V3: Chapter 7:

…

Rita, Ilych, Riegert, Khanrow, Ayah, and Sarala.

Well, technically, Ayah was a bonus more than a Champion in the game, but it was doing a great job so I figured that it counted.

Still, six champions at this stage of the game was good. They picked me up when I was 11 and now I'm 15. 4 turns a year, so this is turn sixteen with a 2nd Citadel and 6 Champions. Overkill for hard mode, but with everyone perfectly using their cooldowns, using strategy correctly, and being actual people, the difficulty mode was definitely on maximum settings. Oh, of course, there was also the fact that we were going to get hit with all the in-game crises.

So, six Champions and two Citadels at turn sixteen was really just scraping by from my estimates.

At the very least, everyone was doing their job and things were going as planned.

Even if Ayah was doubting me.

The Ancient Administrator was brought in as a disguised replacement for one of the guards to deliver top secret reports, she and I conversed in another outing from beyond the Warden Citadel's surveillance range. All the hunting outings I did were slowly getting me used to riding a horse, which will be useful if things go sour.

"Why do you insist on social reforms and defensive planning? The territory that we hold is too large to hope to hold. It is necessary to create reserves and mobilization plans, as well as a perimeter that protects our logistical operations." In theory and in the lower difficulty levels, that'll work. However, it was a prolonged suicide in the current settings. I just needed to get Ayah to understand the fact without seeming crazy and using game terms. Also, it was a lot easier to talk to it when it pretends to be a dude covered in armor, even if the still-female voice threw me off. "Why put effort towards community management and health and culture of all things?"

I kept quiet and did my best to not just spurt out gaming terminology, while doing my best to convert the words into actual speech.

It took a second, but I managed to do it.

"The conflict that lies ahead is one that will be prolonged. As of now, our people are not yet united and happy. We need to bind them together, otherwise they'll break apart and splinter under pressure." The biggest threshold that any player in the current scenario needed to surmount was to get to a certain Happiness level. It didn't matter if you had the armies to stop the enemy, or could stop them at your borders, when your population is going crazy, rioting, and it becomes impossible to be produce and research. "My goal is to create a culture of resistance against the coming threats. Before guarding the mind and body, we must work on guarding the spirit, so that we have the will to fight."

When your people are happy and willing to fight for that happiness, the enemy suffers greater attrition rates in your territory, you get more powerful militia units, and your troops take less upkeep and have nigh-unbreakable morale. Happy people are people willing to fight tooth and nail for every inch of land that they have and give up their lives for that land. Unhappy people falter, break, and leave you with a floundering economy and industrial base while the enemy bears down on you.

Before you can make it about 'us vs. them' you need to make sure that the 'us' in the scenario has a life that they want to protect to really make them fight hard.

Ayah looked straight ahead in silence after my words, but soon enough it nodded its helmed visage.

"I see. I overlooked the fact that your people are only recently united and that more could be done to further ensure that they remain vigilant and guarded." I nodded and did my best to look imperious and regal. Fake it until you make it, right? "So, once the groundwork has been laid, we will be reinforcing our lands?"

"Correct. Underground supply lines. Depots. Mandatory civil service. Reinforced shelters. Self-sufficient fortresses. Everything." After making sure that the people don't go crazy with all the doom and gloom bearing down on them, the correct play was to make every inch of territory a living hell. Four crises, one in each direction and even one spawning right in the center of the map, meant that every direction needed to be defended. A rifle behind every blade of grass my goal, but I liked the thought of a field cannon hidden in every hillside sounded better. Every pass, every bridge, and every road was going to be pre-sighted, if possible. Switzerland's defenses with the Soviet Union's mass-conscription strategy. Man, I wish I can spam tanks. Hm. Maybe, I can? If I set the factories up right away, refine the process asap, and make Ayah streamline the production effort more, it might work. Hm, maybe. "I assure you. Both Citadels will be protected, and people will flock to us. Then, we'll make use of them to further increase our production."

I was ready for Ayah to agree and nod, but the Ancient Administrator suddenly leapt at me and tackled me off my horse.

A second later my horse turned into red mist and half of the horse that Ayah had been riding turned into red mist, too.

Damn, I was starting to like Thomas.

Ayah caught me in its arms and landed on its feet. A second later we were in the thicket, while horns resounded across the forest, as my mages detected that attack magic had been used.

In a few minutes, all my guards were going to converge on my position, especially as Ayah seamlessly threw up a burst of magic into the air to mark our position.

The problem was if we had a few minutes, especially with the firepower that we faced.

So, I didn't waste time and spread out my senses.

Closing my eyes, deadening and ignoring my other senses, I briefly saw and heard and felt nothing… and then I 'felt' the magic in the air. It was like a light breeze that pervaded every direction. I couldn't compare to mages with inherent talent, or even those who diligently practiced every day, but blasting apart a horse and half of a horse into chunky salsa left a 'trail' in the 'breeze' that even I could spot.

"At least ten meters ahead and two others. Go and kill them. Now!"

I made the decision to risk everything on Ayah, instead of having it run away with me, and I regretted it for a moment as it dropped me.

Then, that moment ended, as it complied and all but banished with a burst of speed that shook fresh leaves off the tree I'd been concealed behind and nearly threw me aside.

Right.

Ayah's chassis was Ancient construction.

A second passed, there was the faraway noise of a shrill scream and panicked yells, but nothing more after another second.

I put two and two together.

If a mage didn't take out someone with the physical abilities of a Champion when they're in knife-fighting range, it only takes a few seconds.

I dusted off the leaves, did my best to pay no attention to the half-of-a-horse on the ground, and waited.

Ayah appeared a moment later, borrowed armor covered completely in blood, and with gauntleted hands covered in viscera and shards of bone slinking down on trails of thick blood. I took a glance at the direction of the fighting, while it scanned me down for injuries, even while I preemptively already started casting healing spells on myself. On the road ahead of us, there were parts and pieces of people strewn about like ripped apart pieces of paper on puddles or sprays of blood.

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Despite being seemingly made of moving stone, Ayah was practically a terminator and one that used its hands to rip through people, not just throw them around.

Still, there was only one question on my mind.

"Who sent them?"

Ayah shook its head and I sighed.

Dammit.

I needed to contact Khanrow, because he's the only one who can get to the bottom of this… and start working on preventing future ones.

This was just the first of many.

…

Interlude: Riegert

…

Assassination attempts were once a mark of honor. A statement that you've become so dangerous that others would try to slip a knife in your back, rather than try to fight you head on. After the first, you're given more credibility and all those who meet you flinch at your presence. People respect you after you survive and that respect grows with every passing day.

Some men would even celebrate and drink at the attempt on their leader's life, as they know that their warband will command more prestige and respect across the continent.

That wasn't the case now.

Gunther's brow was creased and so was Oswald's as I entered the room.

"That bad?" Both of the men were bald. Gunther was the older of the two and more composed, while Oswald seemed antsy and only relaxed upon my entry. For a second, I thought he only he lost his nerve, until I realized that Gunther's side of the table had imprints of his fingers on them. Both were poring over a map of the incident. The assassination attempt on Jack. "I see. Neither of you could've known. It's fine."

Both opened their mouths to argue, maybe even accuse each other, but I held up my hand.

"The three assassins were inserted into the ground weeks ahead of schedule. Not only that, but we just checked three other hunting ground. We found five more cells and captured their inhabitants." If they were younger men, I'd tear them down to ingrain their failure into their heads. But I knew them both and it was obvious that they were tearing themselves up over their failure already. My duty here was to build them back up. "It's new. It's innovative. Above all else, it's clever as hell and no one saw it coming. Neither of you are to blame. Protocol was followed and the redundancies in place worked."

"Captain…"

"But…"

"If you have complaints about it, tell our King, because that's what he's decided on. We're going to do our best to counter it, prepare for other avenues, and improve." I looked them both dead in the eyes. One after the other. It took them time to control themselves, but they did. I nodded. Good. They hadn't lost their nerve and they remembered how to redirect their anger into something productive. I took out the paper provided by Jack. "We're implementing new protocols. Train the anger out of yourselves and beat the anger out of your troops too. If they have time to brood and hate, they have time to learn and adapt. Anger is power. Use it."

I added a little phrase at the end that Jack used when I broached the topic of how to quell his soldiers' self-loathing at failing him.

As I expected, it worked wonders. The simple turn of phrase made something 'click' in both Oswald and Gunther, and they seized the papers with newfound determination.

"Leave it to us, Captain."

"We won't let you down."

"Got it, I'll see you two later." I gave them both nods and left… moving towards the barracks where the men were.

If their two leaders were like this, with all their experience and power, I knew the younger generation, filled with so much promise and pride, would need my help.

And, I was more than willing to give it.

…

I walked back into the room with Gunther and Oswald, both pouring over the information we were provided by Jack, and I put down another sheet of papers.

"Captain?" Gunther raised a brow, while Oswald peered at the stack. "Are those from the men?"

"Indeed. I though that they'd be moping around, but they were using their heads instead." My words made both my fellows shudder, and so did I. Good. There was some sanity in the world left. "They had a few ideas on how to stop something like this from happening again."

"How many of those ideas involved storming every Citadel and killing anyone who might think our King would oppose them in the future?"

"I got rid of them already, but only a few were like that." I grunted and separated them into sheets. I'd thought Jack had been joking when he told me to ask the troops about simple methods to solve the problem. Most soldiers I worked with didn't know how to read, write, or do anything besides follow orders and use their weapons. It was different now. Jack's suggestion brought results. "Most came to suggest a new patrol scheme and doing something different to get privacy outside of the Warden's ears."

"…A good solution for sure, if the King would listen." Gunther grunted, and I nodded. Jack would. In fact, he already told me to search for other venues to speak more easily with one another. "What else did they suggest?"

"How to get the prisoners to talk." I gingerly looked over those papers. Some tactics were just malicious, but some were cleverer. "A few were former hunters apparently. Ones that fought goblins. They told me that we could feign an escape for one or two of those we captured, so that they might be able to lead us to their friends."

That was the sort of plan that Khanrow would dream up. Not something a common soldier would think of.

Or, so I had thought, until I spoke to Jack's new soldiers.

"That can work. We have plenty to interrogate already and if we go too far, we can ask the Wardens to revive them." Oswald spoke easily about torturing a man to death and bringing him back for revenge. I never though he'd suggest it… or that both Gunther and I would hardly blink at the words. I just accepted the cruelty as a matter of fact, as long as we got what we wanted. "How do you think we can do it?"

"A transfer back to our home, but a staged 'bandit' attack which leads to the ones we chose escaping and being tracked." Gunther suggested. And, once again, I was surprised. It was another idea that I'd think would come from Khanrow, yet it came from a 'mere' veteran of the original warband. "What do you think, Captain?"

I think… that I need to start learning once more, before I found myself outstripped by the 'common' soldier and officer of Jack's army.

"It's good. Work on it."

So, not only were they strong and hungry for prestige, but clever and conniving too.

This new army was truly something that the continent hadn't seen since the Ancients fell.