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?"
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
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!