V2: Chapter 9:

…

I'm fucked.

A set of scales from the western coast that slowly grew when submerged in water.

A series of bronze-spearheads from the eastern mountain ranges covered in potent poison even after centuries being buried.

Living metal shards from the south.

Then, in the north, a piece of bleeding stone that burned whatever it spilled upon.

A lot of nerds in the forums complained that the endgame crises couldn't have hoped to beat the Ancients. If the Ancients had the Citadels and numbers alone, that meant that they could handle every single endgame crisis. Now, they wouldn't come out of it unscathed, but they'd would definitely be able to handle it, pick themselves up, and celebrate. The dev's reply was to start releasing a new crisis with new mechanics with every expansion. Three expansions, three additional endgame crisis, and when they were all released there was an option to turn them all on at once.

Some mouth breathers and idiots kept up the stupid meme of the Ancients losing being unrealistic, but everyone with two brain cells pieced the truth together. The Ancients hadn't found themselves on the opposite end of a gun barrel after years of peace. They got stabbed in the guts, dragged into an alley, and jumped by a whole damn gang.

And, that gang was on its fucking way back, since they had no intention of letting the Ancients return.

But… at the very least… I could do something I this world that wasn't possible in the game.

"Ayah, we need to start contacting others and making allies. This will serve as proof, along with your existence, and the Ancient's mural." Discovering the endgame crises early gave the faction that did so diplomatic influence. Usually, that meant jack shit, since the AI usually followed its prime directive of winning as much as it could. Any peace was short-lived, any cease-fire would be broken, and so diplomatic influence was best traded away for some tech, a Champion, or some resources. Naturally, I was counting on the fact that I was going to be speaking with real, living people instead of sprites. "The Conquerers will be the first I contact and then the Guardians."

The Conquerers and Guardians had the best AI in the game, because while other factions hated you for becoming stronger and having more 'points' in the system the game used to quantify how well you're doing, they were the opposite.

The powerful warrior Orcs believed in strength and power being a necessity. Even in total war, they were willing to keep dialogue open and even keep trading. Best of all, they were willing to avoid sieges and settle things completely on the field. They could be reasonably counted on to be allies that actually held the line and even push against the enemy, and only 'backstab' you when you're the last ones standing. One final, epic battle with all the Champions and Units each faction had atop the corpses of all the other armies they broke together. No stupid, long series of sieges or traveling around the whole continent with armies, because they bet all their cities and Citadels as long as you do the same.

Epic and basically another reason why the Orcs were the best.

The Guardians, meanwhile, were mostly composed of aristocratic Vampires that were intended to lead legions of Undead, and they were meant to follow the lead of the Ancients. One could say that they were meant to serve rather than lead, but that'd be an overgeneralization. The Guardians were meant to live cushy lives and focus entirely on getting better at killing, at duels, and at warfare. All the amenities and wealth they had were just there to support the lifestyle of getting swole and overpowered, until they were called on to fight something that the Ancients couldn't handle through deploying their overpowered constructs. A whole race of immortal spec-op soldiers that did nothing but train. They'll also be armed with magical weapons and have access to spell-based artillery. That's atop the fact that they could lead and summon legions of various Undead.

If you're the leading partner in the alliance, they'll be pretty happy to tag along as long you don't raze any cities to the ground. They had issues with you when you were the belligerent, but that's rarely an issue since all the other factions would be willing to fight you on the basis of being richer than them alone. If you reached endgame with them, you'll get the chance to send one of your Champions against on of theirs for a duel to the death. They'll send their strongest, typically an army-killer with loads of levels, while you can send a specialized assassin into the fight and just win in a few minutes.

I had Ilych and Rita could also do the deed, so there was no issue allying with the Guardians and dragging them to the top.

Or, that was what I hoped for, before Ayah produced a scroll from my 'in' box and wordlessly gave it to me.

I read it, then resisted the urge to bang my head against the table.

"The day I get the evidence I need, the very moment that I could get people to sit down and talk, and they decide to declare war on each other."

The Guardians and Conquerers were now at war.

Now, I had to pick one to ally with instead of one, and we'll be equals with 2 Citadels each.

Fuck.

"Tell Riegert that we need to broker a peace immediately. Get him to the Conquerers." I got up and rang the bell on my table. An older gentleman in a suit came forward quickly. I had wizened butlers, because maids would be too much for me. "I'm going to speak to… uh… what's her name again? The leader of the Guardians of the Moon?"

"Lady Celia of House Adil, oh King of Wisdom."

"It's wisdom, not memory!"

Ayah shook its head, but moved to write the letter while I got dressed in the Academy uniform.

I needed to stop a war… because this run is already ridiculously suboptimal for one endgame crisis let alone four!

I'm keeping you idiots alive, no matter what!

…

Interlude: Riegert.

…

"So, the King of Wisdom has bid us to stay our hand, despite honor demanding we answer the call for battle against the Guardians."

It was always tough on the nerves to speak with a Conquerer. Four times the mass, increased reaction speed, and hides that could ward off anything short of honest steel. The Ancients built them as shock troops, while the Guardians were elites that led overwhelming numbers. Two sides of the same coin, but now both were rushing headlong into conflict.

A dangerous, terrible conflict, no matter how righteously, and honorably, they fought one another.

"His highness is asking you to hold back, until he can convince the Guardians that they're in the wrong and that this war will cause more suffering than either of you expect." I recited as much as I could from Jack's letters. He had a way with words that I did not, even if he didn't acknowledge them himself. Though I was offered food and audience with the Conquerers in their most innermost sanctum, I couldn't imagine Jack in the same place as I. The walls were lined with the skulls of hundreds of dreadful monsters casting shadows by torchlight. I sat at the end of a long table with plenty offered, but none touched. They did not eat with me. None of the same respect that they had for Jack was offered to me. "He says that if you move against one another, then the others will move against one another as well. The suffering they will cause while the two of you are weakened and cannot bring them to heel will greatly harm the continent."

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"The Guardians have demanded of us three ritual battles. Two between armies as is our custom and one between Champions as is theirs." Crusher spoke in their leader's stead. The massive Conquerer that sat upon a throne carved from the bones of massive monsters was silent. A gnarled and greying and wrinkled hand raised or lowered in approval or disapproval. I knew him. All peoples did. The Deliverer could cut me in two with ease, even in his last years. "By oaths upon their own ancestors, they have sworn that shall be the sole conflict that decides this war. We would be craven and foolish both to not accept. You ask of us to spit upon the promises and oaths of honorable men and women to stay the hands of rapacious meat."

I almost bowed my head at the words, but Jack's note at the very start and end of the letter came to the forefront of my mind.

The threat we intended to put on the table.

"Then, we have our own oath and promise to give: if the two of you move against one another, then so shall we against both of you." The words tasted like madness incarnate on my own lips. In all years, I never imagined declaring such words to a Conquerer, let alone the man who united all their clans in a single banner in but one lifetime. Khanrow and I achieved much, but it paled in comparison to a man who gathered all his kin to his side. He turned his people from instruments of war used for centuries into a civilization that laid claim to the Ancient's legacy. "And, because we cannot compare to your strengths, we must be dishonorable and craven ourselves. The armies and Champions you send forth will return to all that they were meant to protect undone or under siege."

Crusher didn't manage to speak, because Deliverer did for the first time since I entered the room. His was a whisper through a grayed beard and wrinkled lips. Leaning forward, I glimpsed his face and saw his sunken eyes and cheeks. Much of his form was emaciated and much of his muscle was gone. The strength of even elders left him and death clung to him… yet I had to grit my teeth and clench my fists as his mere whisper echoed louder than Crusher's voice through the whole court.

"Correct." It was like listening to a giant speak. More like stone grinding over stone and echoing down a cave than speech. The Deliverer's eyes also shone with a fierce light, despite his emaciated body. I see. He sacrificed his body for the sake of his mind and more years to guide his people. Rumors were that when Conquerers abstained from eating and drinking they fell into a deep sleep from which they could remain alive for nearly half a year and be recovered with fresh water and honey poured into their gullet. The Deliverer used this rumored skill to live a half-life of sorts. Painful, but if half of the tales were true, then he has suffered worse. "The King of Wisdom lives up to his name."

I did not deny that it was Jack's idea.

In fact, a weight lifted from my shoulders the moment it became clear that they knew I was speaking in his stead.

From a survivor living off of battle scraps, to our guide to find the Citadel, and now a leader whose reputation I relied upon.

I couldn't have imagined it upon our first meeting, but here I was working with his reputation as a shield.

"The threat has been given and heard. Now offer the prize for peace that we would have in war's stead.

The Deliverer rumbled and spoke from his throne with clarity of focus and will irrespective of his age. I'd heard stories of him as a boy on my grandfather's lap. He is nearly a century and a half old when his people usually lived only eight decades. "A fitting exchange for a Citadel will be necessary."

I swallowed thickly and spoke once more according to Jack's letter.

He predicted those words perfectly.

"We offer a hundred tons of food and a ton of gold bars."

"In exchange for a Citadel!?" Crusher roared, but the Deliverer raised his hand and swiftly lowered it. The thud of his hand against his throne echoed in the darkness alight by flickering flames held in grinning, monstrous skulls. "My words were my own. Not that of my people."

Jack saw through that too.

Once I felt chilled by his predictions and answers, but now I breathed more and more easily with each one.

He truly knew.

"We offer all this in exchange for a three seasons of a ceasefire. We ask not for peace, but for the chance to settle the matter with the Guardians."

"I see. And, how does the King of Wisdom plan to bring the obstinate Guardians to heel?"

I spoke bluntly.

"Through either diplomacy or force. They will relinquish their claim on your lands, or have all their armies crushed, their villages razed, and their merchants barred." This was of the greatest importance. Offering the same deal to the Guardians, in Jack's letter, would anger the Conquerers as they were not the belligerents. "We offer you what we do out of understanding that you were the ones threatened with war. Stay your hand, let us spare this continent the bloodshed that we fear, and we will give you all that we have promised."

"Food we cannot ignore and riches we need, in exchange for staying back… and handing the King of Wisdom the right to rule over the continent as its lord who would have all follow his ideals." The Deliverer laughed and raised a gnarled hand closer to a tree branch than a limb to stroke his grey beard. His eyes gleamed with a ferocity that shook me to my core. "In exchange, the better sum for our inaction would be five hundred tons of food and two tons of gold for every season of the three."

I grit my teeth and clenched my hands into a fist…

…to stop myself from crying out in elation and victory.

That was half as much as we were willing to give… just as Jack had predicted if everything has gone well!

And, with what I knew of them because of what we learned through Khanrow's observers and information, I could still lower the price!

I'd thought it impossible, but we were going to buy peace for a bargain, just as Jack had implied!