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V4: Chapter 8:

V4: Chapter 8:

In-game, poison is garbage. A complete meme. Could you win with it? Sure. Why would you subject yourself to that? Probably for fake internet points, or the sake of completion.

On paper, the damage is great, even in the late game. The damage is percentage based, meaning even the highest biological HP unit will go down to poison eventually. Technically, you can put a dot of poison on a T3 endgame, biological unit and just kite it until the end of time. However, you can't stack that dot, that dot can be removed by any medic/cleric/healing unit in the game automatically, and poison gives no debuffs.

An endgame unit that's going to die in ten minutes still has the DPS of an endgame unit.

Most Champions are also immune or resistant to poison, making applying it to them a worthless exercise, because it'll either do decimal points of damage or just not work.

Overall, my poison-only playthrough was awful and I resolved to never do it again.

I mean, I won, but it took too damn long and the cost was immense. Money, manpower, and municipalities were lost just to get that win. Something that I couldn't afford now.

However, now, I was confronted with a different issue.

Poison in real life was far, far more effective. Lore-wise, which meant in reality for my current state of existence, the various tiers of poison are absolutely horrific. It's chemical warfare augmented with magic and sci-fi technology. Damage-over-time modifiers that affect T3/Endgame units aren't just some sap or distillation of a plant's secretions. They're flesh-tearing, tumor-creating artificial viruses/microorganisms that are capable of traveling metaphysically to dampen your connection to magic, selectively erase memories of loved ones that can keep you fighting, and they kill you so hard that your next reincarnation's guaranteed to be an abortion.

In other words, that shit's real serious, and they're held back for fair and balanced gameplay reasons.

Y'know, like chemical weapons and bioweapons back in my old world.

But that's not the case in my current life.

Here and now?

I was in a world where chemical/biological warfare was going to go absolutely apeshit.

Yeah.

It's time to start my own Operation Paperclip and get these warcriminals on my payroll.

"Such malign weaponry bereft of honor, yet you desire the acquiring of their makers?" Conquest, naturally, was less than pleased with my announcement. "Are you not above such despicable tactics, King of Wisdom?"

"I've already told you once, but I'll say it again: for my people, I am willing to bear any sin and horror." We gathered all together in a tent. It was nighttime and the army was settling down for the evening. Well, a part of it was. Many people were patrolling and killing raiding parties. The din of battle around the main marching force was constant. Thankfully, the Undead were tireless and took up the nighttime security. A lot of people complained about the constant sound of rifles firing in the evening, but soldiers slept better whilst protected. "I advise your people to do the same. Every advantage we can get in the battles against the foes of the Ancients is a necessary one."

I'm dedicated to committing what would be considered war crimes back in my world.

The problem was convincing the factions on the 'good' end of the alignment chart to do the same.

"Victory at the cost of all that we hold dear and the virtues we aspire to?" Celia offered her own thoughts on the matter. Lady, you dig up graves to make walking musket turrets and use the corpses of flying small animals as munitions. The Vampire took note of my dry look her way, which was mimicked by many others present at the table. She cleared her throat and stood straighter. "I… I suppose that my people have little say in the matter."

"Poisons and disease are the weapons of the unjust and corrupted, King of Wisdom." Sirena provided her totally factual and not-at-all biased thoughts on the matter. You're really lucky that you're hot. Oh, and that I need Khalai's forces. That's important, too. Otherwise, I'd look for a way to get rid of you, because you make life hard… in multiple—dammit, being on the road means I don't have time to take care of my damn urges! "However, it is intent which turns tools into instruments of justice and faith. My people will look towards using these weapons against foes such as those faced by our ancestors, but we shall never use it against mortals… even the likes of the Scholars."

Huh, 1 for 3, and it's the religious fanatic faction that's willing to coat their blades in poison and disease to use against the apocalypse.

A better result than I expected in all honesty.

"Then, with that aside, we need to consider what we can do against the Scholars. We're not just heading into a siege, but a siege where the enemy is entrenched and willing to use poison-based warfare. Even with all our forces, there will be many casualties. I can't be everywhere at once." The Staff of Cleanse could deal with the poison. In-game, you could cast it during battle over hundreds of soldiers at once in a massive circle. Its range was massive here too, but battlefields weren't constrained by player patient and system requirements here. I couldn't reasonably heal everyone of poison. Even if I tried to, people will die before I get to them. "I have an idea, but it carries great risk. I hope that you would all led me your ears."

Glances were shared amongst those gathered.

Celia, Conquest, and Sirena were the relevant authorities of the allied armies present with my token force. Mine was largely skirmishers, logistical personnel, and some people who could hold ground against cavalry. I mean, I was here to solve the events, but if any of them said no, then there wasn't much I could do.

"If you hesitate to say it, then it must truly be a terrifying idea and a great risk." Celia shook her head, but remained at the table. Thanks Imperial-revivalist vampire princess, I appreciate your vote of confidence. "I am willing to hear you out, if only to end this war with as few casualties as possible."

"With risk comes glory, and I asked you myself to give my people the chance to pay righteously for the prize we are to take. Speak and I shall listen." Conquest gave a nod and crossed her arms. Kyaa, how cool! No, that wasn't sarcastic at all. Conquest is just great.

"The Wardens have faith in you, King of Wisdom. Doubt shall not cloud our hearts and minds. Say what needs be done, and it shall be done." Sirena was the one I was sure would agree to me without hesitation and I wasn't surprised when she did. After a small bow, she raised her head. "All that fall in your service shall be martyrs who will be praised by all."

Man, I really shouldn't make plans that rely on religious fanatics in any capacity, but I couldn't afford the luxury of choice.

"As you all know, a coup was attempted on the Citadel that I now hold. My rule over my lands came when Lord Khanrow gave me his ring and trust. The tales say he died valiantly in battle against many, but such is not the case. Those who tried to take the Citadel were few… Champions and the finest warriors of his army." I lied through my teeth. Even the kernels of truth that were suppose to be in the lie were created by Khanrow to mislead and hide his existence. Everyone believed it, and even now it was the 'start' of my story, which was pervasively flooding through the whole continent. "I suggest that we do the same. Infiltrate their lands with the finest warriors we have, then strike at the Citadel and steal it from them before either of our armies clash."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Underhanded, yet bold and brave at the same time." Conquest was the first to provide her opinion on the matter. For the first time since we encountered the disease-carrying kids, she seemed content and satisfied. This was something that she understood. "It will be a battle of Champions against Champions forced upon the Scholars, despite their lack of honor and tactics. The war plan has my support."

"The risk is immense. If we are trapped in the Citadel, if any of us perish, our people will be at grave risk. Each of us holds great weight amongst our peoples, and there is no chance of our bodies being recovered for the sake of resurrection." Celia provided her concerns, but she nodded after stating them. "But it is better than a prolonged siege against insidious foes. Who knows how far the Scholars would take their futile struggle, after all that they have done? This risk is worth taking, if only to forestall any crazed actions made by them. I approve."

Sirena bowed her head my way as a sign that the plan has her support.

Alright then.

Plan: just fuck the Scholar's shit up with power-levelled Champions from four different factions is go.

Interlude: Khanrow

Desperation.

Despair.

Death.

All these things permeated the Scholars' Citadel.

The streets were teaming and clogged with bodies. Refugees lined the walls of buildings trying to peddle anything for a scrap of bread. Some sold their bodies, others what little precious things they had left, but it was all the same. They were dishevelled, forgotten, and dying on the streets in droves, while the Scholars' turned their Citadel solely into a factory for war.

The everlasting gardens within churned out poisonous plants or hemp for rope or wood for the sake of fortifications. All the food it produced only went to soldiers, and many times they were dosed with medicines from the machines that created medicines. Scholar soldiers were growing rapidly, some breaking limbs with ease even as they grew in stature and strength, while their citizenry starved.

The foundries churned out weapons and armor, while buildings that were shoddily created crumpled and killed those who sought shelter within them. Nothing was spared to repair wagons that lay broken in the streets for days, or to repair pipes that cracked due to increased use, or even fixing the gears of wells. Everything was for the sake of war.

The various eyes that the Citadel had were turned outward instead of in, allowing agents such as myself to walk in the streets with all the other refugees. The fact that I was not a Scholar, that I was one of a scattering of other races should've meant that I would be watched, but the few times I tested it… none came to try and find and arrest me. Opportunists teamed the streets, entire tribes of them, and they killed and stole as they pleased with only cullings by military forces keeping them in check.

The Scholars were dying, their nation a rotting corpse, and their struggle was only causing needless suffering for their people.

And, if I did not do my duty correctly, they would spread that suffering to my people, too.

I turned into an alley as soon as I felt a message slip into my pocket and I read its contents.

After memorizing it, I ate it, and went on to do what I needed to do.

An assassination attempt within the Scholars Citadel using the combined might of all the Champions present in the coming army.

Jack intended to risk everything to slit the throat of this dying nation.

I approved.

So, I moved through the shadows of the land towards my destination, hunching over my back as I re-entered the streets. I also turned my cloak inside out, and took a stick to use as a walking cane. One man entered the alley, covered in rags, and out the other side came forth a hunchbacked beggar using a cane.

I opened my ears and listened.

The cries of children and the silent struggling of parents swaddling them in rags.

The muted and desperate steps of those heading to work to do anything to forestall the inevitable.

Then, finally, the sound of chain armor.

Mercenaries from all over the continent were coming here, not only promised gold, but weapons from the Citadel's forges. The Scholars were arming future banditry with blades that could cut through all but steel plate and armor that would allow them to wade into peasant villages with little fear. In their desperation, they were poisoning the future, too.

Still, I followed after them to secure entry.

Soon enough, I was in earshot of two young men, both with bandages on their arms, as they made their way towards an inn.

"—surely, you're not actually thinking of leaving, right?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I? This place is a death trap! We both nearly died on what was supposed to be a patrol! These Scholars are using us as meat shields!"

"But the weapons and the money—

"Neither will be of any use with me dead!"

Even their mercenaries were losing spirit, despite the promises and payments made.

I followed them, watching them, as they made their way past a checkpoint where no refugees were allowed past.

A guard looked at me, but I palmed a coin into his hand, and he looked away as I followed them.

The streets were clearer here, but they were little better. The air still stank of sewage, the streets were filled with trash, and many doors and windows bore scratches or had broken panels. The houses were built sturdy here, and they got sturdier as the walls around the Citadel grew closer. These were not homes, but fortifications. They intended to fight from house to house.

Jack's decision was rapidly becoming the only correct course of action I could imagine.

The two mercenaries entered an inn, and after I changed into a more stately appearance with a shortsword obvious on my hip and armor more noticeable, I entered after them as one of their own kin.

I spied my target as I walked to the barkeeper and ordered ale.

There was a Scholar surrounded by guards in the corner of a room, arguing with a heavily-injured mercenary and his companions.

His remaining companions.

I spied on the Scholar's table sheets of permits, many the same the mercenaries used to entire past the military checkpoint, but there was a gleaming, white crest on his lapel that caught my attention. It was the same which the walls of the Citadel dispensed from its gate posts, which allowed entry past the walls.

That would be my target.