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.

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…

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."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"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—

"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.