V2: Chapter 13

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Interlude: Riegert

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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.

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

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.