstanding sieges and grinding armies than for housing and industry. With the region now dedicated to mining and heavy industry, I made sure that the Scholar¡¯s former Citadel was good enough to enjoy living in. Mining towns and heavy industry districts both lowered the overall regional happiness level, so I made sure to build hospitals, stadiums, and resorts that the workers of the region could easily access. The Citadel here was geared towards producing a lot of amenities for the people, as well as provide medical supplies and critical care when the hospitals can¡¯t get things done. And, finally, I was encouraging people here to have lots of kids.


    Black lung? Step into this vat and in a few hours your lungs are fine. We¡¯ve also gotten rid of some aches and pains we¡¯ve found. Free of charge.


    Lost a limb? Let¡¯s get your measurements via this scanner, and a tissue sample, and you can come back in a few days for a graft.


    Feeling stressed and tired? My friend, you should be using your five-day voucher for a ski or hot springs resort, you get one every twenty-five days of working. The three-day rest period is rarely enough with your long shifts!


    Home feeling a bit cold? Try this new heater from the Citadel. It¡¯ll last forever and keep your whole house warm. How much? We have plenty, and the people outside love them, so I¡¯ll give it to you for half off!


    Your fourth child being a bit harder to carry? Ma¡¯am, please follow me. Don¡¯t worry about anything. We¡¯ll take care of you at the hospital, or even the Citadel!


    Basically, over here, I was doing my best to keep people happy, healthy, and without complaints as they toil in my largest factories and pull ore from the mountainous regions. Not just to keep everyone happy, but to make sure that they don¡¯t leave, and that their children would stay and take up their parent¡¯s occupation. Not only that, but if people didn¡¯t exactly test well in their exams, they were also sent over here for manual labor positions. Some people would call it some sort of worker utopia, but I honestly saw it more as a trap. People here weren¡¯t given to reason to leave, to advance upward in the social hierarchy, and so that they, and whoever else is unfit for anything besides manual labor will be sent here and stay here.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Some kids will have a chance, of course, and they¡¯ll be tested while they¡¯re raised and taught in school. They¡¯ll get to go to a university, become scholars, and learn. The vast majority, though, will basically just be sticking around here and further increasing industrial output. They¡¯ll never want for food, housing, or healthcare. They can pop out kids nonstop and not have to care. All they need to do is mine or work in the factory, then go home to rest, or check in a vacation.


    The Scholars saw this and tried to infiltrate and start the process of retaking their lands by getting into public office and positions of power.


    The problem with their plan?


    The whole police force and upper management of the Scholar¡¯s former region were Iterants.  I didn¡¯t want to have secret police made up of shapeshifting terminators, but after Khanrow and Riegert recommended it, since they couldn¡¯t say for sure that the Scholars were gone, I had to make them. Hopefully, once the Scholars were dealt with, I could disband them or just add them to the budding intelligence agencies I¡¯ve got going.


    The results are good, but I know that there are bad events involving establishing clandestine organizations further in the game that cost way too much to resolve.


    But back to our findings.


    The Scholars were making their move after years of laying low after the loss of their Citadel.


    ¡°Your majesty.¡±


    ¡°Lady Geneve, a pleasure to meet you.¡± Ayah was hanging back behind me, busy working with messengers to reschedule and change up my itinerary for the coming week, so I was interacting directly with the Iterant in charge of our security operations instead of her. Usually, Ayah was my go-between and the representative of the Iterants. During emergencies like this, she had a lot to handle, so I went alone without complaint. ¡°I¡¯ve heard good things from Khanrow and Morgan. I take it they¡¯re still deployed?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Lady Morgan and Lord Khanrow are both hard at work collecting data in the field. Magical information that we cannot collect ourselves.¡± If Iterants had any weakness, it was that they couldn¡¯t use or cast magic. All their magic was devoted towards building more Iterants within their chassis. Theoretically, if that system was stopped and they were taught, they would be able to use magic. We needed more people, and mages were common amongst regular folk, so I abstained from pursuing that possibility. ¡°They sent a message ahead of themselves, however.¡±


    Geneve gave me a letter, bowing and holding out both hands as it did, and I did my best to smile and not make a big deal of how odd it felt.


    Could¡¯ve just given it to me normally.


    I looked over it, and it was as I expected.


    This was the Subterfuge and Shapeshifter event, which could proc for any faction far enough into the tech tree if they lose. Since the Scholars had access to lots of technology, I supposed that it was to be expected that they¡¯d take over the role.


    ¡°It seems that the Scholars intend to infiltrate our ranks. Using magic and technology, they¡¯ll exchange bodies of their people with other peoples. The only difference that we will see is in habits and actions.¡± Brain transfers were a thing back on Earth. Monkeys had their brains transferred to other monkey bodies, and everything got reconnected besides the brain stem. The monkeys died in the end, and were unable to move since we couldn¡¯t reconnect brain stems. If I remembered correctly, the brain was also considered a foreign object by the immune system, so it had to be flooded with immune-suppressants, too. Here, I suppose that magic ¡®solved¡¯ those two problems. Hell, Citadel healing machines can fix paralysis from broken spines, so I suppose we could do the same. ¡°I trust that you¡¯ve been meticulous in keeping track of all the citizenry under the Citadel?¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty. We¡¯ve begun cross-examinations on over two dozen people as of this moment. All individuals who are displaying differences in their daily habits.¡±


    ¡°Make sure to focus on those who have been to resorts, as well, and double the agents we have at those places. They are isolated areas, but if one is compromised, we will be sending out workers and receiving infiltrators.¡± The Subterfuge and Shapeshifters event is one of the polarizing events. You either loved it or hated it. I was on the former category when I played it. I liked how it took years to resolve, how you needed to read, and how you needed to interact with the espionage layer and do actions marked by the event. Those who hated it¡­ hated it for the same reasons. They liked events that you just clicked the good option on, that they didn¡¯t have to read, and didn¡¯t influence to overworld much. It¡¯s blue, that means it¡¯s good. Hurr durr. Honestly, with all that I had on my plate now, I kinda got them now. Oh, it¡¯s end-solution also a big movie classic reference that was easy to remember. ¡°Then, for anyone even considered for upper management or for a scholarly position, we need to establish fundamentals.¡±


    ¡°Their likes, dislikes, and a few key phrases and words that they need to remember. Things that won¡¯t transfer between bodies.¡± It was called the VK test online. Lots of other posters called people uncultured if they didn¡¯t know what VK stood for. Other people just called them boomers, old fucks, or something along those lines. I never bothered to ask, or read too many posts about it. Time spent on the forums is better spent in game, or in the wiki. But the general ¡®solution¡¯ was something that I knew. ¡°For most people, we¡¯ll just register if they¡¯re out of the city or have disappeared for more than an hour. Should be simple enough with the surveillance that we have. You¡¯ll more resources, naturally.¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, your majesty. I won¡¯t fail you! I¡¯ll do my utmost to see this project through!¡±


    ¡°If you have any questions, schedule a meeting with me while I¡¯m here.¡± I gave Geneve a nod, and we finished walking through the Citadel. We entered the cold room, and one a simple steel table, there lay an average looking Descendant on the younger side. He wasn¡¯t tall or built, but had enough muscle on him to look like an earnest worker. He had a bear belly and looked a bit scruffy, but besides that was on the healthy side. Well, if he was alive. ¡°So, this one was found because he suddenly showed interest in becoming a facility manager?¡±


    ¡°Yes, as well as showcasing literacy, after being gone for several days and being found by an investigative team. He stated that he was attacked by brigands and was released when they found nothing of note on him.¡± Geneve went over to the end of the table with the man¡¯s head. ¡°Lady Morgan took note of our report and investigated him personally. There was a brief altercation, and she called for our help. She found this.¡±


    The top of the man¡¯s skull came off and inside was a brain.


    A brain with a small hunk of metal and glittering jewel in it.


    ¡°Some sort of device that prevents the body from rejecting the brain?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, that¡¯s exactly Lady Morgan believed it was, your majesty! She said it was only a theory, so we did not place it in our reports. If there is any error¡ª"


    ¡°There is no error. It remains a theory, until we break it down and study it. I¡¯m also assuming from what I know.¡± I prevented Geneve from apologizing any more, and moved to examine it a bit closer. It was on the smaller side, but¡­ shouldn¡¯t a metal detector be able to find this? Could we have a possible solution to this that everyone else just wouldn¡¯t consider, because they didn¡¯t know about it? ¡°I believe that there¡¯s an Ancient tool that can detect such things and that the Citadel might be able to make it. Come along.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty. By your will!¡±


    Was it just me, or was Geneve getting more and more enthusiastic as time went on?


    I really should interact with regular Iterants more.

 V9: Chapter 6

    V9: Chapter 6


    ¡­


    Bad news.


    The Citadel couldn¡¯t produce the high-end, handheld scanners that¡¯s ubiquitous in sci-fi, yet.


    Good news, though: it could produce handheld metal detectors.


    I pressed the button and the baton-like instrument let out a stable, fizzy hum. I drifted it over, whilst activated, onto a sword. The fizzy hum became a high-pitched whine. Then, moving it away, resulted in the prior sound returning. Turning the detector onto the brain of the diseased infiltrator, the high-pitched whine returned. Less loud, denoting that there wasn¡¯t a whole sword¡¯s worth of metal near it, but there was still metal.


    Sure, sci-fi interrogations are cool, but why not just put a metal detector near someone¡¯s head?


    Well, at least until the late game, when everyone just uses biological shapeshifters.


    That¡¯s when detecting enemy infiltrators needs a more sci-fi touch and some magic. The pseudo-Panopticon I¡¯ve got in every Citadel should help with that, but it¡¯ll probably be best to get the Arcane Neutralizer wonder. Endgame, exceedingly expensive, and it has the same flags as building a game-ender, so everyone will gang up on you for building it. Fifty percent resistance to the highest level of magic for your troops, and far higher resistances for anything below, is worth it though.


    And, of course, shapeshifters will find their transformations reverting in anti-magic fields.


    That thing¡¯s at least sixty turns away even when rushed, though, and in sixty turns I doubt I¡¯ll be able to spare the time and money.


    Maybe, I can scale it down, somehow?


    I¡¯ll shelve it for later.


    The metal detector will do for now.


    ¡°That should be a good solution for the time being. We¡¯ll need other avenues. Perhaps, rendering the individual unconscious and placing them in a medical chamber in the Citadel.¡± I gave a nod and handed the baton away. Geneve received it bowed and with both hands. We¡¯ve got literal tons of those things being printed out and shipped everywhere for Iterants to use. No need to be so cautious with them. They¡¯re built tough. ¡°Make sure that they reach your fellows, Geneve. I trust your people to protect our nation.¡±


    ¡°Your will shall be done, your majesty.¡± Geneve¡¯s been laying it on thick for a while, but I just went along with it. No point in worrying about that sort of stuff. We moved out of the holding place for the infiltrator¡¯s corpse, back into the Citadel proper, and in the halls several Iterants waited in rows with Ayah standing aside them waiting for me. Geneve quickly gave a bow and left my presence. ¡°Farewell, your majesty.¡±


    Ayah eyed the Iterant with suspicion as it joined its fellows. You should really treat them more nicely. We¡¯ve got them watched, but not even one has done anything wrong, right?


    ¡°Everything¡¯s settled back at the capital?¡±


    ¡°Yes, your majesty. All appointments and events cleared for the week.¡± Ayah nodded primly, and I gestured for her to lead me. The other Iterants followed. ¡°As you requested, I¡¯ve gathered Iterants who have experience in espionage and tracking, as well as set up an office with supporting elements to process reports.¡±


    ¡°Very good. The clerk¡¯s first order of business is to make sure everyone is paid for their duties, and to set up schedules properly. I want full time coverage, but no one overworking. Get more people, if we can¡¯t meet that requirement with what we have.¡± Iterants had a propensity towards working nonstop, if I didn¡¯t say anything, so proper staffing was important. If they wanted to spend their free time working other jobs with other faces, sure, but that¡¯ll need to be recorded as well. I didn¡¯t want anyone losing their mind for any reason, and to stay in their good graces. ¡°What¡¯s the latest from our people in the field?¡±


    ¡°Khanrow and Morgan should be back within a few hours. Their last report validated our findings. There were multiple bodies held in some sort of magical field that kept people very still.¡± A stasis field. Probably a prototype. In the future, stasis fields made with magic will become a ubiquitous technology for preservation of perishables, which happened to include lives. Keeps people from dying from mortal wounds before we can get them into a Citadel medical station, while also keeping fruits like bananas from spoiling. ¡°All the bodies had their brains removed. There was a storage area for more bodies than we found, as well.¡±


    I gave a hum at that.


    ¡°That suggests a more refined technology than I expected. Something that they¡¯ve been able to produce for a long period of time and have expertise in¡­ perhaps this technology is also utilized by the Scholars to control their mechanical appendages?¡± I pretended to muse and theorize. I knew that it was the truth. The official wiki said so, and anyone posting wrong things on the official wiki quickly find themselves deleted from the community involved in the project. People take their game world filled with nubile dark elves that think jewelry is clothing very seriously. ¡°Have our scientists study the technology. Perhaps, we can find uses of it ourselves.¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, of course. Such a technology would be immensely beneficial to our cause!¡± Ayah nodded with wide eyes. Sometimes, it¡¯s gratifying to drop some lore off like that, but I had to be careful. Even with all the rare books I now had, which I said were the sources of my knowledge, the more I ¡®quoted¡¯ from them the more likely it was someone would find a copy and find that what I¡¯m saying isn¡¯t written down at all. It¡¯s best that I just bullshit connections together and then put down facts from the wiki. ¡°Lady Morgan was also wondering how they managed to fund and research new technology without any support. If they used what they already knew, then that explains the matter.¡±


    I shook my head.


    Ayah, despite being so pessimistic, was sometimes oblivious.


    ¡°No, they¡¯re receiving funding. Any one of our current foes will support them, even if only slightly.¡± Ayah blinked before looking at me for more clarification. I explained. ¡°If you have the means to defeat a foe, or at least hamper them, then it must be done. We must attack the Scholars and eliminate them as a threat while keeping in mind that they have outside help.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Things like this don¡¯t happen without outside help. Revolutions rarely succeed as homegrown efforts. They need outside help from interested powers. America got help from the French during the Revolutionary war. America facilitated a lot of changes in power in South America. In game, events like these with fallen factions always have backers. Event window pops up, fallen faction asks for resources or unit donations, and if you¡¯re lucky they get a town or two and irritate your opponent. Or, they manage to lower the defenses of the Citadel enough for you to swoop in and take it for yourself.


    Thinking about it¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s either the Wardens or the Forgers in this case. They¡¯re the only powers that can hold this Citadel if we lose it. Celia would fund them, but enough to just be a thorn. It¡¯d be against her code of honor. The Merchants would give money as well, but not enough for the Scholar¡¯s to come back and be a threat to them.¡± We were likely facing down the excess wealth of everyone else on the continent. They¡¯d be stupid not to do it. I mean, they¡¯re dumb in that they¡¯re not just letting me get power so we can fight off four world-ending threats, but that¡¯s a cultural issue. I¡¯m not a bigot. I just need to use violence to get what I want. ¡°What matters is that we approach this issue with the correct mindset. We are not only facing the Scholars, but everyone else on the continent, which is why this organization is necessary and why I am giving it as much as I can.¡±


    ¡°¡­I see now. I apologize for doubting you, your majesty.¡± Ayah bowed its head. Probably to make up for not seeing the big picture right away. Not that it''s at fault. It¡¯s an Ancient Administrator. The whole point of it is to handle the numbers and logistics of the continent. It¡¯s not exactly geared for the current massive amount of bullshit that we were facing from everyone else. ¡°Rest assured, that we will empower this organization with defeating enemies from within and without. We will not fail you.¡±


    ¡°Very good. Now, let¡¯s get to work.¡±


    We reached the elevator to go down into the surveillance area of the Citadel and it opened to show us all down there and begin our work.


    Hm.


    Guys?


    We can take two rides down.


    Not everyone needs to fit in the elevator.


    Dammit, these Iterants have no sense of personal space!


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khanrow


    ¡­


    ¡°Careful, Morgan, you¡¯re going to catch flies like that.¡± I chuckled and Morgan was startled out of her stunned look. She glared at me, and I could only laugh. Then, she glowered. I believe that she knows I like to see her being expressive, so she has committed herself to doing so to endear herself to me. I didn¡¯t mind. ¡°Ah, this reminds me when I first walked into the war room that he designed. Complete with signalers, messengers, runners, and clerks to process battlefield reports¡­ practically an overnight construction.¡±


    ¡°Even if there is precedent, this remains ridiculous.¡± Morgan looked around hawkishly. The new facility formed by the Citadel was a series of tables surrounding a map of the region. A map of the region that was being refined as we spoke as our king looked over maps. He was forming the region in his mind, sending the signals through the rings, and creating a likeness of the land that any commander would beg to have. On a table next to the forming map, were numerous pieces and labels. Anything that travelled roads were squares, while those that flew were triangles. Iterants were meticulously placing them on going to and from the Citadel. ¡°We notified him two days ago. He arrived here today. He¡­ discerned near-foolproof method to find these infiltrators! He did this thereafter with a handful of hours!¡±


    ¡°There are those with talent, and then there are those who make the world move when provided the right lever.¡± I pointed upward, obviously at the massive Citadel above us, and Morgan¡¯s mouth clicked shut. ¡°He has four Citadels, a nation, and voraciously devours every text that we can lay our hands on, while spending evenings planning and plotting on various possibilities.¡±


    I was tempted to point out that she was present at those evenings, obviously to entice him, but she was my granddaughter.


    It¡¯s not my place to joke about such matters.


    My daughter most certainly will tease Morgan, though.


    Morgan grumbled lowly, and we reached him as he loomed over the map of the region at the room¡¯s center.


    ¡°Khanrow. Morgan. I¡¯ve received your reports. Have you read my own findings?¡± He glanced at us and gave a small bow of his head. Normally, he¡¯d address me with more respect and honor. However, I could feel the gazes of the Iterants in the room intensify immensely at the simple nod. Morgan, I did not know if she noticed, took a sharp breath. The Iterants in this room were zealous beyond belief. I met Geneve and the others long ago while I searched for the Scholar¡¯s remnants. They had been courteous and professional. Now, I was sure that if I uttered a single wrong word, they¡¯d set upon me with long knives in the dark. Loyalty beyond reason within hours of arriving at the Citadel. The absurdity was such that I wouldn¡¯t believe it if I did not see it myself.


    ¡°Yes, those metal detectors should solve the issue of infiltrators. Giving them to the security force should be enough. I take it all of this is for a greater threat?¡± Morgan spoke, and Jack raised an eyebrow. She cleared her throat and glanced at me, insinuating that she was acting properly because of my presence. He took the difference in stride and nodded. ¡°May I ask what that is?¡±


    ¡°The Scholars can¡¯t have done this alone. Everything needs funding, expertise, and support. Frankly, if it was only them, they¡¯d already be dead with our existing preparations. Yet, here they are making infiltrators we can only find because of our caution, after a coalition against us formed.¡± As always, Jack earned his moniker when he spoke. The supplies and sophisticated magics we found at the site made far more sense with support from the coalition that now opposes us. It was a simple, logical explanation, but one that barely occurred to me. Of course, even with their current focus on improving their lands and preparing to war amongst themselves, they¡¯ll have enough to spare for actions against their primary opponent. I¡¯d do the same in their shoes. ¡°This institution will be our sword and shield against the espionage activities of our current foes.¡±


    Morgan opened her mouth, then paused, before shaking her head and speaking candidly.


    ¡°If we know that much, why not make it a reason to attack? We should fight now, before they amass enough Citadel Guardians to secure their territory.¡± Her words earned her glares from all the Iterants present. Only when Jack nodded and smiled at her astute observation did the sudden anger turn into jealousy. Remarkable. He only met these Iterants today. They¡¯re a new batch removed from the main pool. Was it something in their creation that led them to be more devoted to those with stronger Ancient lineages? Or, was it entirely his own efforts? ¡°We can declare their intentions to the whole nation and they will believe us and go to war for our sake, your majesty.¡±


    Morgan¡¯s argument was sound, but I knew she was set to be stunned when Jack smiled before answering her.


    That meant he already considered that path and its futility, but was ready to present his own, better path instead of demeaning Morgan¡¯s proposal.


    He never disparaged.


    He only ever improved on what others believed was already correct.


    ¡°We could, but I want them to bleed, to waste their resources, and to fund the Scholars without knowing that the Scholars have already lost.¡± Of course. We had them in the palm of our hand, now. If we said nothing, the various Scholar cells will assume we discovered nothing. Their funders will not know, either. Now, they were going to continue coming our way, plotting and planning, and innovating with new magics and technology¡­ which will fall into our hands. ¡°And, when the time comes, we will unveil all of it¡­ and have them pin the blame on each other and break their bonds apart. And, when those bonds break, they¡¯ll use the Citadel Guardians that they¡¯ve made on each other.¡±


    I blinked as his words suddenly made my blood go cold at his final words.


    Of course.


    The Citadel Guardians we have must remain in our territory.


    Their Citadel Guardians can traverse all over their combined lands as their towers were all bound together.


    He will have them waste time building them, then have them turn on each other.


    Jack¡¯s smile was wide as he finished his point succinctly and humbly.


    ¡°Let us have them build Citadel Guardians and have them waste themselves upon one another, then we¡¯ll strike in the chaos of it all.¡±


    The Ancients and their progeny are terrifying indeed.

 V9: Chapter 7

    V9: Chapter 7


    ¡­


    Here¡¯s the thing with AI-led coalitions against you.


    They don¡¯t last.


    Sure, if you disable their faction victories and enable alliance victories, there¡¯s a slim chance that they do it. However, nine times out of ten, their alliance falls apart, and they go ahead and start killing each other.


    Reports from the Iterants in their lands are already reporting that¡¯s the case.


    With Celia taking the Guardians off the table, since she was working on unfucking their government and switching over to Undead mass-production, the Forgers were eyeing up the Merchants and their lands. The Merchants were trying to build up defenses and a standing army, but their Civil War killed their few military units off, and most mercenary companies were still recovering from fighting against the Death Lord. Meanwhile, the Wardens knew I was coming for them, so they were on their borders ready for an invasion and they were trying to stall for time while keeping their coalition together.


    In short, their coalition was going to blow up in twelve more turns.


    Usually, coalitions last between fifteen turns or sixteen turns. The game reasoning was that the devs don¡¯t want to knock the fun out of capturing lots of Citadels fast. They want you to slow down, not just spam attack moves and churn out units. Basically, the whole coalition thing was a measure to make the players play the rest of the game by managing the tech tree and cities and resources. If every game is just about rushing and aggression, and if it¡¯s so effective you¡¯re basically just LARPing if you don¡¯t go for early game cheese and rush, then you may as well boot up an RTS game instead of playing a 4X game.


    Coalitions are basically big stop-signs that tell you that you¡¯ve won as far as you currently can and that you should do something else for a bit, so that you can enjoy the rest of the game.


    As for my current reality, the coalitions don¡¯t fail by fiat.


    They fail because of their mentality.


    They don¡¯t see one another as permanent allies, just ones of convenience. Eventually, they all planned to fuck each other over, because they didn¡¯t trust each other not to fuck each other over. Thus, they all planned and plotted to fuck each other over, while their spies looked at one another, and validated their thoughts.


    In short, it¡¯s just like the game.


    They¡¯re prioritizing their special victory conditions above all else, and the current coalition was just a ¡®reasonable¡¯ move for the time being.


    Meaning that it was the perfect time to have them kill each other.


    ¡­


    Morgan and Khanrow were understandably interested in my plans to subvert the other factions, and I was happy to explain.


    ¡°So, currently, we have the operations against the Wardens going on. Justiciar Replacement.¡± The name was on the simple side, but it wasn¡¯t. It involved empowering radical factions of the Guardians, bringing Khalai¡¯s reputation down, and stirring up political unrest throughout their nation. ¡°You¡¯re both already aware of this. We¡¯ll be making our moves in two years, contact¡¯s been made, and we¡¯re observing the situation closely to determine what we can do to undermine Khalai¡¯s support¡­ or just kill him outright and let the power vacuum do the work.¡±


    ¡°The last check I made, I found that we had assets inserted into their populace prior to the Conquerors joining us. We have made significant progress already, correct?¡± Morgan requested a full briefing on the subject. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t suspect that I didn¡¯t brief her on purpose. Around the time she arrived, I wasn¡¯t sure whether to use her or have her killed quietly. When the request came, probably because Khanrow decided she should know, I just told her she hadn¡¯t had clearance when we started the project. ¡°Since then, Iterants have replaced them and have risen in their ranks.¡±


    ¡°Correct, just as what the Scholars are hoping to do here. Just ahead of the curve with better, less detectable assets.¡± After the Scholars wasted enough money, I¡¯ll release this information on how to find them. Everyone will spend time making metal detectors and scanning people. Iterants don¡¯t show up on them. Whatever hyper-tough alloy they were made of, it wasn¡¯t metal. Probably some sort of ceramic, like the Citadels. How ceramic material shapeshifted, I didn¡¯t know. Magic, probably. ¡°They will either foment rebellions, inciting criminal elements and the like, or they will conduct an assassination strike with all their numbers. Hopefully, it won¡¯t come to that.¡±


    We had a thousand Iterants in the Warden¡¯s capital now, spread across various districts, and biding their time. More were streaming in slowly but surely. A long time ago, we worked with the Smiling Tyrant to get entertainers spread across the whole continent. An espionage increases in all countries that were affected by our culture, basically.


    I cribbed a lot of copyrighted materials and made them make sense in the setting, so that theatre troupes could flood the continent. The constant number of shows and plays they hosted made them big troupes, and people were none the wiser as more and more of the troupes became Iterants. The money they brought in went back to their funding, which enabled more shows and more troupes, so I had a lot of shapeshifting killer robots acting out seasons of shows that I watched back home.


    The fake actors will feign falling out with their troupe, and look for jobs in towns and cities, and generally immigrate with little suspicion.


    When the time came, they¡¯ll activate, and wreak havoc, until they get put down by Citadel Guardians.


    At the very least, if my plans fail, I can effectively cripple all my opponents and blitz through them while they¡¯re recovering from the sudden surge of hyper-lethal robots in their midst.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    But that would waste Iterants that I would otherwise like to become the bureaucracy of my conquered territories.


    ¡°Why now have them attack now? We can do truly massive amounts of damage with them already. The longer we wait, the greater the chances of them discovering Iterants exist.¡± Morgan pointed out. It was scary how close she was to my game knowledge with just intellect and cunning alone. Sure, her plans looked shortsighted from my perspective, but I pretty much had hindsight on my side. If she knew what I knew, she¡¯d have this whole continent under her control already. ¡°We can have the Wardens under our thumb within the year.¡±


    ¡°If we unveil the Iterants, I want it to be wholesale. A complete, continent-wide assault across the entire enemy coalition, followed by full-scale military operations to swiftly take all Citadels.¡± Morgan blinked owlishly at my words, while Khanrow nodded. Khanrow was the more experienced warlord and espionage specialist. He preferred long-term plans and patience when possible. His nodding was basically implicit approval of my plan. Why wouldn¡¯t he approve of it? We practically thought it up together. ¡°That will be possible within a year. I have confidence in their ability to remain unnoticed for that long. However, I would rather have them be unnoticed and continue to act in our stead. They¡¯ll be very useful as bureaucrats or people to rule in our stead when the conquest is complete.¡±


    Morgan sat straight up at that statement, my words probably connecting the Demon Lord¡¯s neurons together and making them spark.


    Of course, having killer shapeshifting robots rule over the conquered states will make her understand.


    She¡¯s literally developing mind-control magic, of course she¡¯d like that idea.


    ¡°I see. I retract my suggestion. They would be far better unveiled, as you say, your majesty.¡± Morgan had a big smile on her face and seemed content. I could only assume that I placated the Demon Lord, as she stared at me with interest rather than any malice. Chalking that shit up as a win, chat. ¡°So, the Wardens will fall within two years?¡±


    ¡°If all goes well, yes.¡± I gave a decisive nod, before leaning back onto my chair, and giving a small sigh. As good as my plans were, Morgan¡¯s initial suggestion was good as well. I threw her a bone, just in case she was feigning being pleased by my answer. Please, don¡¯t kill me. ¡°Of course, we¡¯ll go with the assault if the operation falls apart. We are working on a strict time limit, after all.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Morgan bowed her head in gratitude, while Khanrow gave his own nod once more.


    Good. The two real rulers have assented.


    Time to present the rest of the projects.


    They were already aware of us working to have everyone else waste their money having Scholars do espionage against us, so I moved ahead.


    ¡°For the Guardians, we¡¯re stalling placing more people in their ranks. They¡¯re going to have a civil war soon, with how Celia is upturning their whole society. When it ends, we¡¯ll return to a population desperately looking for succor.¡± They were updated on the goings on with the Guardians, so my update on that received nods quickly. It was just sound, logical planning, so no one had much to say. ¡°For the Merchants, reports are coming in, and I¡¯m honestly hoping to leverage a buyout. Unveil our hand, tell them we¡¯ll destroy them, and offer them lucrative trade rights as a client state. After they abolish slavery, naturally. And, of course, if the Forgers don¡¯t attack them first.¡±


    The Merchants were poorly positioned after their ordeal with the Death Lord event. They lost a lot of money, the mercenary forces across the continent were depleted, and their leader had to fight tooth and nail to retain her position.


    Who knew using threaten, intimidate, and demand would cause such ripple effects?


    I hadn¡¯t, but I had hoped.


    Anyway, the Forgers were the problem.


    ¡°As you know, though, the Forgers are reclusive. They refuse entry to anyone besides their own to their main Citadel and hidden, underground city. Towns and cities above ground are resource extraction points for them¡­ and the best we can do is cripple raw material production by activating our Iterants there¡­ but I do have a potential solution.¡± In-game, plagues and epidemic events happened in Dwarven society often. They needed to have specific research topics done to keep those events from happening, as well as resources to spare. If they didn¡¯t have that research, or the resources, then they¡¯ll lose swathes of their population due to lack of genetic diversity in their society. In-game, you can overcome that in a few turns with population growth and food bonuses. Not here. ¡°Against them, we¡¯ll develop a weapon similar to what we used against the Beast Tribes that allied with the Death Lord, but far, far more potent in order to force them above ground. I only had the Alchemists begin, but results are promising so far.¡±


    I gave the latest dossier on the bioweapon project ¡°Red Pox¡± over to Morgan and Khanrow.


    Low lethality, high communicability, but most importantly: high visibility.


    I¡¯ll terrorize the Forgers by giving them very itchy, red skin that¡¯ll leave scars and send them into a panic into finding above ground settlement.


    There, they¡¯ll find that other mortals don¡¯t get the plague and can treat it.


    While they¡¯re up there, we¡¯ll infiltrate them, and follow them back inside as new servants.


    Judging by the shared looks between Morgan and Khanrow, and their nods after reading through the plan, they approved.


    Still, though, it¡¯s important for dialogue to exist and for vocal agreements.


    ¡°Red Pox is a simple rash, but geared specifically to avoid damaging eyes, nose, and lungs. Efforts are being undertaken to make it airborne, to react to skin specifically.¡± There were a lot of caveats to this bioweapon. It was designed to be a highly visible irritant. Not even close to poison ivy in terms of pain. It was closer to chicken pox, and gimped so that it didn¡¯t hit the stage of small pox. ¡°Tests on rats have so far showcased far too lethal consequences, as well as transmission to mortals outside of the Forgers.¡±


    ¡°How can we make it resistant to magic? Most poxes are easily overcome by magic and supplemental vitamins. We know this from our own studies.¡± Khanrow spoke this time, while Morgan absorbed the information. I was sure her next question would be why we were making it less lethal. The answer to that, of course, was that we needed Forgers. They were too skilled as craftsmen and technicians to let die off. We needed Scholars, too, but they bred like rabbits and their population was skyrocketing already. They¡¯re going to be our best pilots. Small bodies, fantastic reflexes, and late WW2 wooden-framed jet aircraft in seven years. Fingers crossed. Just going to go ahead and skip pistons. ¡°¡­It¡¯s not a pox, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s a small, living organism adapted to the task. The smallest soldier that we can produce. Mushroom spores that spread swiftly in the underground, which are resistant to magic.¡± Living creatures can be made resistant to magic. That¡¯s how familiars work, and how monsters work, too. Athlete¡¯s foot came to mind. Fungal infections are alive and require specific treatments. For a moment, I honestly considered a fungal parasite, but I didn¡¯t like the words magic and parasite in the same sentence. Gave me a serious gut feeling to not fuck around with, unless at the end of my ropes. ¡°They¡¯ll spread and grow in the dark recesses of their underground cities, spread, and make the Forgers fear for their lives¡­ and going above ground without armor will kill it off swiftly.¡±


    We were still working out the kinks, making what we had unlikely to clog up the lungs and fill them with mushrooms, but it looked good so far.


    I pre-empted Morgan¡¯s question before she came up with it, though.


    ¡°Naturally, the lethal version will be developed and produced in large quantities. After we conquer the Forgers, we¡¯ll use the bioweapon against the rest of the planet, after protecting our own populations.¡±


    Given our territory and population disparity compared to the rest of our enemies, chemical and biological weapons were really our best advantages.


    Nuclear?


    Yeah, just in case, I¡¯m not going to scream out to the rest of the galaxy that we¡¯re here and alive, thanks.

 V9: Chapter 8

    V9: Chapter 8


    ¡­


    Interlude: Celia


    ¡­


    Consciousness returned to me and I opened my eyes to the familiar canopy of my bed.


    The rest of my room, however, was in disarray.


    ¡°My lady, you¡¯re finally awake.¡± Catherine¡¯s voice drifted my way, while I sat up. The steady beeping of arcane machinery of the Ancients combined with the subtle hum of magical tools. My room was laden with magical power. All of which was dedicated to facilitating healing of the Undead. Healing me. ¡°You were out for two days. It was an assassination attempt.¡±


    ¡°The time for duels of honor has passed, then.¡± I grunted and took off the blanket. Newly-grown, pale skin was over my right arm and most of my torso. Faint memories of flame and shrapnel came forward in my mind. Shrapnel that did more than just cut into me. ¡°They must have used many old artifacts to make that bomb.¡±


    ¡°We extracted over eighty pieces of enchanted silver from your body. Were either Mallory and Christine not yet fully blooded, you¡¯d be dead.¡± Catherine offered me a solid hand and let me onto my feet. I only wore baggy, airy sleeping trousers below the waist. It was improper to walk about in such a state under normal circumstances, but I had just survived a most grievous blow. My teacher, thus, said nothing. ¡°We acted on the plans you prepared for the occasion.¡±


    ¡°Who tried to claim the ring?¡±


    ¡°House Donnovan colluded with House Pictor and House Vitra.¡± The most conservative and least amenable to change of our whole council. They refused any compromise, and demanded a return to tradition. Some were swayed by words, others with concessions and promises, but they held true to their beliefs. Now, they were gone. ¡°They are all now being drained of their ichor as we speak. The rest of the council approved.¡±


    Extraction of ichor was to take from the body of Vampires the essence of their power and immortality. It was a rare, fatal punishment. But one that allowed for the destruction of a lineage to be the seed of a new household¡­ or in this case thousands of soldiers. House Donnovan, Pictor, and Vitra were gone, and no new noble house was to replace them, instead I will make fledglings in the thousands, they will grow, they will be blooded, and they will mature, then I will have them make fledglings of their own. In a few years, I will be able to have a whole division of powerful warriors in my armies.


    ¡°Then, with my survival, we¡¯ve made inroads towards finding some sort of victory.¡± I went to the balcony out of my room. I was in the Citadel, living overlooking the whole of the capital, and grimaced at the state I found it in. There were streets being unbarricaded. Districts were up in arms, and protests were ongoing. Counterprotests against them were barely being stopped from coming to blows. I tapped into my citizenry, to those who once never had a voice before under our rule, and they grew in strength and power within weeks. The assembly of people that I envisioned to counter the council divided and divergent, and their only common cause was the marginalization of those who ruled over them before. I knew already why they were protesting. ¡°The Igniters wish the whole of the Nobility dead and the Spearheads wish to protect them.¡±


    The Igniters had a single, overarching goal: to take my proposal of reformation to its utmost. It will be a land of equality without nobility, whether the nobility releases their powers willingly or not. Necromancers flocked to their cause, and they held power in the industrial districts and the towns where most materials were produced. Working with them, allowing them to employ Amalgams and larger beasts as undead laborers, made productivity soar. However, as they gained more power and influence, they asked me for more, and when I denied them, the only way to appease them was to take power away from the nobility.


    The Spearheads, meanwhile, rose in opposition to them. They were born from those who aspired to become nobility themselves. Fledgling immortals who intended to rise to prominence and gain wealth and power for their bloodlines. They worked with merchants and invested their wealth and power, so that our lands would invite more trade from outside, and since they acted our coffers grew and grew. However, they opposed the elimination of the Council, or even the recalling of their rights. Their perceived, future rights as soon-to-be-nobility.


    From the two coalitions came forth immense amounts of wealth and production capacity, but keeping them in line and content was a challenge.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Catherine bowed her head and joined me at the balcony, but not before placing a coat over my shoulders. It was not my old coat. It was a new one. The other one must have been no more than rags from the attack. ¡°I¡¯ve barely managed to convince the remaining noble Houses to not place themselves in seclusion.¡±


    Seclusion meant at least a century away from mortal affairs. They would seal themselves away, using magic to carve catacombs into mountains, and sealing away the entrance by recreating rockfaces. Within the dark halls, they would settle, and they would take with them artifacts, knowledge, experience, and power.


    ¡°In the face of Armageddons and change, they choose to run. After people they called their own tried to kill me.¡±


    ¡°My lady¡­¡± Catherine trailed off, and shook her head. ¡°I am afraid to admit it, but I believe allowing them to seclude themselves will be the right choice. Their continuing presence is only driving all to a fever pitch.¡±


    ¡°The Spearheads will have something to say.¡±


    Catherine shook her head.


    ¡°If the current nobility leaves, they leave behind a vacuum for officers, officials, and many positions. The Spearheads will be placated. The Igniters will celebrate their perceived foes leaving as a victory, but we can give them more control over the factories as a prize of their own.¡± My teacher sighed and looked upon the city that I saw now. With this decision, by having the nobility abdicate, we will remove from the equation a terrible power that is fueling much of the protests. We lose much, but our gains will be significant. ¡°They will be easier to control without such a singular thing polarizing so many to near-blows.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I considered it for a moment, closing my eyes, and for a moment there was no city at the foot of the Citadel.


    Only the armies of the Houses, united, under a single banner was triumphant against the hordes of monsters that came forth to protect their homeland.


    An army that I have not seen since that day.


    When I opened my eyes again, I saw the city built around the Citadel since then, filled with so many people that were not a part of that battle, but were not citizens under my rule.


    ¡°Make it so. Give them the word that they may seclude themselves, and may we meet again in the future under better circumstances.¡± I could not tolerate it. Not any longer. No after the attempt on my life after the changes I made catapulted us so swiftly past our previous heights. We can forge armies within weeks and have them armed. Our coffers were full and we were hiring specialists from all walks of life to our city. Our university was full of scholars, our ministries were recording and issuing my decrees swiftly, and our courts were fully functioning. ¡°Have the Council Hall refurbished. Look upon records of the past for the institution once used by the Ancients to allow all to have their voices represented.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡± Catherine bowed and left me to my thoughts.


    Some doubt crawled into my heart as she left me with only my healing wounds and the cool winter air.


    Was this truly the right path?


    ¡­


    Interlude: Riegert


    ¡­


    I will never be used to how prophetic Jack¡¯s words could be.


    After killing the assassin of the Academy, he bid me to trace his steps and fend where he had come from. It seemed like a simple mission, so I questioned why I was being given a whole expeditionary force for the task, as well as instructed to call for help if the need arose. Jack decided to be enigmatic at that moment, simply stating that caution is needed when it came to dealing with a faction that had access to demonic blades that could corrupt Champions instantly, and I dropped my line of questioning.


    Now, after bringing a part of the body to many mages, extracting its essence, and tracing its path of destruction with spells dedicated to finding traces of it¡­ I found myself looking upon a large crater in the middle of nowhere.


    A crater filled with horrific monsters.


    I took down my long lenses from my eyes and shook my head.


    ¡°Another aerial strike. A few more strikes from the mages as well.¡± Oswald addressed me, putting down his own sights. He went from stronger rejuvenation after the last campaign. Gone was the scarred and weathered man with a bare head. His wisdom was plain to see in his eyes, but he had short hair close to his scalp, and he wore Citadel alloys as armor. If I met this Oswald decades ago, when I first met him, I would¡¯ve thought him a lordling from some wealthy Academy household. ¡°They do not seem to be very effective, general, but they are working.¡±


    ¡°Any word from the fliers regarding our neighbors noticing our presence?¡± We were in unclaimed Academy territory, primarily thanks to it being close to the Death Lord¡¯s territories. Our closest neighbors were the Guardians, but a day¡¯s ride away were the Merchants. Two days and the Forgers could be here. The Wardens kept a close eye on the region, too. ¡°We may have to ride out, if we¡¯ve been noticed.¡±


    ¡°Latest report was just a few minutes ago. We¡¯re clear.¡± I ran the numbers in my head. Mages needed time to rest between strong bombardments. Our aerial cavalry needed to be re-armed before they can fly out, as well. Half-an-hour, then fifteen minutes of violence, and then another half-an-hour. From the results of the first barrage, we¡¯d need three more cycles of attacks. Four hours. Then, searching the wreckage thoroughly while lacing it with explosives to deny it, would take half a day. If we haven¡¯t been found yet, and if we¡¯re found in the next four hours, we still had time.


    ¡°Three more bombardments. Kill as many as we can with that, but then we need to be cautious of our neighbors and take the site. We need to be out here in a day, so make sure the men are ready to work through the night to search the location and deny it to the enemy with explosives.¡± Oswald gave a nod, and began directing the officers standing ready behind us. In moments, my commands were coursing through the command center. I received a written copy of it, and I validated it, and it reached the rest of the officers. If they made any mistakes in their commands, they rectified them, before heading over to their men. In less a half-an-hour, my commands will be known to the whole of the expedition, and five thousand soldiers will do as I bid. ¡°Oswald, has the response¡ª


    ¡°Already here, general.¡± Oswald produced a slim letter from inside his cuirass. Black in coloration, it was obvious that it was high-priority communications. The seal upon it was our nation¡¯s crest, and it was alive with magic. Any attempt to open it without the right magic would set the letter aflame. And, even then, the letter itself was written in a cypher. A cypher that needed a magical lens to look upon. With espionage being the primary focus in the coming years, we invested heavily in securing our most vital communication lines. All the riders of the high-priority lines were Iterants, and their loyalty was almost beyond belief. ¡°Arrived just minutes ago. Rider has already swapped and is ready for another run. They¡¯re a different breed.¡±


    They¡¯re not mortal at all, in fact, but Oswald didn¡¯t know that yet.


    I opened the letter, undid the seal with my magic, and pulled out the monocle needed to read it. There was a blizzard of words, phrases, and non-intelligible scribblings over the paper. The lens got rid of all the unnecessary portions and revealed the true message, like it was simply, plainly written on the paper.


    It was almost laughable how simple the message was, if not for the sobering thought of how the message would be used by our enemies if they received it.


    Leaving the Goddess¡¯s protections to Iterants. King of Wisdom in the north solving mind-replaced bodies by Scholars. Rita and Myself leaving Capital to assist with requested transport capacity.


    We had a Nature Goddess.


    We discovered people with minds replaced in our most northern lands.


    And, finally, we had no Champions in our capital.


    We had the ability to move thousands of troops and assets across the continent in a day.


    Simple, important information that I would never wish for our enemies to know.


    I burned the letter in my hands, after reading it, with just a whispered phrase. If I did not, it would¡¯ve burned up within three days by itself.


    Nothing writ in the letters was kept recorded.


    Reinforcements were on their way, meaning that Ilych and Rita were going to be here, and we¡¯ll be able to leave swiftly as I told them to bring enough transports for everyone and everything.


    Giving me a bit of room to work with.


    ¡°Oswald?¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m placing you in command, while I put these creatures to the test.¡± Oswald opened his mouth to disagree, but again looked at the crater. The ruins of a strange, massive vessel were at the center and filled with Ancient technologies. Surrounding it were strange machines armed eerily like the Demons described by Khanrow. Our normal weapons were barely effective. I had a feeling Conquerors with Citadel weaponry would be very effective, and our new cannons would be very powerful against them, too. However, since I read the reports, I had wondered: was a Champion enough to slay one of the Demons in their infernal machines? ¡°If you think I¡¯m going to lose, I give you permission to deploy our specialists to save me.¡±


    ¡°Aye, general. Good hunting.¡± Oswald gave a nod and bow. The man I knew was still there, beneath all the newfound youth and health. A grin formed on his face, and I mirrored it without thinking. ¡°Don¡¯t hog all the glory. Remember some for the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±


    Now, then.


    Time to see if a strong enough axe arm and a keen mind can do something about the terrors to come.

 V9: Chapter 9

    V9: Chapter 9


    ¡­


    Wow, Celia survived the assassination event.


    Guess that I need to prepare to deal with her for a couple of decades.


    ¡°Ayah, start supporting and aiding the Guardians from the shadows. Celia has no choice but to start accepting our help now.¡± Ayah gave a prim bow, while Morgan looked up from her plate, and Khanrow just kept eating. We were having breakfast. Instead of a newspaper, I read up on espionage reports. ¡°If things go well, we can have Undead armies to hold the line. If Celia proves to be uncontrollable, we¡¯ll replace her, too.¡±


    ¡°Revolutions tend to consume themselves with time. The same fanatics she¡¯s used to wrest control from the nobility can be aimed towards herself.¡± Khanrow agreed, as I passed him the sheaf of papers. He was having a bowl of soup for breakfast, along with some boiled eggs and toast. Morgan was having the same. Meanwhile, I was having steamed vegetables and fish. Being in my early twenties, I wanted to look out for my health. Sure, I could just abuse the medical pods to stay slim and look good, but I didn¡¯t want to make a routine of it. I didn¡¯t want to rely on technology that I might not have access to when I retire. Felt like a psychopath on a CEO grindset eating it for breakfast, though.  ¡°We should be on the watch for Necromancers who abandon the Guardians. Extremism has moderates leave swiftly.¡±


    Morgan said nothing for a few moments, before throwing up her hands.


    ¡°Fine! Allow me to ask: wouldn¡¯t it be better to take over the Guardians now, while they¡¯re weak and their nobility are all entering seclusion?¡±


    I looked at Khanrow, and he looked at me.


    He took a spoonful of soup and slurped it, so I took that as my cue to explain.


    ¡°They are secluding themselves now, but if we invade, they¡¯ll come out in force and ride out as conquering heroes. If they have the chance to avoid their seclusion, they¡¯ll take it. In fact, I believe that they only enter it now because they know they¡¯ll be needed in a few years.¡± It must be nice to just be able to hole up in a mountain after fucking up politically. After literally losing the nation they had by the balls, because they couldn¡¯t be bothered to be proactive, the nobility of the Guardians could just pack up, carve into a mountain, and seal the entrance to sleep off their loss. The wonders of not being able to enter suspended animation. ¡°We attack now, and we¡¯ll find whatever army we send turned to mulch by Guardians and all the Elder Vampires left on the planet. Then, we¡¯ll need to commit everything to not waste those lost lives. We can win, if we commit all our offensive forces, but the losses would be too great.¡±


    ¡°I see. I need to work on my long-term views on many matters.¡± Morgan shook her head and frowned at herself. I wasn¡¯t about to agree, but I didn¡¯t disagree. Lying to her felt like a good way to get killed. Telling her that she should work on another skill sounded like a good way to get killed. The best course of action is to stay neutral and talented enough to be worth keeping around and not mind-fucked. Hm. Steamed fish and vegetables is quite good for breakfast. I¡¯d rather have a soup, though. Something with a light broth would be great. ¡°I broached the matter of gaining more responsibility. I would like to have as much responsibility as my grandfather or General Riegert.¡±


    The Demon Lord made her move, and I was in no place to refuse.


    So, I didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Do you want the center, the north, or the south?¡± Morgan blinked and looked at me like I¡¯d grown a second head. Or, maybe, like I was eating steamed fish and vegetables for breakfast like a freak. Likely the former. Her head was probably filled with ideas on how to wheedle out more power from me. Not necessary in the slightest. I wanted to use the Demon Lord to her fullest extent. Champion and general was the most effective way to do that. It¡¯s better to get specialized Champions for the cities. ¡°The north is here against the Guardians, which will be mostly immobile. South will be against the Wardens. The center against the Merchants and the Forgers when the time comes.¡±


    ¡°The center is the most dynamic.¡± Khanrow spoke up. Yeah, there¡¯s another piece of the puzzle. The man who gave me my power was right here on the table. What was I supposed to do? Tell her in front of her grandfather that she¡¯s not worthy of being a general? I¡¯m paranoid, but I¡¯m not stupid. Not only that, but brown-nosing, knowing the atmosphere, and game knowledge have practically been my only real assets this life. I couldn¡¯t train my game knowledge, but I trained heavily in understanding the atmosphere and knowing what to say to get people to like me. Obviously, Khanrow will like me more by promoting his only granddaughter. ¡°You¡¯ll learn the most there, and you can provoke the Merchants and Forgers to test you and your troops. Put them to the sword in the Academy¡¯s former lands to learn how to move your forces.¡±


    Yeah.


    I¡¯m not about to say no to the rejuvenated warlord who thinks that conducting war is a good way to earn experience in leading troops.


    ¡°¡­I shall take the center, then. I don¡¯t believe I¡¯m capable enough to take the north or the south, especially in the middle of such intricate plots.¡± Intricate? Morgan was buttering me up now, after getting what she wanted. Over here, we were just letting people make mistakes on their own, while against the Wardens we were just funding their opposition and ratcheting up the tension. It¡¯s basic bitch geo-espionage. It¡¯s not even on a different continent. This is stuff that people would just skim over in college history class, or swipe past in a thirty-second video reel. Boring, practical shit. ¡°How many will be under my command?¡±


    Khanrow coughed at the question.


    Almost sounded like he was stifling a laugh.


    ¡°Your command will be the center of the continent. You will assume control of the region. Khanrow and Riegert¡¯s responsibilities when I send them out is to act as rulers.¡± Morgan blinked owlishly. The general statement when she spoke about Riegert probably made her believe that she could just work the espionage layer and fight off some bandits with a full army, unless otherwise ordered. That wasn¡¯t the case in the slightest. Orders take too long to get to people, even with our best fliers and the simple communication tablets provided by the Citadels in our territories. ¡°You will take control of our largest settlement in Academy lands, elevate the surrounding villages to the best of your ability, and do your duties as a general while learning spycraft. Your grandfather and Riegert are not mere generals. They are royalty when they act. So, you shall be royalty in your new position.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Khanrow looked at his granddaughter¡¯s way, and for a moment I thought that he¡¯d say something, before looking away pleased.


    Morgan¡¯s owlish expression had faded in a moment, and she nodded with determination at my statement.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it, and I won¡¯t fail, your majesty.¡±


    ¡°I entrust you with the center of our realm and the defeat of two of our remaining foes. I look forward to seeing the results of your work.¡±


    Morgan¡¯s eyes were steely and her determination to win obvious.


    Alright, the Forgers and Merchants are effectively dead with Morgan hounding them, that means I can focus on dealing with the Guardians and Wardens.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    We arrived at the crater described by Riegert, at the camp he assembled, and found at its center a mechanical beast being taken apart.


    Riegert looked upon it, seated on a crate, with fresh bandages all over his torso.


    And, newly healed flesh all over his arms and non-vital areas.


    Ilych approached him and took off her helm without a word.


    She glared at her father.


    ¡°No need, I¡¯ve learned my lesson already. I¡¯m not trying that again, especially as my armor¡¯s been destroyed.¡± He jutted his bearded chin towards the armor in question. Composed of Citadel Alloys, it was stronger and lighter than steel. Regular rounds from our riflemen would bounce off it with ease. Only Conqueror anti-material rifles and the new cannons could penetrate it. The armor was covered in holes. Some were molten. ¡°The Ancient¡¯s war machines are not to be underestimated.¡±


    ¡°How many did you kill?¡±


    ¡°Five, then I had to retreat. The fifth watched and waited, then nearly killed me. They learn.¡± Riegert gestured at the creature. It was the size of two horses side-by-side, and was crab-like in shape. It had four armored legs with sturdy joints, and its torso was sleek and oval. Were it bipedal, it would have resembled the Ascendant and their war-walkers. These looked far more advanced. ¡°My axe was useful, but magic more so. I had to get creative. Use earth walls to obscure their lines of fire. They can see through smoke, and if you stop for a moment then they¡¯d fill you full of holes. Some sort of heat spell and bullets close to the munitions our new cannons are using.¡±


    The creature had two sets of weapons One on top of the hull and the other set underslung. Both sets had joints and connected to the oval torso with ball-like joins on the back. An impeccable design. It can fire at nearly every direction. It can do so even whilst retreating. Its armor was strong, given the amount of damage it had on it.


    Riegert¡¯s efforts to destroy it ranged from deep gouges on its armor to the signs of lightning piercing it through. He wouldn¡¯t have done so much damage, were it not necessary.


    Only one last piece of information was needed for me to grasp the basics of this creature.


    ¡°It¡¯s speed?¡±


    ¡°As fast as a Conqueror in full sprint, no matter the direction, and it doesn¡¯t tire.¡± Riegert answered, and I understood.


    Fifty of these creatures, but five were gone.


    ¡°I shall deal with the rest. Ilych, stay close with our guards, should the need arise. Mages, prepare protective barriers.¡± I reached for my bow and my quiver. The camp was close enough to the crater that it was only a few strides to reach its edge. After I spoke, Ilych placed her helmet on her head, while the troops under our command moved to do as they were bid. Protective spells effective against cannon shots and heat were established. The mages assigned to us having listened to Riegert¡¯s words. I simply nocked my arrow and prepared to draw my bow, as I crested the ridge formed by the crater. ¡°Have the cannons prepared, just in case they charge.¡±


    Ilych gave out the commands and assembled our forces, whilst coordinating with those under Riegert¡¯s command.


    I looked upon my foes, surrounding the ruined construct, in the middle of the crater.


    Some were patrolling loosely in squads of four. Others were clambering on the broken vessel, casting spells on the hull to try and fix it, and others were hidden away in the ruins and waiting for the moment to strike.


    They will not have it.


    Riegert¡¯s presence came close and he spoke to me.


    ¡°Their weak spot is the rightmost section of their shell. The glowing red orb at the center, and the rest of the chassis, are all tricks. That rightmost section is perfectly angled, just like the left, and it¡¯s harder than the center.¡±


    I gave him a nod of thanks¡­ and the world faded away.


    Until only I and my foes remained.


    Points between which my arrows must travel from and to.


    Then, the world returned when they were all destroyed.


    ¡­


    Much of the vessel was destroyed. Only fragments of ancient technology remained.


    However, as our king predicted, there were parts of it that was designed to withstand returning from the stars.


    ¡°This wreckage fits the description of the Academy¡¯s flying transport.¡± The large construct that allowed our enemies to evade Morgan was ruined. Half of it was nothing more than metal and tubes that were in complete disarray. The other half was burnt and broken. However, the vessel was still partly complete, thus it would be of use. Much like the remains of the machines that we destroyed. ¡°Take it whole and ready it for transport. Levitate it and travel along the roads, if it cannot be flown.¡±


    A smattering of commands resounded through those who followed me.


    Ilych took that as a signal to speak.


    ¡°Much of the vessel was destroyed upon re-entry, but there are places that remain. The sparks that come from many locations mean there is power.¡± Ilych¡¯s winds were in full force. She looked upon the great doors separating where the transport was and the rest of the destroyed structure¡­ and pressed imprints upon it. In a moment, with a great groan, the doors opened. Inside was a an askew walkway with many rooms. She paused as she looked into the hall, even as our mages cast orbs of light into it. ¡°This was a hall of miracles and curses, suspended among the stars, and the Academy kept it for themselves.¡±


    ¡°If there are any curses, we must burn this place.¡±


    ¡°The curses all burned first. It has tried to keep the miracles whole¡­ but it has failed.¡± A touch of somber regret filled Ilych¡¯s tone. I followed her into the askew hallway. The hall was flanked by doors and containers. Many were sealed shut, and more than a few were nothing but ash within. However, in a few rooms, the doors were open and broken remains of Ancient treasures remained. Ilych¡¯s steps almost stopped at the sight of them, but she simply ordered them recovered and treated with care for possible recovery.


    Her steps hastened as she walked further in.


    I took note of the parts and pieces of a human skeleton deeper into the hall, and I had my suspicions on who it was, but there was no soul clinging to the bones.


    Even if it were the headmaster of the Academy, the time to converse with him was long past.


    Finally, we reached the end.


    A single room with a door with a blue light surrounding it remained.


    One final miracle from the Ancients, desperately held by the spirits of this place, even under the command to fall from the heavens?


    Or, perhaps, a curse?


    Ilych looked my way, and I gave her a nod.


    We will not know until we open the doors.

 V9: Chapter 10

    V9: Chapter 10


    ¡­


    Cool, they found the Academy¡¯s secret space station.


    In-game, the loot table for it was pretty horrible and generally not considered worth the effort of taking. Players have the option to destroy it from range, and generally they do, because the Tier 2, mini-boss units they deploy are basically death machines that mulch melee units and outrange most T1 ranged units. Even with just ¡®one unit¡¯ worth of models, the Ancient War Machines can do severe damage to any army that you send against them.


    They may even kill the Champion you attach to the force.


    However, thanks to this being real life, I wasn¡¯t limited.


    Or, rather, Riegert wasn¡¯t limited, and he called in Rita, and she was able to snipe them from afar without risking everyone else¡¯s lives. The report read like some sort of modded, ¡®fixed¡¯ event where the players step in to solve a problem. In this case, the problem was viewed as terribly powerful enemies for shitty loot. Instead of making the loot better, they just provided a skip to the enemies if you have the right Champion. Rita was that Champion in this case, and she killed them all, then the facility was searched without any issue.


    It was just a flaming sword that gave some decent damage, never broke, and is a big reference to all other legendary swords that are covered in fire. Sure, it was effective in putting dots on targets, and testing showed that the flames it cast could somehow melt enemy armor without melting or harming the user, but it was just a weapon. In fact, I wondered if I could just stick it into a constant stream of water and generate electricity with it, because nothing it did couldn¡¯t be done by a napalm strike conducted by my air force.


    However, I did end up lucky, because the corpses of the Ancient War Machines didn¡¯t just disappear into the ether and just turn into XP. Instead, we now had examples of fully automatic rotary assault cannons, as well as a powerful heat ray. Not only that, but the metals of the machines could be analyzed, their joints and stabilizers reverse-engineered, and we were basically looking at Ascendant basic soldiers before they showed up to fuck us over. Finally, the station didn¡¯t just blow up and stop working, either. Parts and pieces of it remained and we were carting it over to a site where it can be studied away from critical areas, but still be predicted.


    The legendary flaming sword that can set armies alight and cook people around the wielder alive is very great for Ilych. The fact that she¡¯s dual-wielding great swords, one that gives her lifesteal and the other one sets her enemies on fire and passively kills them, is amazing. She¡¯s melee-spec¡¯d, thus the item is very much an upgrade to her kit.


    But the recovered bodies and the deconstructed space station are infinitely more valuable.


    Those two keep Ilych alive and dealing damage against her enemies.


    The wrecked robots and the space station give us technology that everyone in my nation can use.


    It¡¯s no contest.


    The wrecks and the ruin are amazing.


    Besides having mages and scholars surrounded by books and wooden furniture disassembling mechs is super cool!


    ¡­


    A turn passed, and springtime came.


    Not that I¡¯d know how spring felt, since Scholar¡¯s Rest was a perpetually cold mountain range with few valleys suitable for agriculture. Scholars took the region thanks to needing far less food and being technologically advanced. If I recalled correctly, they increased yields in their farming regions by using geothermal springs in the early game, developing automat that farmed for them in midgame, and finally cracking the code on food fabricators in the late game, so that they just needed sunlight and a bit of magic to make food as they wanted.


    I secured as many Scholars as I could and had them working solely on agricultural projects. Hopefully, I¡¯d crack that tech tree, but they were doing enough of a good job figuring out fertilizer and pesticides that I couldn¡¯t complain. If their cracking of the code on how to develop those machines came from having to live in a low-food environment like Scholar¡¯s Rest, I¡¯ll be shit out of luck, so I was making sure to store as much food as possible, anyway.


    But back to the turn.


    We had the remains of the Scholars by the balls.


    ¡°Eight infiltrators all detected without their own knowledge. Well done, Ayah. The trap you suggested was perfect.¡±


    ¡°You flatter me, my king.¡± Ayah gave a prim bow. She was clad in a thick, pure white fur coat over her normal maid dress and walked beside me on the open-air terrace on the Citadel. Her tan disguise was a bit paler than usual, since she was emulating the fact that she wasn¡¯t as sun-kissed as she usually was. Anyway,  I was enjoying a hot cup of cider in the cold. Could I drink inside? Yeah, but hot drinks taste way better in the cold. I don¡¯t make the rules. ¡°The tool and surveillance methods were yours. I merely provided a decent addition.¡±


    The decent addition was to have Iterants house metal detectors in their forearms and change the beeping noise made to noiseless vibration.


    Viola!


    The Iterants can scan for metal objects with their arms, thus opening up a myriad of methods to check for the brain implant.


    It was perfect out of the box thinking, which led to our method of detection never being picked up, and no counters being made.


    Now, the Iterants had eight agents trying to climb up the ranks in our city.


    Each one compromised and watched at all times.


    We caught them early enough in their plan that it was easy enough to disrupt their movements. Four of the eight tried to become merchants to nearby villages so that they can establish communications networks. Three worked to become clerks at the at the gatehouses on the city¡¯s outermost walls, so that they could have a say in who gets in and out. One finally got into an alchemist apprenticeship with the intention of becoming a scholar, which was a common enough job.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was the beginnings of an infiltration operation that would take years to accomplish. After getting communication lines and people at the gates, they¡¯ll let more bodyswappers in, and eventually get enough people in that they could do some serious disrupting. If they got enough people at the gates, they can start clearing the way for more infiltrators. Clerks can report missing or rotting supplies, when they¡¯re in fact perfectly fine, and smuggle them out to their own people. Merchants can never deliver vital goods like medicine, claiming they¡¯ve vanished, and people die in nearby villages.  Alchemists have licenses to handle dangerous substances, and getting access to such supplies would be great for any budding ¡®resistance¡¯ movement.


    Eventually, they can do more with more infiltrators, until they penetrate defenses deep enough that they can try for something big.


    Like an assassination.


    However, as of now, we had them in the palm of our hands.


    Because we let the communications lines get established, and we had the fake merchants followed to their desired villages.


    They did everything as they were supposed to, but midway through their journey, they dropped off hidden bags strapped to their bodies beneath their clothes.


    Figures rose out of the snow when they did, covered in metal and gears, and they retrieved the satchels before using a combination of technology and magic to make themselves meld lightly into the environment.


    After that, it took them long, circuitous routes to return to their true destinations¡­ while the Iterants watched.


    Now, our plans were bearing fruit, as we uncovered their safe houses and unraveled operation.


    ¡°I¡¯m tempted to counter-infiltrate them. Take one of the Merchants and replace them with an Iterant.¡±


    ¡°We could most certainly try, my lord.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s a passing temptation. It wouldn¡¯t be wise. They may have codes and phrases that we don¡¯t know, established from the very start.¡± That was Espionage 101. Hell, it was Combat 101. You have a two-step phrase that people can repeat at one another to identify friendlies. Someone says thunder, another one says flash. Anyone says anything besides flash, you shoot them. ¡°Iterants can¡¯t be wasted for mere possibility. Our goal is to find them, kill them swiftly, and discover all that we can.¡±


    Khanrow went off with Morgan to teach her a bit, before taking over the situation with the Wardens. That was slowly bearing fruit with our Anti-Khalai faction picking up steam. We needed to establish security for our puppet. Who better than Khanrow and a few dozen shapeshifting killer robots?


    ¡°Your majesty, for your vision, we would risk our lives without hesitation. Please, do not hesitate to use us.¡± One of the Iterants spoke up from behind Ayah. It earned itself a glare from the Ancient Administrator. They were clad similarly to Ayah. Maid dresses with furred coats over them. Their coats were black, though. The speaker went by Rebecca, I was sure. Spectacles and long, straight red hair. Yep, that¡¯s Rebecca. Martine was the one with straight hair and had a monocle. Jean was blonde with the braids and half-spectacles. ¡°We live to serve the King of Wisdom.¡±


    Really, these guys were just itching to kill people. I mean, massive props for being one flavor or another of maid with eye-wear, but they¡¯re all itching to shapeshift and murder.


    Sometimes, I thought about Ayah¡¯s warnings about them and wondered if I should¡¯ve listened about keeping these guys around like slaves.


    Yeah, nah.


    I¡¯d rather these guys be eager to kill my enemies rather than me.


    ¡°And, I have decided that course of action is not the one that shall be taken.¡± I reminded them as well as I could that I was in charge. Was I very aware of the fact that they could all transform into humanoid masses of flensing blades that I couldn¡¯t do anything against? Yep. That¡¯s why I was reminding them instead of admonishing them. ¡°The Iterants will move cautiously, gather information first, and strike with absolute supremacy. That is my decision.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my king. Your subject hears and obeys.¡± Thankfully, Rebecca complied instantly, curtsying and bowing her head, whilst getting back into line. I took a sip of my drink. It was thankfully still on the warm side. Hm. How hard would it be to mass-produce thermoses? ¡°This one is grateful that her words were heard.¡±


    I gave a small nod in reply, before moving onto the next matter of the meeting and looking towards Ayah. She¡¯s stepped close enough to my left that glancing over at her to look at her eyes made it necessary for my eyes to crest past her chest. She was wearing a white apron over a modest black dress, but everything was well-fitted and tailored to the body-line. That meant that the frilly top part of the white apron was encompassing a lot of chest area. Chest area that I nearly had to crane my head past to look at Ayah¡¯s face.


    Thank you, Scholar¡¯s Rest, for being so cold that I¡¯m already flushed.


    ¡°The next matter is regarding the mining outposts in the area. They are reporting unknown tracks in their perimeter. Tracks that are very similar to the similar to those left by the Scholar¡¯s agents that we¡¯ve been following.¡±


    ¡°They must be looking for shipments of materials to intercept after they¡¯ve been dug out.¡± I did my best to work and ignore what was between my eyes and Ayah¡¯s. It was a desperate struggle, but I won out by turning my gaze towards the horizon of snow-capped mountains in the distance and taking a sip of my drink. Yes. I won by basically running away. A battle avoided is a battle won, after all.  ¡°Set up guards. We need those resources and lines intact.¡±


    We could theoretically bait them to be stolen, then track them down, but that risks experienced porters, materials, and more.


    Let¡¯s keep things as nice and simple as possible.


    Adding more complexity is just asking for trouble.


    ¡°Next?¡±


    ¡°There is a request from the Alchemist Guild branch here at Scholar¡¯s Rest for a meeting.¡±


    ¡°What do they need?¡±


    ¡°They are requesting for specific materials accessible at our capital but not here.¡± I gave a hum at that. I put my cup down, so that it could be refilled. Steam came forth from the pot, while more of my drink was ladled into my cup. We were going to be at this for another hour, so I sat back in my chair and enjoyed the view and the heated drinks. ¡°Incendiary-aligned reagents?¡±


    ¡°Yes, for their efforts to produce a better explosive.¡± Miners usually used magic to excavate. Groups of them activated staffs built for the purpose of mining and turned tunnel ends into rubble. It was fairly effective and safe, but greatly constrained the miners. After expending their power, all they could do is ferry broken rocks onto containers to be ferried out. As dangerous as mining explosives are, the miners will be able to save their energy for enhancing their bodies if they didn¡¯t have to power the staffs. There was a greater risk with the explosives with natural gas pockets or coal veins, but magic existed and I had people looking into ways to look for substances that could ignite. If those were present, we¡¯ll fall back on the tried-and-true method. If they weren¡¯t, then we can use explosives. ¡°The whole guild has been investigated, my lord. None have been found to be infiltrators, or holding any treasonous motives. They also have families that we can easily secure.¡±


    Ignoring that last part for the sake of my mental health.


    ¡°Set the meeting, but inform them to be ready to present their current works according to our academic standards. Fifteen minutes of presentation at most. I shall see their progress first, then make my decision.¡± My words earned me a bunch of nods. Were they being kind and generous, or pitying me for having such a basic-bitch approach to handling the situation? Whichever was the case, I wasn¡¯t about to worry that much. No need to be a trailblazer for every decision in life. Standard gets the job done without fuss. ¡°Next?¡±


    Ayah continued, while I continued to sip on my drink, while enjoying the sun beginning to set amidst the mountains.


    This turn was ending soon, and in a few months, the alliance against us was going to start showing cracks. Some of them were natural, but others were created by us or their own lack of coordination and goals with one another.


    Their cracks will show, and anything I missed will show up as well.


    This¡¯ll be our last chance to gain ground, until we all have to just buckle up and do our best against the tidal wave of foes that were going to rush us with everything that they had.

 V9: Chapter 11

    V9: Chapter 11


    ¡­


    Interlude: Khalai


    ¡­


    Of the brave inquisition that went forth to survey the despoiled lands, only a handful returned with Sirena¡¯s remains and a gift from the Ancients.


    I raised my hands towards the heavens as they knelt before me, their wounds healed by my magic in an instant, but the scars on their souls from what they witnessed still apparent. One what were once gleaming, bright souls were gashes of baleful ebony light threatening to engulf them completely and destroy them. Months of prayer and recuperation will be needed to overcome the ravages upon their souls, but it is a worthy prize for their efforts.


    I met with them at the very edges of our realm, at the small section of land that we could use the access the outside world, as Jack¡¯s kingdom dominated half of the continent, while the Forgers were at our west.


    I moved and knelt before Sirena¡¯s ravaged form, wrapped in a cocoon of liturgies and wax seals designed to contain her power and soul, so that she could more easily be reached from Paradise. Closing my eyes, I bid her to return with a prayer, with one hand on her head and the other making a seal. There was a burst of power, the unraveling of many seals, and Sirena returned hale, whole, and resplendent with immense grace.


    Our eyes met, whilst attendants garbed her in jewelry that accentuated the purity and strength of her form.


    ¡°Oh, Saintess of the Sword, the High Justiciar of the Wardens of the Caverns bid you to look beyond the realm in search of the foes that felled the world and the means to destroy them.¡± I clasped my hands in prayer, she knelt before me, and the gazes of all were upon us both. Those loyal to me, and those who sought to bring me low for a more perfect doctrine. A schism loomed over us. Though I hoped that this would embolden my people, I knew that they would not be swayed. ¡°Tell me the truth of the matter in its entirety.¡±


    Sirena¡¯s head remained bowed, but her voice echoed for all to hear.


    ¡°The world beyond the realm crafted by the Ancients is lost. It is filled with horrors and hateful things bereft of any faith and belief in paradise. Tis a world filled with the enemies of mortal kind, that which the Wardens oppose.¡± Her answer was measured and careful. She was aware of the budding schism of the realm. How could she not, when her sword decided the outcome of more than a dozen such schisms before she willingly gave her life to be called back from paradise in the long future? Her fathom-long silver-steel blade carved through whole ranks of troops and filled the caverns where she tread with blood and viscera. The path of pilgrimage that traced her steps had walls covered in the mere aftermath of her strikes that scared the caves themselves. ¡°They are wicked creatures that sup on the blood of mortals, who murder for the sake of entertainment, and consume flesh for pleasure, and they number in the millions. I plead with the High Justiciar to call for unity across the continent to slay all these wicked creatures. The path to paradise should be tread by mortals without these creatures bearing down upon them.¡±


    She spoke as a Champion of the Wardens of the Caverns should.


    She valued the lives of all mortals in their present state. The enemy surrounded us, so she wished for us to solve danger, and then proceed on the path that our ancestors laid before us. Her mind was that of a warrior of the faith. Her heart was for the people, her sword-arm itched to ravage the enemy, and her life was meant to be spent to destroy the enemies of all mortals.


    Any High Justiciar, myself included, would wish to be able to do as she wishes.


    Alas, I could not pursue such a path.


    ¡°The path to paradise is one that has many thorns and branches. We must do our utmost to walk forward regardless of the danger and threat.¡± It is the will of the people. The heart and soul of the Wardens lie in the great work. The Cathedrals are almost finished. Soon, the vast majority of our people will be able to see Paradise for themselves. Then, then they will return with minds and hearts unclouded. Purpose shall be made clear. There is only one faith. Our faith in the paradise forged by our ancestors for all mortals. ¡°I hear your words, Saintess of the Sword, but the gates must be opened and all peoples be granted passage.¡±


    They will oppose us.


    All of them will oppose us.


    But we will do what is right for all peoples of this world.


    All will be shown to Paradise and those that wish to return to fight with us will become part of a great and holy war that will cleanse the world of all suffering.


    ¡°I pray that your heart be steeled for the challenges that lie ahead, but I have faith that the Ancients have left us a gift beyond to see us reach the end of our great journey.¡± Sirena bowed and whispered a prayer of clarity at my words. She asked for forgiveness and I granted it without a moment¡¯s hesitation. When she rose her head, she stood, and walked to the treasure that hundreds sacrificed their lives for in order to reach us. ¡°Now, let us unseal that gift.¡±


    A pristine, pure-white coffin around which all the survivors knelt around. Sirena reached the base of the coffin and stood aside. It was composed of the same material as the miracles left behind by our forebears. Ever-cool to the touch, nigh-impenetrable, and this one was alive with the spark of power.


    My heart raced.


    I wondered if it could be possible that we found a divine entity as the King of Wisdom did. Though he called it a mere focus point of natural magics, those who were in its presence knew the truth: that under his control was a Goddess of Life. With a touch, the coffin of pure white came alive, and a hiss of frosty mist left the coffins. Lectures and scriptures of the time long ago trawled through my mind, as the power of the coffin escaped, and frost gathered at its base.


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    Then, raw and primal power nearly brought me to my knees, forcing me to struggle to stay upright and peer into the coffin.


    Therein lay a young woman with the ears like our own, straight black hair, in an ebony dress of brocade, velvet, and lace. Her skin was as white as bone, and only her neck and lower jaw was plain to see, with all else on her form completely covered in her finery. A veil attached to a bonnet covered the top her head and most of her face, barely allowing me to see her features through the sheerness of the lace. She slept on a bed of ebony flowers, each one carrying a scent that threatened to lull me to sleep forevermore.


    My heart threatened to burst from my chest, but instead I knelt and so did all the others present.


    Extending my arms outward, I let my worries fall away as I proclaimed the truth to the heavens.


    ¡°We have been blessed! The Ancients are with us! Through time itself, we have been granted the way forward onto salvation!¡± Simply closing my eyes in the Goddess¡¯s presence allowed me to see Paradise. Not only that but I could move within it. I could reach out further and call upon more of our great heroes and finest minds. ¡°Messengers! Call for the priest of our greatest Cathedral! We must see her interred properly for all our peoples and pilgrims to look upon in wonder! My brothers and sisters, we have been blessed beyond words and comprehension!¡±


    I clasped my hands together and bowed my head in prayer, while all others save for the messengers did the same.


    Though I rejoiced, I also wept.


    Our current relations with our allies will surely break apart, and the King of Wisdom will not simply stand idly by and see her grow to her full strength.


    The path ahead was one of pain, of agony, and wrath.


    But it is a path we must tread for the good of all mortalkind.


    ¡­


    On one hand, it¡¯s horrible that the Wardens managed to get the Goddess of Death.


    On the other hand, the Goddess of Life pretty much hard-counters her.


    It¡¯s a whole rock-papers shtick with the three of them. War beats life, life beats death, and death beats war. Death is all about providing loads of debuffs and demerits to enemies, while giving some specific units and technologies that makes it easier to kill your enemies and destroy their morale. War gives bonuses towards enemies with health pools that are larger thanks to buffs, and anything above fifty percent health themselves. Again, there¡¯s technology and units only available to the one who has the War Goddess in question.


    The Goddess of Life provides increased health pools and regeneration to armies on the field. If you¡¯re playing the game for the first time, she¡¯s a godsend since she gives you more room to mess up. However, if you¡¯ve played as much as I have, you¡¯d appreciate being to kill your enemies faster, rather than keeping your units alive. You can keep your units alive through micro, while DPS increases need a lot investment in terms of time and money.


    Stay out of the glowing circles and you¡¯re fine, but gear score and buffs are hard to get, basically.


    Anyway, the Death Goddess is great for the glass-cannon, revival style that the Wardens have. Their units have low health and damage resistance, but high attack. They¡¯re geared towards killing their enemies quickly. With the Death Goddess¡¯s debuffs making that DPS more effective, they¡¯ll lose less troops in combat, get veterancy more quickly, and generally specialize into their niche more. The Goddess of Nature would just make their miniscule health pools decent, and the War Goddess¡¯s units can¡¯t be revived, so even with the buffs being decent, the rest of War¡¯s kit would be wasted.


    But back to the problem at hand.


    I turned over to Ayah, who¡¯s been looking grim since the news arrived from our own agents.


    There¡¯s really only one way to do this right.


    ¡°Inform Forgers, Merchants, and the Guardians of our findings. Prepare everything we have ready to activate. We must try to seize the Goddess that they have taken for ourselves. If we cannot, then we must either seal it away or destroy it.¡± We had actionable intel. We had assets. We can move much, much faster than them. Therefore, we should act. The Death Goddess upgraded itself with death. Death of your troops and the death of other¡¯s troops. Lategame, she¡¯s the best of the three, because everyone¡¯s going to be doing a lot of dying. She could also become a faction leader, but that¡¯s a shitshow I¡¯d rather not have to deal with. Gods don¡¯t make for great rulers, even with all the power that they have at their disposal. ¡°This is our highest priority. Everything else will be on hold. The Wardens must be dealt with.¡±


    Ayah bowed deeply at my statement. My servants were already all over the place and gathering my things to travel back. Since I could have a wardrobe in each Citadel, there wasn¡¯t much, but it was still nice to not have to deal with it.


    ¡°Your majesty, I¡¯ve taken the liberty of getting the reports from the scholars studying the power of the Goddess of Nature. They believe that a sufficiently powerful individual should be able to resist such an attack. The strength of the attack was also linked to the ambient power in the vicinity of the Goddess¡¯s realm.¡± That made perfect sense. It was an AOE attack that go upgraded to do ludicrous damage thanks being cast in a specialized area. A Goddess of Life and Nature would naturally be able to go farther with nature and life in a place that she¡¯s permeating with power and filled with faithful followers. Yeah, I definitely need to triple the amount of firepower I could put in that place, just in case. ¡°We believe that groups of Iterants should be capable of evading a similar attack by the enemy Goddess.¡±


    ¡°I need volunteers. At least three hundred.¡± A unit of Iterants on the open field usually numbered that much. In the early game, if you sent out a Goddess with barely any experience, they¡¯ll be able to fight like a Champion. A whole unit of mid-game class heavy troops with good evasion stats, high damage, and strong army should be enough to chunk a good deal of its help. Then, we can clean things up with Champions. ¡°A vanguard force that will go ahead of the Champions. They will most likely be giving their lives for the nation by my command. Send out the missive. We need seventy-five from each Citadel, and they must be taken piecemeal. One department from the other and none in managerial positions. We have need of their minds and talents where they are.¡±


    I glanced over at those in my retinue.


    ¡°None amongst your number. None of you have my permission to die.¡± I said it as a joke, but I received deep bows in return. Right, that joke fell apart really fast. All I wanted to do was make it clear that they were exempt from my command. I got a signal from one that everything was packed and ready to go, so I gave Ayah a nod. ¡°Let¡¯s go. Make sure that the ones left here are aware of my plans. Spring the trap and destroy them now, then sweep through the region for any remnants. We must focus on bringing the Wardens low, now.¡±


    As much as I wanted to do something with a massive payoff over here, maybe capture some Scholar VIPs, the situation in the south demanded my attention. In-game, the Wardens were strong with the Goddess of Death. Here, it was obvious that the Goddesses needed more faith, resources, and power to get to their level 1 state. However, that can be solved with time and investment, and the fact that the Goddess of Life and Nature was already so strong without that was a sign that I didn¡¯t want any other faction controlling a Goddess.


    We move with everything that we have now, deny the enemy this keystone, and trigger the plots that we already have in motion.


    With some luck, we can claim that we¡¯ve seized the Death Goddess in order to keep it safe from the civil war engulfing the Wardens.


    The theocratic civil war that we¡¯ve put into motion.

 V9: Chapter 12

    V9: Chapter 12


    ¡­


    Man, I sure am glad that I planned on backstabbing the Wardens the moment I met them.


    Having plans and procedures for a surprise attack helped that surprise attack come together much better.


    My transport hit the staging area, and I found Khanrow waiting for me there already.


    "What''s the situation?" The sound of beating wings and horse hooves were behind me, as the transport and the steeds that pulled it were taken away. A constant stream of transports was coming into the airfield. People were hard at work clearing landings, cleaning up droppings, and strengthening the ground with magic so that no ankles or axels broke with ground that was too soft fucking up landings. "Are our patsies on the move?"


    "Yes. A general uprising is starting. It''s early, so they''re few in numbers, but they know the stakes and they have a few churches. We hope that they attract more attention and people." Khanrow was disguised, his head and face covered by full armor. The only symbol of his station was on his lapel. A star right above my nation''s sigil. A general, and if anyone questioned it, he had a seal on his person with my signature beside it. This was how he could operate in plain sight. "I doubt that they''ll last long, regardless. We''ve heard movements from the Forgers and Merchants, but nothing from the Guardians."


    "They''re probably busy keeping their new realm together. What about the Forgers and Merchants? Any armies coming in to take advantage of the situation?"


    "The Forgers are moving. They''re eager to seize the Goddess for themselves. As for the Merchants, a lot of mercenary bands have taken up arms for our incursion, but there''s also some other voices joining in to make a mess of things." Khanrow looked at me through the visor of his helm. "If the Wardens survive this with their Citadel, they''ll have grievances, and they will wage war endlessly."


    "They''ll do that even without their Citadel and their revival areas. They are fanatics, always have been, and the only way forward is to send them to their Paradise." They lived in tunnels for most of their race''s existence. They fought monsters down there after freeing themselves from Undead monsters. On the surface, they''re licentious creatures with little modesty. Beneath that exotic, erotic surface was a fanatical race that followed a death cult and prepared their whole lives to kill or be killed. A child''s first gift is a knife. "Some we can spare if they can be convinced to follow their creed after we face the threats of the past. I have some hope for the common folk. Hm. Are the interment areas completed?"


    "Yes, and they are according to your specifications." I wasn''t going to sugarcoat it. I''m building internment camps for the Dark Elves. Now, before you state the obvious, allow me to explain. If we kill them, they just revive. Taking them alive, making sure that they don''t kill themselves, is the only way to deplete their manpower. "Are you sure that we should play our hand with the Goddess so casually?"


    We were going to do that through a power that the Nature Goddess had called "Harmony." In-game, it made it so that neutral/hostile mobs no longer spawned via event in your territory. If Harmony was active, and you had neutral mobs in your territory, that basically meant someone was sending in mercenaries without uniforms and identifiers into your realm. But that''s beside the point. Harmony worked by putting monsters into forced hibernation, their lives sustained, until they could be moved into enclosures and reservations where they could live in peace.


    If you decide to kill them after Harmony is used, your favorability with the Goddess of Nature goes down by 1 point.


    Out of a hundred.


    You could overcome that by donating a hundred gold pieces to the temple. One time payment only, too. I mean, that''s the upkeep cost of a whole unit of a thousand riflemen for four months, but that''s kinda cheap for using her to finish them all off.


    But I wasn''t about to do that.


    "I''m hoping that we can put them to sleep in her presence. I mean, it worked on Sarala and Riegert when we told them to relax and lower their defenses, and over a thousand of her faithful fell to it." The Mark on my hand seemed to allow me to give the Goddess of Nature some orders, even though she was still mostly asleep and still gathering power. Given that it took months and months of investment and time to get the Goddess this strong, I hoped that the Death Goddess would also be far too weak. Hell, I hoped that Khalai didn''t receive the mark yet. "They only have one standing army of ten thousand, and their strategy revolves around them dying, returning, and being re-equipped to be sent off again when facing a superior force. We need to take away as many of their professional soldiers as possible."


    "A sound plan, but one that places our people at immense risk." Khanrow reminded me, and we reached my command post, which was the same prefabricated villa as always. Just take it apart, and put it back together at one of four random locations at the new staging area. Until I could get enough Forger mages, so that I can get a command bunker in an instant, it''ll do. That''ll last until I could get a whole flying fortress suited specifically for command and control with a bird''s eye view of the battlefield. "I recommend taking prisoners only after battle. We have superior forces, but¡ª"


    I raised my hand and shook my head.


    "That is what I meant. I won''t risk more lives than I must. We will use artillery and our mages to their fullest extent. We take prisoner those who surrender and who survive, then place them in a deep sleep under strict guard." Something must''ve been lost in translation, like they expected me to have my whole army go non-lethal against the Wardens. These guys are literally murder-machines that run a mach ''fuck you'' and have unbreakable morale thanks to being fanatics. You put some bodysuits on them, cover their faces, look at them fight, and it''s obvious that the game devs watched the new adaptation of a certain book involving a desert planet with giant worms. "Still, I want teams of elite soldiers dedicated to capturing generals and officers. We can''t capture them all, but the more that we do, the less their forces can look to for leadership."


    Khanrow gave a nod that nearly turned into a bow, as we entered the villa. It was finished constructing. The Iterants were quick to get my cloak off and offer me some nice, cool water. Ayah moved on to test the contents, before giving me the glass. Always nice to have a poison-tester outside of the Citadels. The Iterants serving me always glowered at Ayah for doing it, though. Guess they felt it was a shot at their loyalty, even though it was just procedure.


    I finished my drink and Khanrow his, then when moved into the war room to further discuss matters.


    I didn''t expect to sleep much this evening, since even with all our pre-planning and efforts, everything was still going to be crazy.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Conquest


    ¡­


    Ducking beneath a small door, rested after traveling across the skies on the transports, I found myself in a room with three others.


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    Ilych, the Sword of Wisdom, reached my shoulder in height and was covered in more armor than warhorses. The scent of fresh blood clung to her and her ebony armor which radiated a faint ocher luster. Its malicious power was barely obscured by a coat that covered her. On her back was her unnamed blade, almost at tall as her, and incredibly heavy, despite the fact I had seen her throw it whilst infused with power to decapitate an immense creature.


    She looked my way with a narrow and dull gaze, but nodded in my direction in acknowledgement.


    Sitting across her was Rita, whose accolades have long been suppressed, and so she has gone through much effort to remain unknown. Still, paired with Ilych, she gained a few monikers. Wisdom''s Shadow was the most common, though some whispered of her past as another person who once aimed to kill the King of Wisdom. She was lightly armored and valued protecting her limbs with armor, while a coat covered her that seemed to melt with the shadows. At her sides were two daggers, but on her back an ancient bow that smelled of stormwinds, alongside a quiver filled with pure-white arrows forged from the Citadels.


    They were two strong, stalwart warriors that I felt the only honor in standing and fighting beside. The three of us could be a force that ravaged cities and armies without err. A trio of powerful Champions that could scarcely be equaled.


    Against the Sword Saintess Sirena, I could ask for no better companions.


    But there was one another present at the table, leaning on it and pouring over a map, with innumerable curses and hate from the beyond wrapping around her like a warm cloak.


    Morgan.


    "You are beset by innumerable curses, General Morgan."


    "Hm? Those? Ah, I''ve been keeping them about. They''re a good buffer against many forms of miracles that the Wardens like to use. Armor, in a fashion." Bespectacled and wearing a hooded greatcoat, she stood up and gave a bow in return, after I gave one to acknowledge her command. I only raised my head once she gave it. Her hair was short and prim, while her face unscarred and with fine features for those of Descendant nobility. I took note that she wore armor beneath the great-coat now. A full suit of light armor composed of Citadel alloy plates on a black bodysuit of thick fabric that I was unfamiliar with. "It''s an Ancient security force suit. Allows magic to be channeled, while protecting against flame, frost, electricity, heat, and more. Hard to bite through and slice through, and the plates provide more robust protection. It took quite the sum to get. Months of saving, really, but it''s worth it."


    "I hope that it serves you well in the coming battles." My earliest memory of her was her interrogating me after speaking to my troops. She stood behind the King of Wisdom, ascertaining his measure, while he spoke to me. Back then, she was like a monster constrained in the form of a Descendant. I thought that she was a Champion of immense power meant to cow us into submission, or perhaps she was the true leader of the nation of the Descendants, while the King of Wisdom was a puppet. Now, though, I realized that the truth was far more terrifying. "What is our aim in the coming campaign?"


    Morgan''s smile was filled with teeth and wide, reminding me more of a monster''s smile while the rest of it was hidden in the darkness.


    "Regicide." The word left her lips like the purr of a great predator pleased with the task given to it by its master. My lieutenant stirred beside me, but I glanced his way and he went still. In the small room of the command villa, I took a seat across Morgan. My lieutenant joined the others sitting near the walls listening to our new directive. Our new directive is spoken by a storm in the shape of a mortal. One that would reshape the world according to the whims of the King of Wisdom. "The death of High Justiciar Khalai of the Wardens of the Caverns to be precise."


    The leader of the Wardens came to mind.


    Beyond the form of a mere young man that constantly p-propositioned the King of Wisdom and led the Wardens, there was something more.


    A being enrobed in miracles, that radiated light that was blinding to the senses, and who came with the scent of flame. The Warden''s great leader was a Champion of immense power, guarded by the Sword Saint, and the elites of fiercest fighters on the continent. When the Wardens fought, they became living weapons that ignored all pain, fear, and hate. They were nothing more than bodies meant to kill their opponents, uncaring of their own lives, and with hundreds of lives and deaths granting them experience and skill beyond measure.


    "We are mighty, but this group is insufficient." I told them the truth of the matter as I saw it. We will have to travel incessantly through enemy lands, intercept the High Justiciar before he reached his Citadel, while he was under heavy guard protecting the Divine Spirit created by the Ancients. He travels with his whole army, in his territory, and we do not control the skies, yet. I looked at the map and my fears were confirmed. It traced where High Justiciar Khalai met with the remains of his expedition outward to the rest of the world, which was on the very corners of our realm. Our spies contacted us, we moved, and two weeks passed, and the High Justiciar was already halfway to his Citadel. He will only be a week away from his Citadel. We were fortunate that the Forgers withheld sharing their brood of Transports with their alliance. "Unless the whole realm is in complete turmoil, he can even receive aid from his own Citadel."


    "Ah, but the whole realm is in complete chaos, Conquest. After all this time, you shall be brought into the fold completely." Morgan''s too-wide smile seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. She glanced over her shoulder, at a serving woman in a black dress and white apron, and lashed out at her. I stood and tried to intercept the blow, instead I found myself shocked as the seemingly normal servant avoided the blow with utmost ease. Suddenly, standing in the meeting room, I became aware of the dozens of servants present who I disregarded. The way it moved was too swift and too different. Machine-like. "Behold, our finest, hidden warriors and our greatest spies courtesy of the Ancients. Tens of thousands of them are across the land, and they are growing in number quite rapidly. The Iterants."


    Father had suspected some form of trickery, but not of this scale and magnitude.


    "The King of Wisdom has a knife at the throat of every nation here. Why not attack?" I questioned after a moment, and Morgan smiled¡­ an honest smile.


    It was as though I repeated a question that she asked herself, and was given the perfect answer.


    "Because our aim is not wars of destruction, Conquest, but to take everything and use it against the rest of the world coming to kill us."


    Those words were enough.


    In my sudden bout of fear and concern, I forgot a simple fact.


    The King of Wisdom led us, and he looked not at the next battle, nor at the next war, but at the only war that mattered.


    The war for survival that we would have against the rest of the world.


    We had need of the enemy''s strength, and their corpses will do us little good.

 V9: Chapter 13

    V9: Chapter 13


    ¡­


    At the start of the game, you can generally move armies to other regions in four or so turns. The war against the Children of the Elm involved a ¡®quick¡¯ march to their new Citadel. That march meant crossing the lands that the Conquerors were taking at the time, too.  So, we crossed half of our home region, the full breadth of the Conqueror¡¯s region, and then then half of the Children of the Elm¡¯s lands to reach their Citadel. That took a full year of campaigning to achieve, and most of that was traveling, and going through the events that popped up during our travels.


    Now?


    Now, I can expect to get an army assembled anywhere in my territory, which was half the continent, in two months. In four months, I can get every army that I have at my disposal in one place, while militia and Guardians took up their regular duties. That¡¯s four full armies of ten thousand men each, with twice their number to form the necessary logistical trail. Some would say it¡¯s crazy that I have two people in the army that don¡¯t fight for every one that does, but I think it¡¯s a miracle.


    Rations and supplies need to be given out and taken stock of. Bases needed to stay clean. Food needed to be cooked. Armor and weapons needed to be maintained. Doctors and physicians are needed to keep the troops from getting sick. Horses need to be fed. Latrines needed to get dug. Waste must get processed. Orders need to get relayed all the way from me to the lowliest private. Stipends needed to get issued for people to buy creature comforts from the post exchange stores. People needed to get their mail moved through the system and receive what¡¯s sent to them from their families.


    I¡¯m sure without Iterants, it wouldn¡¯t be possible to have such a small logistical tail for my troops, but there was still a problem.


    My forces still couldn¡¯t move as fast as I liked.


    Back in my world, the US could get two thousand troops anywhere in the world within 24 hours. In another 24, it¡¯ll be bolstered by another two thousand, and in another 48 another two thousand to form up a whole brigade. That brigade will hold until the rest of the US can stream in reinforcements, and in a month, you¡¯ll have a whole army on your doorstep ready to kick your teeth in. From what little I recalled from my errant video binging, it was achieved through air power, having troops on standby, and having everything packed up and ready to go to be shipped out.


    I¡¯d kill to have those timetables.


    But I didn¡¯t have them.


    However, with very expensive improvements to the transports and well-trained crews, it was possible to get five hundred people somewhere else very quickly.


    Or, rather, a handful of Champions and a lot of Iterants.


    Quality will just have to win the day.


    Along with a lot of explosives.


    ¡­


    Interlude: Rita


    ¡­


    The transports took off with frightening silence. All other transports were blocky constructs pulled by horses. They levitated using magic and were pulled upward by the combined work of mages and drivers. They were such a common method of transport in our lord¡¯s lands that most could sleep while in flight, and awaken in another region without any concern for their safety. There were also two spare mages in the box itself, ready to cast magics to slow its descent to safety, no matter what happened in the air.


    I doubted that those would be needed with the ones we entered.


    ¡°These gliders are truly remarkable. They¡¯re almost twice as fast, and are also far more efficient.¡± Morgan spoke while next to a window. The hull of the glider was Citadel alloy, but incredibly thin. There was no floor. We stood upright and held onto straps with all our gear. Outside the long and wide wings of the craft sliced through the air, greatly lessening the amount of power the mages needed to use to keep it up. Any excess power was used on the ¡®engine.¡¯ At tail of the craft was a large block upon which many glyphs and arcane sigils were impressed upon. It propelled the craft forward through the air, as they did in the dozens for the flying castles we were carefully building. ¡°It¡¯s too bad we can¡¯t mass-produce them.¡±


    ¡°His majesty would rather these materials be used to create more mobile strongpoints.¡± Eight of these gliders were constructed. The arcane wind pusher at the tail did not have enough power to have it fly. Like regular transports, it needs to be pulled upward and granted speed. Once high in the air, the mages in the back could propel the craft. This entire flight were prototypes that were deemed failures. Everything involved in their creation and utilization was better used for the flying fortresses we were building. The only advantage that they held was speed. ¡°But I believe that he can be convinced to have a few on hand.¡±


    The Citadel Alloys produced could be spent on armor plates to better resist magics. Each engine for each glider was an engine not for the slow, lumbering behemoths that would aid in holding the line against our future foes. Every single mage powering the engine was one that wasn¡¯t on artillery duty or moving thousands of troops instead of fifty.


    ¡°We¡¯ll probably crack regular flight without magic while we¡¯re building the first fifty of these things. Best to not.¡± Morgan¡¯s response was glib, betraying her cheer, and she turned over to Conquest and Ilych. They stood opposite one another, hanging onto straps from the ceiling, in complete silence as we flew to our destination. ¡°Anyone want to take that bet? Who thinks we¡¯ll manage to make fully mechanized flight before the year is over?¡±


    Surprisingly, Ilych answered.


    ¡°If the train engine can be made smaller and lighter, a mechanical fan can be used to push air back. Then, it¡¯s simply a matter of making light enough vessels.¡± Morgan gave a nod at Ilych¡¯s words. Perhaps, she was checking if Ilych was truly adhering to her studies. She needn¡¯t have checked. Ilych¡¯s discipline is without question. Only time was an impediment in her acquisition of knowledge. We simply didn¡¯t have much to spare. ¡°Magic will still need to be used to control the flight.¡±


    Conquest spoke up at that statement.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    ¡°Nay, we¡¯ve tested gliders of our own. Not of this size, but with warriors capable of manipulating wind. You can change your path in the air with a rudder and shifting wings to capture the wind. The same can be done here.¡± Conquest pointed at the wings and the tail section with her chin. She was more thoughtful after the revelation that she received. Brought into the inner circle, given the truth of our lord¡¯s reach, she was humbled. ¡°The scholars will be able to determine the best course of action, though the Ancients may have left something in their histories that could guide us.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure his majesty already figured this all out, but I¡¯ll be happy to bring it up. I¡¯ll give you both credit, of course.¡± Morgan took the leadership role of our operation without being questioned. Though she was a more recent addition to our forces than myself or Ilych, I had no reason to doubt her appointment. Not only was she talented and skilled, but she was also given the right by our king himself. Perhaps, if Khanrow nominated her and her position was granted thereafter, I would question the matter. But such was not the case. ¡°So, I¡¯m guessing no one will take the bet?¡±


    Silence answered Morgan, but a moment after, the two keeping track of our progress and flight at the front of the glider spoke.


    ¡°The recon force has returned. They¡¯ve located the ongoing battle. We¡¯re dropping in.¡± The words resonated through the craft. Those at the front of the craft interacted with signals with those on flying horseback. We were accompanied by elites. The very best riders and aerial light cavalry we could bring along. While we flew in gliders, safe from the frost and wind, they rode with their steeds¡­ knowing that this will most likely be their last flights. ¡°Descending¡­ now.¡±


    My grip on the handle tightened, while stomach felt like it rose up into my chest, as the glider aimed downward and began its descent.


    From the front window, I saw the battlefield.


    The Wardens accepted people freely throughout their lands. All who followed their faith or wished to become citizenry were accepted. They believed that their faith and way of living would convert any who lived in their lands. His majesty agreed with this, reasoning that they kept their people happy and content while making sure those in power were of their faith, thus he only sent in Iterants. Iterants eager to prove themselves to him, and willing to do anything for his favor, for he gave them the chance to redeem themselves.


    Though we seeded Iterants across the lands, it was in the Warden lands that we laid the groundwork for Iterants to showcase their fullest strength. Thousands of Iterants were throughout their lands. Many were farmers and laborers. Others were factory workers. Those in higher positions replaced individuals after months of study, slipping into their roles seamlessly, and many others joined the lower ranks of their local militia.


    When the drums of war cried out, when they received their messages to converge or to wreak havoc, they acted.


    Now, in their own homeland, the Wardens were defending their king against a dedicated force of Iterants after their journey was slowed time and time again.


    I doubted any others could see, but I could see the carnage the Iterants wrought.


    Citadel Guardians were machines. They launched themselves at the enemy like a storm of knives. Their main strength lay in the fear they produced. Few soldiers can act properly when a Guardian gallops at them at full speed with limbs ready to rip and tear, especially when they numbered in the hundreds. However, that can be surmounted with training. Good enough armor, strong enough shields, and discipline can stem their advance, while magic or firepower ravaged their ranks and destroyed them. Military exercises against Guardians showcased that we could fight against them. The attrition rate would be high, but it was undoubtedly possible to do so.


    But if we had a front line of Iterants, the dynamic changed.


    Having a single Citadel capable of producing Guardians, it was natural that the Wardens invigorated by their forces with the bone-white, skittering creatures. Under normal conditions, having those shock-troops with strong armor and weapons would be enough to ensure safe passage through their own lands.


    However, Iterants had armor that Guardians couldn¡¯t cut through, and Iterants could tear their limbs off and use them as weapons.


    So, on the field below, there was carnage. Guardians lay strewn about in broken heaps with their sharp libs taken off their bodies and torsos smashed. Iterants were brawling in a frenzy amidst ranks and ranks of Wardens, whose vaunted speed and skill were barely holding against the Ancient¡¯s hidden weapon.


    With disguises shed, they chose the form of two-meter-tall, spindly, long-limbed, and faceless puppets composed of nigh-unbreakable material.


    One punch from an Iterant went through the chest of a Warden, and it threw the body back cut in twain.


    An Iterant withstood the cutting blow of a Warden before taking hold of the mortal and crushing them in an embrace.


    Wardens swarmed one holding its limbs fast, and going at it was maces and hammers, and they brought it down with sheer numbers. The Iterant changed its shape, becoming a cell that captured those holding it down, and it shrank. It emerged covered in blood and entrails that sloughed off its form.


    The Warden line was breaking after their Guardians were expended, and their backline of healers could not revive the bodies tossed so far back, while their mages were not numerous enough to kill them.


    It was just as his majesty foretold.


    The Wardens only had one answer to the Iterants.


    Sirena.


    ¡°You found her?¡± Morgan spoke, and I nodded. ¡°Mark her.¡±


    I moved towards the door of the descending glider, clipping the safety belt to a railing near the door, which Morgan opened.


    The wind whipped past the open door, but it was of little consequence once I strengthened by body and focused on making my shot.


    Sirena was there, the anchor of the Wardens, and she was surrounded by destroyed Iterants. Her fathom-long blade cut through their armor like paper, the few that managed to reach her could only scratch her skin, and those scratches healed before blood spilled. Around her was a patch of untouched earth, but surrounding her were broken piles and cut bodies of Iterants. Even with so many dead by her hand, on her dark-brown skin, there was only the faintest a hint of tiredness in the form of a few beads of sweat. The Saintess was also aglow with holy light and driven by purpose, even with all the death that surrounded her, she did not falter. Even if the whole army of the Wardens died here, Sirena destroying them all and keeping the mages, priests, and Khalai alive would make this a Warden victory.


    All the Iterants here were only meant to delay Khalai and Sirena from bringing the Goddess that they found to their Citadel.


    No.


    That would be an understatement.


    They were also meant to kill the army that supported them.


    The world went small and dark, and there was only Sirena and the arrow that I nocked.


    Memories of the Saintess came forward.


    The times we fought together, the support she gave us, and her glances upon his majesty in hopes of wedding him to secure an alliance for her people.


    I had no doubt that she was good at heart and sound of temperament.


    His majesty agreed, but he did not hesitate to give the order.


    ¡°Sirena and Khalai both need to be captured or killed. You, Ilych, Conquest, and Morgan will make this happen after we expend their strength using Iterants.¡±


    His words resounded in my mind as I let the arrow loose and it shot forward, already breaking apart after I filled it with power, and sent it flying towards a woman I once called an ally.


    ¡°Fight and kill them with everything that you have. Do not dishonor them by letting your feelings get in the way.¡±


    It landed at her feet, she traced its path, and her eyes widened as in the glare of the sun she caught sight of us diving towards her and those under her protection.


    ¡°This is my command. The Wardens and their plans to see us all fed to their Paradise must end today.¡±


    My eyes met hers, and instead of shock, her eyes grew steely with determination¡­ and I met it with my own.


    ¡°This is an order from your king. Do you understand?¡±


    The arrow exploded into a pillar of flame too weak to harm her, but tall and bright enough for all the riders carrying bombs to know their target.


    My answer returned to my lips as I watched the destruction begin to unfold.


    ¡°I hear and I obey, your majesty.¡±


    Today, I end the lives of my once-allies and I do it without a hint of doubt in my heart.


    He willed it.


    It shall be so.

 V9: Chapter 14

    V9: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    Additional Words for Monthly Chapter commissioned by Chaosbrain


    Additional Wordcount: 2000


    ¡­


    Interlude: Sirena


    ¡­


    Rita¡¯s arrow connected with my blade. With both hands, with my blade imbued with power and might, I am capable of striking bolts from ballistae without fear. However, Rita¡¯s arrow was perfected to slay Champions. The magics infused in it were breaking it apart, cracking its form, while I tried to toss it upward and away from myself and others. With a sound akin to metal cracking in twain, the bolt came apart into many pieces and the power it held exploded outward as pure-white flame.


    I held out my hand and with blessings and miracles, contained the plume and directed it upward, but still I was harmed and my hand was nearly burned to the bone.


    Thankfully, some flesh remained, and I healed myself as the newest transports of the King of Wisdom arrived from above. Unlike the boxy containers that were typically used, these secret weapons had smooth surfaces for wind to glide over and lift, their shapes were like those of birds as they glided on gusts of wind, and it was easy to tell that they could carry more troops and soldiers than the original transports.


    But there was hardly any time to fret about such a thing.


    ¡°Archers! Prepare for aerial attack!¡± On black steeds, the King of Wisdom¡¯s elite soldiers dove at us with the sun at their back. A common, but effective tactic, but far more lethal against us. The Wardens of the Caverns were blessed with sight in the darkness, but that made our gazes all the more sensitive to the light. The archers moved swiftly, they knew they were the only defense against the aerial forces of the King of Wisdom, and they shot at the oncoming force. ¡°Brace yourselves!¡±


    If they were fighting against the sky-knights of yore, they would perhaps have been able to have given their lives for more, but such was not the case. The new sky-riders of the King of Wisdom did not crash into the enemy wreathed with magic whilst covered in armor. Instead, they unleashed death while beyond the reach of normal soldiers, typically in the form of fire.


    I was ready to counter flames, but I made a critical error.


    Instead of flame, the attack that came from the heavens unleashed upon us a green, viscous fluid that swiftly began to fizzle and turn into fog.


    A fog that began to melt metal and skin.


    None screamed at the attack, as the miracles and blessings given to us reformed our skin even faster than it could be consumed, but that was not the end. Another attack came and this time unleashed a pale gas¡­ and I recalled with fear the rumors of a poison being used in the Ancient tunnels against the monsters that headed the call of the Death Lord. I acted on instinct, and called upon the winds to carry away the fog from the battlefield, while I felt Khalai¡¯s miracle wash over us to protect us from disease and poison.


    The miracle did away with the green fog, but it did not repair the metal that had been consumed.


    The King of Wisdom always worked to weaken his foes before he struck with all his might.


    And, just as I expected, the next wave of attackers unleashed fire upon us. The bombs burst in the air, and scattered a thick, vicious black substance that caught alight with frightening speed and burned a bright orange. In but a few moments, the bombs scattered all over our position, and I moved swiftly to counter it with the High Justiciar¡¯s aid.


    We¡¯ve seen the attack before, and knowing its efficacy, we planned against it.


    I and everyone else skilled with the blade cut through the flesh upon which the flame stuck, while priests rapidly healed the damage. It was gruesome, terrible work, but I did it swiftly to whoever was close and my own body. We instructed as many as possible to shield their heads, and to cast off helmets if the flame stuck, and it worked to great effect. None burned to death thanks to our strategy¡­ but it cost us time.


    Time that we could¡¯ve used to prepare against the force against us.


    Pure-white figures, the same creatures that assaulted us and waylaid our path since we found the Goddess of Death, slammed into the ground around us. Humanoid in shape, unlike the Guardians, they were fierce and terrible opponents. Unlike the monstrous Citadel Guardians, only capable of attacking the enemy, these ones worked together, learned from their mistakes, and prioritized targets.


    I readied myself to slice through their upper chests, where their hearts lay, but a familiar sound reached me.


    The sound of a massive blade being drawn.


    I barely manage to raise my blade and divert the Sword of Wisdom¡¯s attack to the side, and when her sword connected with the ground, the blooded earth erupted upward like a plume of water rather than soil. Then, in an instant, my instincts told me to leap back and I did. Where my heart was a moment before, I saw an arrow pass, and then I heard Conquest¡¯s roar.


    I managed to dodge the lightning bolts that surged from the sky to strike me down¡­ and then I felt two knives enter my back and through my lungs.


    Morgan slunk away, an obscuring cloud of smoke hiding her instantly, as I felt poison course through me from my lungs.


    This was it.


    Conquest, Ilych, Rita, and Morgan were all arrayed against me. I could see the other creatures they dropped onto the field ravaging our soldiers with speed and precision typical only of truly elite troops. Our people were being torn apart, shredded by bladed limbs, and thrown away far from the reach of our priests. Poisoned daggers were in my chest through my back, while four individuals I could consider peers bore down upon me.


    This was the moment where gave my life for my people.


    If I could bring these four low, if we can hold their lives hostage with the offer of resurrection, we could end this war in an instant.


    All I had to do was swing my sword.


    I emptied my mind, closed my eyes, and focused inward. I broke down the seconds, finding my place between heartbeats, and dulled all my senses. Darkness ruled me, while I ignored the pain, agony, the deaths of my fellow warriors, and all other concerns.


    There were only four targets.


    Conquest.


    Rita.


    Ilych.


    Morgan.


    In the darkness that was my world, they were bright outlines. Their souls gleaming gems in an abyssal sea. Gems of immense might and power that contained unwavering souls filled with dedication to the King of Wisdom. Warriors that dedicated their lives to a singular cause and so were undoubtably fit for Paradise a thousand times over.


    Today they would meet their end.


    I raised my blade with both hands, filled my body with power, and abandoned my own life. An arrow tore through my heart, lightning struck me, and more poisoned knives found their way into my vitals. My neck, my head, my innards, and all were filled with blades coated in poison.


    But I already abandoned my body.


    It was just a vessel, while I was within my blade.


    When they awakened me, they thought that I was called the Saintess of Swords.


    They were incorrect.


    I am the Sword Saint.


    My flesh was my prior vessel, while the sword was my true self.


    And, so, I swung myself at them, expending all that I had.


    In my mind¡¯s eye, I saw my strikes land. Faster than they could react to. Faster than they could see. Nothing more than a flash of light glinting off my body, then they are cut.


    I saw Morgan swiftly retreat and lose only an arm.


    I saw Rita try to leap above the strike, only to be cut in twain, as I predicted her leap.


    I saw Conquest¡¯s heart and skull pierced with the tip of my blade, and swift rotation upon withdrawal turning both organs into naught but eviscerated flesh.


    But that was only my mind¡¯s eye.


    I had to surmount their guardian.


    Ilych, the Sword of Wisdom, who placed herself before me with eyes unclouded by fear and a calm heart.


    Her life-consuming blade weathered a hundred cuts and thrusts without breaking, but her skill was lacking. I caught its hilt on my back and pulled it out of her grasp with strength she could not hope to match. However, instead of running after her weapon, she took the weapons at her hips and fired at me. The two revolvers sped towards my former my vessel, the anchor that I used as leverage to wield my true self, and the twelve bullets had to be cut apart. She moved to reload them, but I cut them apart out of her hands.


    Then, I aimed to kill her.


    She surged forward, away from the tip of my sword, and into the range of my blade proper.


    I thought that I could cut through her.


    I was wrong.


    I felt the parting of flesh across my body, I felt the rending of armor and metal, and the overcoming of enchantment. I went through her shoulder, carved into her lung, tore through her heart, and then left through her side to cut through her liver in one single motion. One blow amongst dozens went across her body, one after another, I kept striking and breaking through flesh and armor whilst spraying blood and flesh in every direction.


    But she kept advancing.


    I understood that she was healing herself, that the armor was feasting upon her blood and assisting in her effort by knitting together her and bone with tendrils of metal. With every blow, I was cutting through more and more metal instead of flesh. Interlaced strands of metal faced me, instead of plates of black armor, like a mass of metal vines covering a towering Descendant¡¯s form. I kept cutting through them, until suddenly¡­ there was resistance.


    I kept striking.


    She took one step.


    I kept cutting.


    Another step.


    I searched for lethal points¡­ but with every passing moment they ceased to be.


    Then, finally, a third step.


    The Sword of Wisdom reached me, a body kept together by healing magic and cursed, writhing armor embedded into flesh and bone, and she took hold of my vessel and caught it in her arms.


    Trapping my anchor¡¯s limbs in place as a living, unbreakable vice.


    In moments, Conquest, Rita, and Morgan were upon my anchor and cutting it apart and breaking my connection to it. They crushed bone, turned innards to pulp, and set it aflame.


    Leaving me within my true self, held by the Sword of Wisdom, while the three moved on to kill my liege.


    I was defeated, and I watched as the innumerable, writhing mass of metal retreated and turned into rudimentary plate. I watched as bone healed, as flesh returned, and skin formed upon the Sword of Wisdom, until Ilych returned¡­ haggard, gaunt, and pale from sheer expenditure.


    Then, she looked at me, as I truly was, and spoke.


    ¡°Well fought, Sirena.¡±


    At those words, I understood my mistake.


    I thought I faced a normal mortal.


    Not someone who only saw their mortal form as a vessel, as I did.


    ¡­


    ¡°What a mess.¡± I sent in close to five hundred Iterants and only three hundred came back. They could double in a few months, sure, but they still needed time to learn and train. Then, there¡¯s all the Iterants we placed in the Wardens¡¯ lands. Most of them were planning to support the replacement leader that we were setting up, gathering intelligence from towns, and generally doing clandestine work. It was our biggest espionage project and investment, with over two thousand spread across the region. Over half were now dead, since they had to slow Khalai down. ¡°Make sure that all the bodies are accounted for. Within reason, of course. Make sure that their progeny is informed and they receive our gratitude.¡±


    Iterants say that they didn¡¯t have any connection to the Iterants that they produce, but we kept track just in case and gave them the same benefits as soldiers who died in battle. Also, their names were recorded in memorials beneath the Citadels. Not open to the public, since they were a secret, but that was going to change soon. I¡¯ll have them placed next to the proper memorials in a month or two.


    People were going to put two and two together.


    ¡°Any luck hunting down the survivors?¡±


    ¡°All leads have been followed and we¡¯ve given chase. Many have been hunted down, but some were fortunate and commandeered horses from local villages. The villages had militia that slowed us down.¡± That meant that by my order, some villages were probably destroyed, but I had to try and keep the Iterants unknown. There were plenty of them out there in other nations. Now, I was sure that they had to be recalled, otherwise I¡¯m going to lose a lot of skilled people for no reason. This was really a shitshow. ¡°Your majesty?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve done the best we could with the time we had and the people we had on site. I only wish that we could¡¯ve done better and lost less lives.¡± Ayah gave a nod at my words, while we surveyed the battlefield. It was like a carpet of torn off limbs and bodies across a hilltop. Khalai and his people took the top of a hill on a nearby road and tried to repel the latest Iterant attack on their caravan. After multiple attacks from the moment they found the Death Goddess, the Wardens abandoned their all-offense tactics in favor of defense. Unfortunately, during the last ambush, the Warden¡¯s main force was hit by five hundred more Iterants and four Champions. Khalai and Sirena, an army that¡¯s been harried for weeks on end, against four hyper-specialized Champions and a fresh batch of troops. The outcome was predictable. ¡°Make sure that we have as many torsos with us as possible. Keep them frozen and stored away before we bury them. If they start breaking apart, make note of it. That probably means that they¡¯ve been resurrected.¡±


    You need a sizeable chunk of a person to revive them. The whole body with many wounds was preferred, as it¡¯s just calling back the soul and restarting the body after fixing it up with magic. However, with a lot of magical power and reagents, you can rebuild a person¡¯s body with magic from a sizeable chunk. The Warden¡¯s cathedrals of resurrection massively decreased the cost. In the flavor text, the Tier 1 version of the faction wonder could revive people from just a hand. My goal was to try and deny that by gathering up parts and pieces and storing them away.


    It probably wasn¡¯t going to work, but it was worth a shot.


    There weren¡¯t many prisoners.


    Khalai was though, and only because Morgan managed to bind him up and heal him after he tried to off himself to respawn.


    Dude was metal as fuck.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to try and retake him.¡± I walked over to the makeshift runway. The gliders were in alright shape, but alright shape for a flying vessel wasn¡¯t something I was willing to take a chance with. We were all going to board normal transports on the way back, while the gliders were going to be towed back without any passengers. Just a mage and a pilot with some parachutes. ¡°And, I don¡¯t think the coma strategy is going to work. He¡¯s resisted everything we¡¯ve thrown at him.¡±


    Ayah followed me as we got to the makeshift camp. It was all Iterants and they were fixing themselves up using parts and pieces from those who fell in battle. Cores were put aside and gingerly stored away, but the rest of the body they didn¡¯t bother caring about.


    ¡°Lady Morgan has suggested severing his spinal cord at the neck down. The body will persist and nourish the brain as he does.¡±


    ¡°May as well just restrain him completely¡­ but in all honesty, we could use him. He¡¯s the entire reason that the Wardens have managed to get this far.¡± The Wardens are the last ones to get a Citadel. Under my protection, they only developed one army and got one Champion online. Only after the Death Lord¡¯s demise, and their joining of the alliance against me, did they start investing in their own military¡­ but that came in the form of Citadel Guardians. Their troops didn¡¯t receive enough veterancy, they didn¡¯t have enough industrial output, and overall ended up weaker because of my protection. A few wars would¡¯ve fixed that, especially with the Death Goddess, but I intervened before it happened. ¡°But we¡¯ll see how he feels about that.¡±


    We reached the containment area for the Wardens, and I received a lot of harsh looks and yelling from all the people in chains that we captured, but my interest was the transport block right in the middle.


    Khalai was bound up and restrained in a chair. Everything from the waist down was strapped up in a medical chair made by the Citadel. It was a medical device that allowed patients whose bodies needed to be kept still to stay mobile with their thoughts alone. We removed that functionality, but kept the padding and its ability to deal with defecation and urination.


    ¡°Hey there, Jackie. Time to make use of your new toy?¡± Khalai¡¯s words were as flirty as ever, but his eyes told the real story. Plain, simple fury filled his gaze. Without a doubt, in his head, there was no negotiation to be had. Only a way for him to get out of this and return to his position as High Justiciar. His zeal was unbroken¡­ and I doubted if it could ever break. As different as the Dark Elves were in this world, they were still family to the regular, genocidal long-term planners that were the regular Elves. ¡°I promise that I¡¯ll be good, as long as you treat my people well.¡±


    Instantly, he offered himself as a hostage and as a plaything without any hint of shame.


    Some would call him out as weak for doing so, but we both knew the score.


    If you win, what you do doesn¡¯t matter.


    Yeah, there¡¯s no way I¡¯m getting him on my side, and putting him to sleep wasn¡¯t working¡­ so, I had to get creative.


    But I was going to make him an offer first.


    ¡°I intend to make you an offer, but first I¡¯ll tell you what I plan on doing to you if you refuse.¡±


    Normally, Khalai would say something along the lines of ¡®kinky¡¯ but he could tell that I was serious.


    ¡°I will house you in a sensory deprivation chamber within the Citadel. In there you will be restrained and unable to move. Food will come through to you on a small pipe to your arm. We¡¯ll gag you to make sure you can¡¯t bite down. In that chamber, there will be no sound, no sensation, and no light. You will be alone and isolated completely.¡± This was super, extremely fucked up. I shared meals and drinks with this guy. If not for our circumstances, with my inevitable fight against him looming, I would¡¯ve called him friend. I still remembered when I went to them to help them from being blitzed by the other established factions. However, in the end, I knew that was going to be the only possibility. ¡°You¡¯re strong, Khalai, but with the passing of years, you¡¯ll lose yourself¡­ and even if you hold on, it won¡¯t matter in a few years.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know that for sure, but as capable and strong as Khalai is, I doubted he could withstand absolute nothingness for years and years without breaking.


    Anyway, Khalai picked up on what I was implying with the ¡®few years¡¯ comment.


    I basically told him how I was going to get away with taking the Death Goddess without the rest of the continent pouncing on me.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to let my people be slaughtered.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Between the option of facing my nation and my Iterants for the Death Goddess, or taking the Citadel now without a leader, the choice is obvious.¡± The best outcome would be if I took the Death Goddess and the Warden Citadel. However, that wasn¡¯t possible without immense losses. Even with Citadel Guardians swarming my borders, I couldn¡¯t afford to lose my armies. They were defensive in nature. You can¡¯t force policies of other nations to change with defenses. ¡°I¡¯ll tell them your tactics, your secrets, and remove my Iterants from their lands, while giving them your Citadel to appease them.¡±


    ¡°They will not be satisfied by one Citadel.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll take them at least two years to take your lands with the armies that they have now, even if they all work together. They won¡¯t. I think that Celia will swoop in and take it all, while the Merchants play the Forgers like a fiddle.¡± Khalai¡¯s gaze was steady and unwavering as I told him the truth of the situation. Or, at the very least, the truth as I could get it with the information that I had. Plenty of conjecture, but this wasn¡¯t entirely about facts. I¡¯m trying to persuade Khalai to not be a zealot and work with me. ¡°They¡¯ll redirect their attention to me after¡­ but that won¡¯t matter. The foes of our ancestors will be here by then. That¡¯s when I want your help. Not as the High Justiciar of the Wardens, but you, Khalai, as a person working for the betterment of as many people as possible.¡±


    ¡°After you give away my Citadel and have my followers killed.¡± Khalai¡¯s voice was calm, but I could hear the zealous rage simmering in the very back of his throat. Beneath the cute mask, there is and has always been a zealot who would¡¯ve launched a crusade at the living to bring them all into paradise. ¡°Perhaps, I would consider it if you aid my people and see them retain the Citadel.¡±


    My answer to that was already set.


    ¡°No. I know you, Khalai, and I know your people. I¡¯ve known all along from the moment you rose from your caverns and seized your Citadel.¡± I took a step forward towards him, making sure to meet his gaze, as he sat strapped to a chair. There was no need to lean over and be all imposing. I just stood across him and met his gaze with arms crossed. ¡°There was only one path forward for your people, after you realized the gravity of the situation, and after you completed another Cathedral of Resurrection and expanded your vision of Paradise. Past the plains where the recently deceased lay, past the forests, but before the crystal spires where legends await the call.¡±


    Suddenly, through all the fury in Khalai¡¯s gaze, a spark of surprise came through and a sharp exhale left his lips.


    The Wardens never wrote down what paradise looked like.


    But I knew.


    ¡°It is not solely a place for Wardens. It is for all mortals and peoples that come from the Ancients. The Ancients, when all their enemies came for them, opened paradise for every soul¡­ to save everyone.¡± This was it. The core of the Warden¡¯s ethos later in the game. They accepted no other religion now, moving to convert everyone to theirs by making them family or just carnal relations¡­ the knowledge I shared now led to their change. The change from people who converted others to those who¡¯ll just kill and send people to paradise. ¡°Tell me, Khalai, in this world filled horrific foes and old grudges, what would you have your people do knowing that all who are slain go to paradise without exemption?¡±


    I had to give him credit.


    Khalai didn¡¯t hesitate to answer.


    ¡°I would have my people take on the sin and send all the paradise to save everyone.¡± Ayah and the Iterants all stepped back at the words, at the simple, unhesitant, and unrepentant admission, and suddenly Morgan stepped out of the shadows with eyes filled with anger. I raised my hand before she could do anything. Khalai¡¯s eyes changed as he considered and ingested the idea, and it flowed over him and wreathed him in ecstasy and joy. ¡°I see! Of course! Paradise would be granted to all by the Ancients if all our souls were at risk! We simply cannot see the souls of others, because we¡¯ve only searched for ourselves and never with temples that we needed! Yes!¡±


    It was validation.


    No, it was something stronger.


    Vindication.


    In their eyes, it wasn¡¯t that they were just right all this time, but that they were always undoubtably and irrefutably correct through the Ancients.


    Khalai¡¯s eyes shone at me with trust and joy, lacking in any fury whatsoever, and his smile nearly stretched from ear to ear with pearly white teeth.


    Yet, with those same ecstatic eyes and smile, he¡¯d carve my heart out without hesitation.


    All to save me¡­ and he didn¡¯t even have a shred of evidence that I wasn¡¯t lying to him.


    I¡¯ve seen enough.


    I acted before he could speak.


    ¡°Gag him and prepare to inter him.¡± I doubted it would work now. I shouldn¡¯t have asked, even if it validated my own decision to take the path that I did against the Wardens. ¡°This knowledge doesn¡¯t leave this room if this truth is known to all the Wardens¡­ there¡¯s only one path we can take with them and their faith.¡±


    The Iterants nodded, while Morgan glared at Khalai.


    I took a moment to place a hand on her shoulder and take advantage of that strong reaction against the Wardens¡¯ endgame.


    ¡°All their texts and all their temples must burn during this war. That¡¯s your first, true mission as general, Morgan.¡±


    If a religion goes crazy, who better to sic on them than the Demon Lord?


    V9: Chapter 14


    ¡­


    Additional Words for Monthly Chapter commissioned by Chaosbrain


    Additional Wordcount: 2000


    ¡­


    Interlude: Sirena


    ¡­


    Rita¡¯s arrow connected with my blade. With both hands, with my blade imbued with power and might, I am capable of striking bolts from ballistae without fear. However, Rita¡¯s arrow was perfected to slay Champions. The magics infused in it were breaking it apart, cracking its form, while I tried to toss it upward and away from myself and others. With a sound akin to metal cracking in twain, the bolt came apart into many pieces and the power it held exploded outward as pure-white flame.


    I held out my hand and with blessings and miracles, contained the plume and directed it upward, but still I was harmed and my hand was nearly burned to the bone.


    Thankfully, some flesh remained, and I healed myself as the newest transports of the King of Wisdom arrived from above. Unlike the boxy containers that were typically used, these secret weapons had smooth surfaces for wind to glide over and lift, their shapes were like those of birds as they glided on gusts of wind, and it was easy to tell that they could carry more troops and soldiers than the original transports.


    But there was hardly any time to fret about such a thing.


    ¡°Archers! Prepare for aerial attack!¡± On black steeds, the King of Wisdom¡¯s elite soldiers dove at us with the sun at their back. A common, but effective tactic, but far more lethal against us. The Wardens of the Caverns were blessed with sight in the darkness, but that made our gazes all the more sensitive to the light. The archers moved swiftly, they knew they were the only defense against the aerial forces of the King of Wisdom, and they shot at the oncoming force. ¡°Brace yourselves!¡±


    If they were fighting against the sky-knights of yore, they would perhaps have been able to have given their lives for more, but such was not the case. The new sky-riders of the King of Wisdom did not crash into the enemy wreathed with magic whilst covered in armor. Instead, they unleashed death while beyond the reach of normal soldiers, typically in the form of fire.


    I was ready to counter flames, but I made a critical error.


    Instead of flame, the attack that came from the heavens unleashed upon us a green, viscous fluid that swiftly began to fizzle and turn into fog.


    A fog that began to melt metal and skin.


    None screamed at the attack, as the miracles and blessings given to us reformed our skin even faster than it could be consumed, but that was not the end. Another attack came and this time unleashed a pale gas¡­ and I recalled with fear the rumors of a poison being used in the Ancient tunnels against the monsters that headed the call of the Death Lord. I acted on instinct, and called upon the winds to carry away the fog from the battlefield, while I felt Khalai¡¯s miracle wash over us to protect us from disease and poison.


    The miracle did away with the green fog, but it did not repair the metal consumed it.


    The King of Wisdom always worked to weaken his foes before he struck with all his might.


    And, just as I expected, the next wave of attackers unleashed fire upon us. The bombs burst in the air, and scattered a thick, vicious black substance that caught alight with frightening speed and burned a bright orange. In but a few moments, the bombs scattered all over our position, and I moved swiftly to counter it with the High Justiciar¡¯s aid.


    We¡¯ve seen the attack before, and knowing its efficacy, we planned against it.


    I and everyone else skilled with the blade cut through the flesh upon which the flame stuck, while priests rapidly healed the damage. It was gruesome, terrible work, but I did it swiftly to however was close and my own body. We instructed as many as possible to shield their heads, and to cast off helmets if the flame stuck, and it worked to great effect. None burned to death thanks to our strategy¡­ but it cost us time.


    Time that we could¡¯ve used to prepare against the force against us.


    Pure-white figures, the same creatures that assaulted us and waylaid our path since we found the Goddess of Death, slammed into the ground around us. Humanoid in shape, unlike the Guardians, they were fierce and terrible opponents. Unlike the monstrous Citadel Guardians, only capable of attacking the enemy, these ones worked together, learned from their mistakes, and prioritized targets.


    I readied myself to slice through their upper chests, where their hearts lay, but a familiar sound reached me.


    The sound of a massive blade being drawn.


    I barely manage to raise my blade and divert the Sword of Wisdom¡¯s attack to the side, and when her sword connected with the ground, the blooded earth erupted upward like a plume of water rather than soil. Then, in an instant, my instincts told me to leap back and I did. Where my heart was a moment before, I saw an arrow pass, and then I heard Conquest¡¯s roar.


    I managed to dodge the lightning bolts that surged from the sky to strike me down¡­ and then I felt two knives enter my back and through my lungs.


    Morgan slunk away, an obscuring cloud of smoke hiding her instantly, as I felt poison course through me from my lungs.


    This was it.


    Conquest, Ilych, Rita, and Morgan were all arrayed against me. I could see the other creatures they dropped onto the field ravaging our soldiers with speed and precision typical only of truly elite troops. Our people were being torn apart, shredded by bladed limbs, and thrown away far from the reach of our priests. Poisoned daggers were in my chest through my back, while four individuals I could consider peers bore down upon me.


    This was the moment where gave my life for my people.


    If I could bring these four low, if we can hold their lives hostage with the offer of resurrection, we could end this war in an instant.


    All I had to do was swing my sword.


    I emptied my mind, closed my eyes, and focused inward. I broke down the seconds, finding my place between heartbeats, and dulled all my senses. Darkness ruled me, while I ignored the pain, agony, the deaths of my fellow warriors, and all other concerns.


    There were only four targets.


    Conquest.


    Rita.


    Ilych.


    Morgan.


    In the darkness that was my world, they were bright outlines. Their souls gleaming gems in an abyssal sea. Gems of immense might and power that contained unwavering souls filled with dedication to the King of Wisdom. Warriors that dedicated their lives to a singular cause and so were undoubtably fit for Paradise a thousand times over.


    Today they would meet their end.


    I raised my blade with both hands, filled my body with power, and abandoned my own life. An arrow tore through my heart, lightning struck me, and more poisoned knives found their way into my vitals. My neck, my head, my innards, and all were filled with blades coated in poison.


    But I already abandoned my body.


    It was just a vessel, while I was within my blade.


    When they awakened me, they thought that I was called the Saintess of Swords.


    They were incorrect.


    I am the Sword Saint.


    My flesh was my prior vessel, while the sword was my true self.


    And, so, I swung myself at them, expending all that I had.


    In my mind¡¯s eye, I saw my strikes land. Faster than they could react to. Faster than they could see. Nothing more than a flash of light glinting off my body, then they are cut.


    I saw Morgan swiftly retreat and lose only an arm.


    I saw Rita try to leap above the strike, only to be cut in twain, as I predicted her leap.


    I saw Conquest¡¯s heart and skull pierced with the tip of my blade, and swift rotation upon withdrawal turning both organs into naught but eviscerated flesh.


    But that was only my mind¡¯s eye.


    I had to surmount their guardian.


    Ilych, the Sword of Wisdom, who placed herself before me with eyes unclouded by fear and a calm heart.


    Her life-consuming blade weathered a hundred cuts and thrusts without breaking, but her skill was lacking. I caught its hilt on my back and pulled it out of her grasp with strength she could not hope to match. However, instead of running after her weapon, she took the weapons at her hips and fired at me. The two revolvers sped towards my former my vessel, the anchor that I used as leverage to wield my true self, and the twelve bullets had to be cut apart. She moved to reload them, but I cut them apart out of her hands.


    Then, I aimed to kill her.


    She surged forward, away from the tip of my sword, and into the range of my blade proper.


    I thought that I could cut through her.


    I was wrong.


    I felt the parting of flesh across my body, I felt the rending of armor and metal, and the overcoming of enchantment. I went through her shoulder, carved into her lung, tore through her heart, and then left through her side to cut through her liver in one single motion. One blow amongst dozens went across her body, one after another, I kept striking and breaking through flesh and armor whilst spraying blood and flesh in every direction.


    But she kept advancing.


    I understood that she was healing herself, that the armor was feasting upon her blood and assisting in her effort by knitting together her and bone with tendrils of metal. With every blow, I was cutting through more and more metal instead of flesh. Interlaced strands of metal faced me, instead of plates of black armor, like a mass of metal vines covering a towering Descendant¡¯s form. I kept cutting through them, until suddenly¡­ there was resistance.


    I kept striking.


    She took one step.


    I kept cutting.


    Another step.


    I searched for lethal points¡­ but with every passing moment they ceased to be.


    Then, finally, a third step.


    The Sword of Wisdom reached me, a body kept together by healing magic and cursed, writhing armor embedded into flesh and bone, and she took hold of my vessel and caught it in her arms.


    Trapping my anchor¡¯s limbs in place as a living, unbreakable vice.


    In moments, Conquest, Rita, and Morgan were upon my anchor and cutting it apart and breaking my connection to it. They crushed bone, turned innards to pulp, and set it aflame.


    Leaving me within my true self, held by the Sword of Wisdom, while the three moved on to kill my liege.


    I was defeated, and I watched as the innumerable, writhing mass of metal retreated and turned into rudimentary plate. I watched as bone healed, as flesh returned, and skin formed upon the Sword of Wisdom, until Ilych returned¡­ haggard, gaunt, and pale from sheer expenditure.


    Then, she looked at me, as I truly was, and spoke.


    ¡°Well fought, Sirena.¡±


    At those words, I understood my mistake.


    I thought I faced a normal mortal.


    Not someone who only saw their mortal form as a vessel, as I did.


    ¡­


    ¡°What a mess.¡± I sent in close to five hundred Iterants and only three hundred came back. They could double in a few months, sure, but they still needed time to learn and train. Then, there¡¯s all the Iterants we placed in the Wardens¡¯ lands. Most of them were planning to support the replacement leader that we were setting up, gathering intelligence from towns, and generally doing clandestine work. It was our biggest espionage project and investment, with over two thousand spread across the region. Over half were now dead, since they had to slow Khalai down. ¡°Make sure that all the bodies are accounted for. Within reason, of course. Make sure that their progeny is informed and they receive our gratitude.¡±


    Iterants say that they didn¡¯t have any connection to the Iterants that they produce, but we kept track just in case and gave them the same benefits as soldiers who died in battle. Also, their names were recorded in memorials beneath the Citadels. Not open to the public, since they were a secret, but that was going to change soon. I¡¯ll have them placed next to the proper memorials in a month or two.


    People were going to put two and two together.


    ¡°Any luck hunting down the survivors?¡±


    ¡°All leads have been followed and we¡¯ve given chase. Many have been hunted down, but some were fortunate and commandeered horses from local villages. The villages had militia that slowed us down.¡± That meant that by my order, some villages were probably destroyed, but I had to try and keep the Iterants unknown. There were plenty of them out there in other nations. Now, I was sure that they had to be recalled, otherwise I¡¯m going to lose a lot of skilled people for no reason. This was really a shitshow. ¡°Your majesty?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve done the best we could with the time we had and the people we had on site. I only wish that we could¡¯ve done better and lost less lives.¡± Ayah gave a nod at my words, while we surveyed the battlefield. It was like a carpet of torn off limbs and bodies across a hilltop. Khalai and his people took the top of a hill on a nearby road and tried to repel the latest Iterant attack on their caravan. After multiple attacks from the moment they found the Death Goddess, the Wardens abandoned their all-offense tactics in favor of defense. Unfortunately, during the last ambush, the Warden¡¯s main force was hit by five hundred more Iterants and four Champions. Khalai and Sirena, an army that¡¯s been harried for weeks on end, against four hyper-specialized Champions and a fresh batch of troops. The outcome was predictable. ¡°Make sure that we have as many torsos with us as possible. Keep them frozen and stored away before we bury them. If they start breaking apart, make note of it. That probably means that they¡¯ve been resurrected.¡±


    You need a sizeable chunk of a person to revive them. The whole body with many wounds was preferred, as it¡¯s just calling back the soul and restarting the body after fixing it up with magic. However, with a lot of magical power and reagents, you can rebuild a person¡¯s body with magic from a sizeable chunk. The Warden¡¯s cathedrals of resurrection massively decreased the cost. In the flavor text, the Tier 1 version of the faction wonder could revive people from just a hand. My goal was to try and deny that by gathering up parts and pieces and storing them away.


    It probably wasn¡¯t going to work, but it was worth a shot.


    There weren¡¯t many prisoners.


    Khalai was though, and only because Morgan managed to bind him up and heal him after he tried to off himself to respawn.


    Dude was metal as fuck.


    ¡°They¡¯re going to try and retake him.¡± I walked over to the makeshift runway. The gliders were in alright shape, but alright shape for a flying vessel wasn¡¯t something I was willing to take a chance with. We were all going to board normal transports on the way back, while the gliders were going to be towed back without any passengers. Just a mage and a pilot with some parachutes. ¡°And, I don¡¯t think the coma strategy is going to work. He¡¯s resisted everything we¡¯ve thrown at him.¡±


    Ayah followed me as we got to the makeshift camp. It was all Iterants and they were fixing themselves up using parts and pieces from those who fell in battle. Cores were put aside and gingerly stored away, but the rest of the body they didn¡¯t bother caring about.


    ¡°Lady Morgan has suggested severing his spinal cord at the neck down. The body will persist and nourish the brain as he does.¡±


    ¡°May as well just restrain him completely¡­ but in all honesty, we could use him. He¡¯s the entire reason that the Wardens have managed to get this far.¡± The Wardens are the last ones to get a Citadel. Under my protection, they only developed one army and got one Champion online. Only after the Death Lord¡¯s demise, and their joining of the alliance against me, did they start investing in their own military¡­ but that came in the form of Citadel Guardians. Their troops didn¡¯t receive enough veterancy, they didn¡¯t have enough industrial output, and overall ended up weaker because of my protection. A few wars would¡¯ve fixed that, especially with the Death Goddess, but I intervened before it happened. ¡°But we¡¯ll see how he feels about that.¡±


    We reached the containment area for the Wardens, and I received a lot of harsh looks and yelling from all the people in chains that we captured, but my interest was the transport block right in the middle.


    Khalai was bound up and restrained in a chair. Everything from the waist down was strapped up in a medical chair made by the Citadel. It was a medical device that allowed patients whose bodies needed to be kept still to stay mobile with their thoughts alone. We removed that functionality, but kept the padding and its ability to deal with defecation and urination.


    ¡°Hey there, Jackie. Time to make use of your new toy?¡± Khalai¡¯s words were as flirty as ever, but his eyes told the real story. Plain, simple fury filled his gaze. Without a doubt, in his head, there was no negotiation to be had. Only a way for him to get out of this and return to his position as High Justiciar. His zeal was unbroken¡­ and I doubted if it could ever break. As different as the Dark Elves were in this world, they were still family to the regular, genocidal long-term planners that were the regular Elves. ¡°I promise that I¡¯ll be good, as long as you treat my people well.¡±


    Instantly, he offered himself as a hostage and as a plaything without any hint of shame.


    Some would call him out as weak for doing so, but we both knew the score.


    If you win, what you do doesn¡¯t matter.


    Yeah, there¡¯s no way I¡¯m getting him on my side, and putting him to sleep wasn¡¯t working¡­ so, I had to get creative.


    But I was going to make him an offer first.


    ¡°I intend to make you an offer, but first I¡¯ll tell you what I plan on doing to you if you refuse.¡±


    Normally, Khalai would say something along the lines of ¡®kinky¡¯ but he could tell that I was serious.


    ¡°I will house you in a sensory deprivation chamber within the Citadel. In there you will be restrained and unable to move. Food will come through to you on a small pipe to your arm. We¡¯ll gag you to make sure you can¡¯t bite down. In that chamber, there will be no sound, no sensation, and no light. You will be alone and isolated completely.¡± This was super, extremely fucked up. I shared meals and drinks with this guy. If not for our circumstances, with my inevitable fight against him looming, I would¡¯ve called him friend. I still remembered when I went to them to help them from being blitzed by the other established factions. However, in the end, I knew that was going to be the only possibility. ¡°You¡¯re strong, Khalai, but with the passing of years, you¡¯ll lose yourself¡­ and even if you hold on, it won¡¯t matter in a few years.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know that for sure, but as capable and strong as Khalai is, I doubted he could withstand absolute nothingness for years and years without breaking.


    Anyway, Khalai picked up on what I was implying with the ¡®few years¡¯ comment.


    I basically told him how I was going to get away with taking the Death Goddess without the rest of the continent pouncing on me.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to let me people be slaughtered.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Between the option of facing my nation and my Iterants for the Death Goddess, or taking the Citadel now without a leader, the choice is obvious.¡± The best outcome would be if I took the Death Goddess and the Warden Citadel. However, that wasn¡¯t possible without immense losses. Even with Citadel Guardians swarming my borders, I couldn¡¯t afford to lose my armies. They were defensive in nature. You can¡¯t force policies of other nations to change with defenses. ¡°I¡¯ll tell them your tactics, your secrets, and remove my Iterants from their lands, while giving them your Citadel to appease them.¡±


    ¡°They will not be satisfied by one Citadel.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll take them at least two years to take your lands with the armies that they have now, even if they all work together. They won¡¯t. I think that Celia will swoop in and take it all, while the Merchants play the Forgers like a fiddle.¡± Khalai¡¯s gaze was steady and unwavering as I told him the truth of the situation. Or, at the very least, the truth as I could get it with the information that I had. Plenty of conjecture, but this wasn¡¯t entirely about facts. I¡¯m trying to persuade Khalai to not be a zealot and work with me. ¡°They¡¯ll redirect their attention to me after¡­ but that won¡¯t matter. The foes of our ancestors will be here by then. That¡¯s when I want your help. Not as the High Justiciar of the Wardens, but you, Khalai, as a person working for the betterment of as many people as possible.¡±


    ¡°After you give away my Citadel and have my followers killed.¡± Khalai¡¯s voice was calm, but I could hear the zealous rage simmering in the very back of his throat. Beneath the cute mask, there is and has always been a zealot who would¡¯ve launched a crusade at the living to bring them all into paradise. ¡°Perhaps, I would consider it if you aid my people and see them retain the Citadel.¡±


    My answer to that was already set.


    ¡°No. I know you, Khalai, and I know your people. I¡¯ve known all along from the moment you rose from your caverns and seized your Citadel.¡± I took a step forward towards him, making sure to meet his gaze, as he sat strapped to a chair. There was no need to lean over and be all imposing. I just stood across him and met his gaze with arms crossed. ¡°There was only one path forward for your people, after you realized the gravity of the situation, and after you completed another Cathedral of Resurrection and expanded your vision of Paradise. Past the plains where the recently deceased lay, past the forests, but before the crystal spires where legends await the call.¡±


    Suddenly, through all the fury in Khalai¡¯s gaze, a spark of surprise came through and a sharp exhale left his lips.


    The Wardens never wrote down what paradise looked like.


    But I knew.


    ¡°It is not solely a place for Wardens. It is for all mortals and peoples that come from the Ancients. The Ancients, when all their enemies came for them, opened paradise for every soul¡­ to save everyone.¡± This was it. The core of the Warden¡¯s ethos later in the game. They accepted no other religion now, moving to convert everyone to theirs by making them family or just carnal relations¡­ the knowledge I shared now led to their change. The change from people who converted others to those who¡¯ll just kill and send people to paradise. ¡°Tell me, Khalai, in this world filled horrific foes and old grudges, what would you have your people do knowing that all who are slain go to paradise without exemption?¡±


    I had to give him credit.


    Khalai didn¡¯t hesitate to answer.


    ¡°I would have my people take on the sin and send all the paradise to save everyone.¡± Ayah and the Iterants all stepped back at the words, at the simple, unhesitant, and unrepentant admission, and suddenly Morgan stepped out of the shadows with eyes filled with anger. I raised my hand before she could do anything. Khalai¡¯s eyes changed as he considered and ingested the idea, and it flowed over him and wreathed him in ecstasy and joy. ¡°I see! Of course! Paradise would be granted to all by the Ancients if all our souls were at risk! We simply cannot see the souls of others, because we¡¯ve only searched for ourselves and never with temples that we needed! Yes!¡±


    It was validation.


    No, it was something stronger.


    Vindication.


    In their eyes, it wasn¡¯t that they were just right all this time, but that they were always undoubtably and irrefutably correct through the Ancients.


    Khalai¡¯s eyes shone at me with trust and joy, lacking in any fury whatsoever, and his smile nearly stretched from ear to ear with pearly white teeth.


    Yet, with those same ecstatic eyes and smile, he¡¯d carve my heart out without hesitation.


    All to save me¡­ and he didn¡¯t even have a shred of evidence that I wasn¡¯t lying to him.


    I¡¯ve seen enough.


    I acted before he could speak.


    ¡°Gag him and prepare to inter him.¡± I doubted it would work now. I shouldn¡¯t have asked, even if it validated my own decision to take the path that I did against the Wardens. ¡°This knowledge doesn¡¯t leave this room if this truth is known to all the Wardens¡­ there¡¯s only one path we can take with them and their faith.¡±


    The Iterants nodded, while Morgan glared at Khalai.


    I took a moment to place a hand on her shoulder and take advantage of that strong reaction against the Wardens¡¯ endgame.


    ¡°All their texts and all their temples must burn during this war. That¡¯s your first, true mission as general, Morgan.¡±


    If a religion goes crazy, who better to sic on them than the Demon Lord?