V3: Epilogue

…

Money is a tool, a resource, which needs to be used to have worth.

Having it hang around doing nothing is stupid.

Money should make you more money.

Money should give you more troops.

Money should build you the assets that you need.

Money can be used for good.

Money can be used for evil.

However, in the end, the important part is that having a massive amount of money doing nothing only gives you a worthless number in the upper left corner of your screen. Money that's not in use, is money that isn't training units, isn't improving tiles, isn't building structures or wonders, and isn't funding armies.

In short, it's worthless if you don't use it.

Sure, if you're finishing up the game with a massive treasury while rolling everyone, it gives you style points… but you need to spend money to get to that level first.

Everything that I've been doing needs a lot of money, even after the investments, and everything should cripple my economy if I only had one Citadel and one Region. But I didn't have just one. The region that formerly belonged to the Children of the Elm (Elves) was now online with a Merchant of the Marshlands Champion leading the region to boot.

He could do a lot of things, but I went with the old rule of setting his goals to three, so that he could be more productive. I didn't know if it worked the same as the game, but I wasn't about to lose another advantage. He could give more production, more population, more food, more places to train troops from, more tile improvements, but I had him on: more money, more money, aaannnnnddd more money.

They stack.

You'd think the amount of money I wanted to squeeze out would be ludicrous, and that in reality what I asked for shouldn't stack, however… I just gave an incredibly amazing businessman a whole region, a whole Citadel, then, I told him he didn't have to worry about funding, food, security, and shelter. Finally, I gave him the goal of making stupid amounts of money, give him the right to cross borders, use my reputation, and call on me for any challenges that popped up ahead of him.

Yeah.

I gave that all to a Merchant Champion.

Needless to say: Capitalism go brrrr.

…

"We are… neither making money or losing money."

"Perfect." I was tempted to celebrate, pop open some wine, and drink. The little city-state I was making took ridiculous amounts of cash and labor. According to Ayah's estimates, I could've built another continent-spanning transportation system with all that money, or an entire stack of military units capable of putting the hurt on someone. Instead, it went into making Academy 2: Academy Harder. "How are things going there?"

I had to relocate back to the Citadel after a few weeks onsite doing spot-checks and laying the groundwork. Once the workflow was set up, and I got people who could read and follow directions onsite, I just let the process work itself out. Problems arose, naturally, but they went up the chain of command and I only dealt with a few of them, while the rest were filtered through the officials instated therein. By all accounts, Academy-2 was having teething issues just like any other city, but things were progressing and that was all that I could ask for them to do.

Besides, they had bars, they had money flowing in for them to earn, beds, and no issues with food or running water.

Even if I was technically occupying their land, they should be at 2 Happiness or something.

But that's beside the point.

"The city-state is expanding and now claiming nearby farmland. The firestorm has abated and the rivers are starting to run clear. The first culling of monsters is set to begin. The Conquerors, Guardians, and the Wardens have offered their support… on the basis that they have districts in what we have established." Ayah read off the report, while I contemplated a bottle of wine on a nearby tray with some glasses and snacks. It wasn't even my physical age stopping me. It was the fact that some random events led to Champions developing alcoholism and that trait having the chance to get someone killed outright because they lost focus and got assassinated. Getting drunk sounded fun, but dying because I'm drunk? Yeah. Not good. "The Merchants have moved in from their entrance, as have the Forgers, and they are establishing themselves… poorly."

"They tried to do the same but forgot they didn't have a whole other region making tons of money." Sarala, the Merchant Champion that guided the Children's former region and Citadel, was doing exactly what I expected of his archetype in-game. No military production buildings, no research production buildings, and no culture buildings. Just exploiting resource tiles, building workshops to help produce happiness-increasing buildings and expand, and sending out trade caravans in every direction to anyone willing. He sent me letters asking for my involvement, which I recognized as money-making events, and I gave him the right answers and courses of action, so that we kept getting more money. His letters have gotten more and more deferring and reverent over the last couple months, so I took that as a sign that I proved myself to him. "Give them plots to use and send expeditions from that are near the city. Keep them away from one another and make sure they have their own sources of water and food. No sharing required."

"Understood." Ayah wrote out my requirements with precision, and then paused. I looked up at the Ancient Golem. That was not normal. "I have finished calculating the number of years we have left before we see movement from the Ancient's foes."

Right, I had Ayah on that.

It wasn't some sort of magical sensor net, but rather feeding it the information on the current rate of economic growth that all the factions were currently undergoing. Crises arrived on two conditions: a turn limit was reached, or if the average economy of all the factions hits a threshold. I gave Ayah the reasoning that the enemy will attack us before we get our bearing, before we could drown them in manpower and industry, and that was enough to have the black-haired Golem agree to put a lot of its processing power behind the calculations and read through all of the information we had on the other factions and ourselves.

"Hit me with it."

"We have three years at most. Two at the least."

"Not great, but not terrible." I was quick to respond. That was about what I expected from my own experience and understanding of the situation. "We'll be able to recover from the Famine, at least, before we start seeing them all come along."

I hoped that Ayah would just nod and agree with my statement, but it shook its head.

"Not with the loss of the Academy fields. We are farming at this very moment and conquering as much as we can, but it will not be enough." I had hoped that wasn't the case. I'd hoped that establishing the fortified city would make things a bit easier and counter-act the issue. Well, actually, I'd also hoped that enough people died that there'd be enough food for everyone. Looks like that wasn't the case. "If we had not moved and entered the Academy lands to save—

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"That wasn't an option." I waved aside the statement Ayah was set to make. I was sure that the Ancient Golem ground out those numbers without any issue. Agonizing over mistakes was only going to waste time. No. After hearing that the famine's aftereffects weren't going to abate before the first stages of the coming crises arrived, there was only one course of action left: I needed a third Citadel, and the Scholars were reviled by the whole continent and lost their trump card. "We need to hold a meeting with everyone willing to ally with us. The Scholars caused this mess, therefore they'll be the ones to pay for it."

The Scholars were cornered and had no other option after they were set up to take the fall and betrayed by the Academy with everyone else waiting to third-party them.

Some would say that they did what they needed to do in order to survive… but Ayah wasn't the type to lie and it crunched the numbers.

If I didn't take another Citadel and get the automatic technology unlocks form having three Citadels, then we're all going to get fucked. If we're going to be still weakened by the famine, I needed the weapons, armor, and technologies provided by the Ancients. Even if it meant making myself the biggest target on the continent, and with all my allies becoming temporary, I have no choice in the matter.

Between dying in the next five years or having to fight everyone and standing above them all with a military victory in ten, the choice was easy.

War it is.

After softening up the enemy as much as possible, naturally.

A fair fight?

With my life and many, many of my citizenry's lives on the line?

Fuck that, I'm going to cheat.

…

Interlude: Riegert

…

"Captain."

"Gunther. Oswald." I peered through the darkness and met their gaze in the dim darkness. "Fire."

"Ember." Gunter gave his code.

"Ash." Oswald replied with his.

I relaxed and nodded again at them, as I got off the boat. The moon's shine was dimmed by light clouds and even the stars seemed to glimmer less this evening. My soldiers came off the boat and put down the stakes to moor them to the shoreline.

In the dead of night, at the height of summer, the winds blew across the forest and the lake from which I came… and Gunther and Oswald both gave signals and the boundary between forest and lake came alive. More than five hundred men gathered in the heart of the enemy's land. Gunther's arrived quietly in the night from the air. Oswald was snuck through refugee caravans traveling through Scholar lands. Finally, me and my men floated from Academy lands towards this lake.

The lands between the Academy and the Scholars were ravaged by war and the destruction of the Academy left the land a barren waste, as the armies of the Academy ravaged all within their reach.

The chaos of what came after the Academy was shattered allowed us to reach the heartland of the Scholars.

Where we were to do as we used to do.

"The towns?"

"Hittin' Gretchen tonight, Captain."

"Hilburn for me."

"That leaves Sera for me and mine, then." Gunther and Oswald's men travelled lightly, but mine travelled on the river with boats attached to their own. We covered the tops with leaves and even made them seem like logs floating downriver. Our forces snuck through the barren, desolate lands and arrived here to deliver our fellows their weapons. Sheathed swords, axes, and maces were aplenty, but most of all there were boxes and boxes filled with jars of a fearsome composition that Jack had headed the creation of. Glass bottles filled with lantern oil, sap, and a substance from the Citadel's foundries. A pure white substance as light as air, easily crushed and broken apart, which melted into the oil… and made the flame nearly inextinguishable. "You read up on the weapons?"

"…Aye, captain. They sound terrifying." Oswald confessed and Oswald looked perturbed as the boxes were brought forward and their assigned men came forth. Each box had another within that lay in wood shavings. The substance was trapped in a light coating of wax and glass. The method of ignition was the latest variant of gunpowder composed by the alchemists that Jack had hard at work. With the pull of the safety needle, a wick that would last thirty seconds will come alight within, and after those seconds passed it would explode, set the substance within alight, and send flame and shrapnel in every direction. "If they're half as deadly as you say…"

"They're twice as deadly. Tell all your men to never be within twenty arm lengths of one and to always throw it near the ground and never uphill. This substance is vengeance in its purest form." A carcass of a horse had been used to test the weapon. It cost more to make a single, good steel knife, but this weapon was far more fearsome. The carcass and its surroundings had come alight. It burned and burned like cursed flame, and it sloughed and stuck to flesh and bone and hide with ease. I watched a whole horse burn unceasingly, and when water was poured over it… some flames lingered atop the water. "Use them to destroy granaries, warehouses, and workshops. Do not use them against enemies. It will kill any normal mortal with ease."

I doubted my ability to survive a single one of the weapons going off of me, despite all my prowess and all my artifacts.

I did not wish to test myself against this fearsome 'napalm.'

"Understood, Captain." Gunther cleared his throat and gestured at the brightening sky. The clouds had parted and we could see one another in the moonlight with ease. "Shall we move?"

"Aye, it's time to move. Once the villages are hit and all the weapons are used, we will retreat here and we will be retrieved." Before dawn even arrived, we were going to be flying away from here. The boats were set to be burned after all the men and supplies were unloaded. One evening and we will burn down three villages… and Rita and Ilych were both leading their own groups of three. This singular evening, as a declaration of war, nine villages and all they had were going to burn. Their inhabitants forced to flee and multiply the mouths that the Scholars must feed in their core settlements. "See you all in the afternoon."

"Yes, captain."

"Captain!"

I gave them both one last look… and found no trace of fear in their eyes. All I saw was the determination to see the job done. Such was the case of all those who Jack had called upon just a few weeks ago, when he told us all what needed to be done, so that the Scholar's actions would not kill hundreds of thousands more after burning the Academy.

After all these years of relative peace, it was once again time for war.

We hadn't asked for war, we had sought out peace, but our hand is now forced.

And, for their actions, the Scholars shall reap what they have sown.