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—wait, 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!
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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—mmgrph!?"
"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.