V3: Chapter 1:
…
I'd always thought massive, moving carriages were a stupid idea. One giant wagon with massive wheels pulled by dozens of horses through the landscape, like a luxury bus sans an actual motor? Yeah, I'd rather those horses pull plows or transport materials. Opportunity cost should be at the forefront of the mind of any leader. Forty-plus horses can be used a lot better for other things than pull along a small, shitty house across the continent.
Still, as the wannabe eminent power rivalling the Academy on the continent, I couldn't roll up to someone else's lands looking poor. The unfortunate truth of the matter is that you need to look good in order to be treated like a you're worth talking to. Unlike the modern world, where you can just put on a suit and look good enough for any occasion, in this world, things were different. The whole entourage needed to look good.
The horses needed to be the finest.
The soldiers the best.
The servants needed to be top-of-the-class.
The drip should be beyond question.
Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone that I have no clue about anything regarding fashion or customs of this world. I barely knew anything about either in my previous world, and that's when I had a little device on hand at all times that could access all the knowledge the world wanted me to know. Sure, I had some tutors that taught me things regarding the subject, but they were tertiary classes that were once in a blue moon.
Honestly, you'd think ravaging a whole country in a few days would get a guy enough respect to walk somewhere wearing sweatpants without being considered trash, but that's just life.
Anyway, in the end, I couldn't be bothered to deal with everything.
So, I just asked the person arranging the whole thing how much they needed, told them I didn't want it to look gaudy, gave them some ideas, and doubled their budget.
In hindsight, that was a mistake.
…
"I feel like I'm at the head of a victory march. Not a diplomatic parade." I spoke to Riegert through gritted teeth, as we neared the Wardens' Citadel. They were one of the last to get their Citadel. Sure, they had the advantage of knowing what they were doing, but they were still just getting started on things. So, my whole procession/parade/travel caravan was going through a city in construction with many living in makeshift housing or tents. I felt like an idiot waving my hands towards kids in rags staring up at me in awe from dirt streets. "What the heck? We should've sent an aid package before coming here."
"You'd have shamed them, if you sent such a thing, Jack." Riegert counseled and smirked when I glared at him for being right. He was done up in a fancy new, bright tunic with my crest on it atop fresh, gleaming plate armor. He even had his hair cut short and beard trimmed, so he looked a decade younger. Now, I'm not angry that he's getting all the attention, but having him look nice and tidy here just pointed out the fact he felt fine being a mess back home. "Besides, by showing up in force like this, we lend credence to your victories. We need to make sure no one doubts that the tales are true."
"Subtlety is still worth considering." I grumbled at the center of a full military procession down the main street of a foreign nation's capital. Over five hundred men were my official guards for this trip. Two hundred were heavy cavalry. Another two hundred were aerial cavalry overhead. Finally, all the heavy infantry were marching in blocks in gleaming plates and tunics, just like Riegert and carrying my banners. "At least tell me that this is the right move. The Wardens aren't going to be pissed about this, right?"
With the Guardians of the Moon out of the picture for the foreseeable future, and very unlikely to work with me once they're back in action, the Wardens of the Caverns were a decent replacement for them. Relatively balanced tech tree, though a tad weak in the late game due to squishier units. They needed a lot of micro, so they were a pain to win with, because auto-battle gets too many of their troops killed. However, their economy was decent with a lot of metal-based strategic bonuses, and they were willing to trade and make alliances unlike the Children of the Elm.
The problem was that they were the uptight paladins of the setting, skilled at diplomacy, but very against certain factions. Despite their preferred state of dress of tiny metal bikinis and speedos, and dark color scheme, this was the straight-laced, lawful-good faction. The Guardians of the Moon are more Neutral Good, willing to accept and compromise.
Not these guys.
Justice must be repaid with justice.
Evil must be punished and taught to be better.
Good boys and girls are rewarded.
Bad boys and girls are punished.
Yeah.
The dark-skinned, white-haired faction wearing mostly metal swimwear, skintight silk, or cloaks and not!lacy-underthings beneath believes in punishing wrongdoers and treating good boys and girls very well. Some dev definitely had a fetish, and I wanted to shake his hand for going above and beyond for the game, but in reality, it was a pain.
"They're eyeing me up like I'm a piece of meat." I'll be hitting 15 here. 14 came and went with all the hullabaloo at Academy. This should be general knowledge. One of my monikers was 'Boy King,' after all. Still, I was getting eyes from a lot of angles. Now, because of my circumstances, I preferred ladies over young women, and the spirit is willing, but the thought of indulging myself with my current body made me dry heave. Maybe, if someone else got reincarnated into a younger body, they'd be fine going off their mental age and doing what they wanted at 15. Me? Bile was gathering at the back of my throat at the thought. "Are you sure these guys are as just and honorable as you say, if they're looking that way at a child?"
"…It's a tad worrisome, but I see more admiration than lust." The fact that there's lust in that crowd is weird as hell, already. My thoughts on the matter must've been apparent, since Riegert sighed. "Most of the ones looking at you as a man are close to your own age."
If they're younger than me, that's just gross.
If they're technically the same age as me, it's also gross.
Maybe if they're a couple years older than me. At least three. No, that adds up to eighteen. Augh. Going out with an 18-year-old when I'm mentally in my thirties? I think I'm going to hurl. Who knows? Maybe I'll feel differently when I'm in my twenties and I get hit with a mental mid-life crisis and turn into a bigger degenerate. As of now, though, being surrounded by a fanservice faction and getting stared at like a piece of meat wasn't at all appealing to me. Don't talk to me unless you're at least 24. Hell, that's probably too young. Thirty? That'll be weird for everyone involved.
You know what, I'm just going to stop thinking.
"And, you've decided to just ignore it all. You do know that'll just entice those with confidence to go after you to prove their worth, right?"
Ohmmmmm.
Not thinking.
Ohmmmmm.
Not thinking.
Ohmmmmm.
"You're going to learn how to deal with affection and seduction sooner rather than later, Jack."
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Can't hear you, I'm the ultimate life form spinning through space just smiling and waving his hand at the crowd.
…
Wavy, shoulder-length hair. Elbow-length gloves. Near-skintight-crop top. Side-tied lower-half robes with very tight shorts revealed by a very long slit along with a lot of leg. Big purple eyes accentuated with purple eyeliner. Pert lips highlighted by purple lipstick and white facial markings across the forehead instead of a crown.
Ladies and gentlemen, the High Justiciar of the Wardens of the Caverns, Khalai the Merciful.
Yes.
The small, slender individual in a not!belly-dancer outfit is the Dark Elves' King.
Before you ask, it's canon that he likes being stepped on, stepping on others, and will eventually have multiple lovers in the later years. He likes both men and women.
And, no, you do not meet his standards, you mouth-breathing degenerate.
Insert standard praise for the devs, here.
"Well met, King of Wisdom. Your… bodyguards have certainly made an impact on my city." Khalai the Merciful. Is a diplomacy-focused leader with bonuses towards cultural progress. Leave him alone, and you're going to find posters of Dark Elves all over your town and your citizenry discontent that you're not a tanned, toned twink with slender abs and a smoldering smirk. Yeah, you can't compete if you let him snowball. Gotta correct him real quick via deep, penetrating strikes into his territory to keep him off-balance at all times. Insert more innuendos here. Seriously, the forums love this guy. "I fear that my people will forever wish that its your warriors in our streets and not mine."
Despite the fact I was fifteen and he was closer to a hundred and fifty, I was already taller than him.
I did my best to not recall the 'art' seared into my brain regarding Khalia and the word 'imagine' and gave him a small bow of respect.
Believe or not, this guy's got more art than Rita.
I mean, it makes sense, since he's got double the simps.
Oh, right.
Diplomacy.
"You honor me with your praise. I had asked for a light guard, but I'm afraid my people insisted, especially with our disastrous relations with the Children of the Elm." I learned a bit about justifications from my teachers. Precedent and historical backing is important. An assassination attempt during a diplomatic meeting at my own home was a good explanation for my heavy guards. "I see that your town looks much like ours when it first began. We are more than happy to help a fellow believer in peace."
I felt Riegert's eyes on my back when I opened up with the trade offer right away, even before we entered past the Citadel's walls, but I ignored him.
The trade offer in that phrase wasn't important.
It was the fact I called the Wardens of the Caverns believers in peace, and the fact that I mentioned their offshoots. According to the lore, while the Children of the Elm were rampant park rangers, the Wardens of the Caverns were long-lived, highly-efficient miners and maintainers of much of the underground, Ancient constructions. They had to research living above ground, but the abundance of metals and trade goods that they had made up for that. Not only that, but their culture valued working with others, creating strong markets to sell to, and making sure everything's nice and orderly.
They know that making wrong moves can collapse whole tunnels and kill hundreds slowly and painfully due to their environment.
Praising that part of their culture was sure to get brownie points.
Oh, and so did reminding them I put down the faction that they hate the most.
That's probably worth a favor or twoooo—and Khalai's hooked his arm up with mine and put a hand on my chest to lead me towards his house.
"Oh, let us leave the formalities for later. You and your soldiers should rest." Khalai gave a smile and leaned against my arm with his chest. I managed to cast a glance over my shoulder at Riegert. The damnable man who'd questioned me with his eyes earlier was now struggling to hold back laughter. Dammit. Whilst turning my gaze back forward, I spied one of my guards looking at me with envy from the corner of his eye. His friend right behind him was wide-eyed and struggling to hold back laughter. Someone didn't read the mission file. "If you're willing, Jacky, how about sharing a cup of tea with me before all the formalities?"
Thank goodness, despite being accepting of this sort of thing, that I'm straight.
Also, I had to suspend my moral sensibilities for a moment, because Khalai was going after somebody who was technically just 15. This world had fucked up views on adulthood, and that needed to be corrected. Hm, well, I guess 150 in Dark Elf years was just a bit past seventeen, but that's beside the point.
I wanted good relations and wasn't interested, so I made the line in the sand as clear as possible without harming either of us.
"My apologies, High Justiciar, but I must tend to my soldiers and I believe that our nations should come first." I gave a shake of my head and twisted my arm a bit. To Khalai's credit, he took the cue instantly and disengaged and stopped the act. No pouting. No accentuation of the body. Just Khalai standing and listening to me in an instant after the rejection. You can't have real, honest BDSM without consent! "Thank you for the offer. It is greatly appreciated, but I must refuse."
Khalai, unlike Tira who instantly planned my death and overthrow after not being complimented on her beauty, nodded and withdrew cooly after my hopefully-subtle rejection.
Sorry, king, but I'm a boring guy who only likes ladies.
Specifically, in their late twenties and early thirties.
Before anything happens, it'll have to be ten years more for me, at the very least!
"I see, then welcome to the Citadel of the Wardens of the Caverns, King of Wisdom." I referred to Khalai by his title and now he returned to referring to me by mine. He smiled and gestured at the gates, which opened immediately. The ring controlling the Citadel was right on his hand, which made that easy enough. The familiar Citadel rose high into the sky before me. Much of the lands surrounding it was empty, save for a plot of land which held a massive building of multiple stories and made obviously of the same material of the Tower. That's their knowledge and production bonus for starting last. They knew what the Citadels can do and erecting structures between the Citadel and the outer walls was easy enough. "May your stay with us be pleasant, and may our people flourish together in these dark and troubled times."
I gave the man a nod and moved forward, followed by my guards and Riegert.
Everything was going well for now, but I was sure that wasn't going to stay the case.
3 years as the King of Wisdom, meaning twelve turns have passed, which meant that most wars were about to begin. Worse, the Academy was in play this time around. Their armies and banners will soon march to claim the continent as their own. The amount of blood that was going to be spilled in the next couple of years will threaten to drown the whole continent… if I didn't somehow stop them by making an alliance between me, the Conquerors, and the Wardens.
If that didn't deter the others, then at the very least, we'll be able to end the wars quickly and decisively with the three of us working together.
If, of course, I succeeded.