V4: Chapter 9:

…

If I were the Goblins, I'd quit the game and restart instead of trying keep going with the shitshow that they had going.

"My lord?"

"Just taking in the sights, let's keep moving."

"I see."

Ayah nodded and kept within reach of me, as I kept myself small and hidden amongst them. Well, as small and hidden as their pack-carrier could be. While Rita, Ilych, Ayah, Conquest, and Celia played the part of a wandering mercenary group, in different outfits and colors and armor than they usually wore, I was the camp tender following them with a donkey in tow laden with supplies.

There were loads of other tenders doing the same thing.

Small bands of mercenaries with highly-effective individuals hired people to tend to their camps while they travelled around. By my count, there were a bunch of other groups with camp tenders, with some groups having the start of wagon trains forming at their back. They reminded me of my second childhood in the warband, and I didn't like it one bit.

Mercenaries reeked of desperation tactics, and they honestly shouldn't be used to hold ground. They cost too much to upkeep, so the best way to use them was to throw them into the meatgrinder. You don't need to pay them, if they're dead, and if your Influence is high enough you can get them for free on the first turn… and get them killed as a destruction, so you don't have to pay for them the second turn.

Have some dignity and quit, especially if you're going to put up a shitty fight like this.

I mean, what's your endgame with all these slums, this crime rate, and focusing everything on industry to pump out units? Even if I pull everything out, even if you somehow win, you'll still lose in the midgame. There's no point in winning this war, if you're just going to lose the next one. Just give up, surrender, and fucking give me the guns and people and industry that I need to win the game! All you're doing is killing off your people, depleting the treasury that I could use, and ruining everything!

You have dirt roads surrounding slums covered in shit!

You're using your military to keep civil order!

Your people are dying of starvation on the streets!

Have a spec of self-respect, or a shred of shame, and just accept you've lost, dammit!

With that steaming in my head, I followed after the strike team that I hoped would end this farce before we had to go into a shitty siege that gets way too many people killed.

Yeah, I don't even care if I'm setting the precedent that Champions should be used as assassins.

This is a bullshit scenario cooked up by people who can't get their heads out of their asses.

I wouldn't entertain this situation with my attention or time, if I didn't need to.

Unfortunately, I needed to, so here I fucking am!

…

"You seem displeased." Khanrow met up with me in disguise as an old, hunchbacked crown. After he gave me the documents that we needed, we had a bit of time while the rest of the team finished up their distraction. Conquest was putting dudes arms through tables, Ayah and Ilych were getting a few dudes down to their underwear through dice, and Celia retired for the evening. Rita stayed close since she knew Khanrow was here. "I've heard that the Scholars have done some foolish things."

"They believe in survival at any cost. I'd applaud them if they did all this to win, but at this point it's just spite." I can't exactly convey my disdain for the sort of players who play poorly just to fuck over the rest of the game. If you're going to lose, at least lose with some dignity. Nope. Here and now, the Scholars were ruining chances for everyone else to win by not throwing in the towel. "What do you believe? Would you fight to the bitter end, or just surrender before all is lost in the return of the Ancient's foes?"

"Ah, I see. I see. That is true. It would be better to surrender and not risk the deaths of so many people who could work and fight. Not only that, but many things are at risk because of the war that the Scholars have decided to continue."

I was about to launch into a tirade, but I decided against it.

"No point in speaking about it any further. We simply need to do what needs to be done. How do we seize their Citadel?"

Khanrow nodded.

"They do not trust the Citadel and have not occupied it. Instead, they have fortified and housed themselves in the space between its outer walls and the structure itself." Okay, it looks like the Scholar's paranoia was working out for us. "However, they've been able to produce many, many Citadel Guardians. From my agents and my own's deductions, we've sighted over three hundred of them in constant patrols of four or more, always in quick reach of one another."

"They abandoned a defensible position, but created their own."

"Correct, one that I don't believe we can overcome with brute force." Khanrow provided another map and a quick glance at it revealed numerous patrol routes in different colors and dozens and dozens of pips. "Five minute intervals between each patrol. If you attack one, you must expect two to reinforce it from the same line within seconds and three from the line above and three from below. One patrol taken out means having to face nine squads of these Guardians at once… and their destruction alerts the others."

"Then, fighting the Citadel guardians is out of the question."

"Yes, but this strength is also their weakness."

"A distraction?"

"Correct. One that doesn't endanger our own troops and makes use of the populace in the surrounding slums."

Kill the guards, incite a riot, and have that riot distract hundreds of murder machines while an assassination team sneaks through.

It really sucks that it's actually a good way to save lives in the grand scheme of things.

Still, there were things that we could do to make it so that the riot turned into an inferno, which could only be put down with the Guardians.

"Put people in there in disguise to guide the riots and take up leadership positions. Make sure that a lot of them are armed. If you can find criminals, make sure that they know how to avoid the masses, so that they can cause their own problems." The policing infrastructure in this reality wasn't nearly as good as my world, and these tactics overwhelmed the boys-in-blue more often than not. "Get bandits from the outlying territories, too, but they should only come in once the chaos is set. Make sure that they're armed. How long do you think that will take?"

Khanrow contemplated for a moment before giving a swift, decisive nod.

"Give me five days."

I ran the numbers in my head.

"Our forces will arrive here in ten." I had the march slow down to conserve soldiers and build up supplies for the siege. It was a calculated risk. The Scholars got more preparation in, but so did I. "We can launch the riot two days before the army arrives. Make it seem like the population is cracking under the strain, and put the pressure on the Scholars to act quickly, too."

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"Aye, that sounds good."

The Scholars are pretty smart, but the trick to dealing with smart people is giving them problems that have terrible answers.

Alright, you disease-spreading, poison-spreading, and tech-fearing smartasses… I'm going to have an army at your city gates, riots in your city, and numerous criminal organizations pillaging your city in a few days.

How exactly are you going to stop the assassination team coming in at full speed straight for your upper leadership?

…

Interlude: Celia

…

The closer I was to him, the vaster the chasm was that lay between the two of us.

Upon arrival to the Scholar's city, a city not his own and where his identity was entirely secret, he made commands to his hidden agents… and within days the city began to change according to his will. The speed of the change was breakneck and terrifying. Seemingly overnight, the city went from sturdy and ready to withstand a siege, to simmering with rage at itself.

There was crime and poverty and unhappiness when we arrived, but there was an order to things.

An order that could be expected of a city when an army was nearing its gates.

The people were enduring, the military was stoic and ready, and the mercenaries were tense.

However, as his orders were carried out, the world began to change all around us.

The people began to gather around speakers that spoke of injustice and poverty and the plans of their elites to use them as fodder. Gatherings of the normal folk, not even the refugees, became electrified and spurred to action. The weapons that were being handed out disappeared within minutes of being offered into the vastness of the populace, even as the military began to notice and try to crack down.

The military, so stoic and controlled in the face of an impending siege, began to be overstretched, lose patience, and lose soldiers. Some abandoned their posts, others began to act to save their families, and a few joined the ranks of the dissatisfied. There were many who stayed true to their cause, who tried to do as they ordered, but they soon began to spill the blood of their kin and those they were meant to protect again and again.

Then, there were the criminals, already brazen to roam the streets. He armed them, spoke to them through intermediaries, and guided them. Though they had their own leaders and own insufferable ideals, they soon became puppets dancing to his strings. The information that he provided to them was too good to ignore, the riches they gained from following him to greatness, and soon they were all built under his command.

Some would say that his actions were unbefitting of nobility.

Yet, I would ask them, can they think of a single individual of noble lineage which who would not abandon everything for the power Jack used now.

Though the Scholars held the city, he held it soul within his hand, and he was ready to crush it.

And, all I could do was practice my bladework behind the home he'd gained access to with but a few words and some coin.

I knew that I could not compare with him, that I had to work and struggle to catch up, yet the chasm between him and I seemed to grow wider and wider the more time passed.

"Kel." My false name reached me and it came from Conquest. She had furred leather vest, her chest covered in white bindings beneath it, and large pants. "Care for a spar to clear your head?"

"Please." When she'd first asked me for a spar, I'd refused, but shortly after I agreed for the first time I'd found myself waiting for her. The Conqueror with the most auspicious name for their people was a fantastic warrior. "I would very much like to."

"Sometimes, it's better to just move rather than think." Conquest stated simply and went over to the rack beside the benches of the small townhome that was our domicile for the time being. "Whatever it is that you're thinking, ponder it no longer… and fight!"

There was no cry of starting the match, only a leap from the massive woman and a two handed strike with a wooden facsimile of a broadsword. The grass blew apart when she halted the swing before it hit the ground, and her false sword followed after my sidestep. If I blocked the blow, I would be sent flying even after catching it with my weapon, so I ducked beneath it and aimed a strike at her liver with my pommel.

Such a vicious blow would've stunned any Conqueror with pain.

It would gravely injure most.

Conquest merely gritted her teeth through it, brought her sword back over her head, and in an instant performed a downward strike.

Simple, yet with such speed and refinement that I was forced to block it and endure all her strength.

Even with a body meant for war, meant to be entering, and to endure across the ages, if fell to one knee just catching the blow and sliding it off my wooden blade. In a true battle, with steel against steel, my weapon's edge would be ruined by her attack.

Indeed, she did not fight solely with strength and power, but with guile and tactics.

Every strike since the first was planned, executed, and my movements predicted.

I learned from our first bout that fighting against her with my usual methods was a surefire method of defeat.

Since then, I have adapted.

Once more, I struck at her liver, past her green skin, and the firm layer of muscle above it. This time, however, it was not with the pommel of my wooden sword, but with my fist… at the same spot 'pierced' by my earlier blow.

This time, Conquest was unable to withstand the blow, fell to a knee, and I didn't hesitate to place my wooden blade's ruined edge against her neck.

She nodded in concession and I helped her up.

In a moment, the faint bruise forming over her weakness faded, as her regeneration kicked in.

There were no words that needed to be shared, only her nod of respect at my win and acknowledgement of my adaptation.

The only words she spared was uttered as she gazed eastward.

The flames of our coming army was like a second sun rising as the true sun set in west.

"It's time. Are you ready?" We both knew what was to happen now. This city was like a pot set to boil and its lid clamped shut. Its denizens were armed and organized. The criminals ready to steal and pillage. The army fatigued and dismayed after having to kill the people they were meant to protect again and again. "This evening, there will be little else besides rage and violence."

I was surprised as I felt… calm for the first time since I arrived in the city.

The moment was here.

It was no longer looming on the horizon.

The time has come for the city to burn, for its people to wreak havoc, and for us to decapitate the Scholars before they could unleash whatever they planned.

No more tricks.

No more delays.

No more fretting about what I lacked.

Only battle until only the victorious remained at its end.

"Aye, I feel ready."

As I said those words, the first explosions echoed across the city, and the night when the Scholars would fall began in earnest.