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.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

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.