V6: Chapter 11
…
Generally speaking, you can tell you’re winning against a crisis, if the crisis in question isn’t breaking through your defenses, raiding your improved tiles, and sieging your cities. Extra points if your armies stay over 80% health after each engagement with them. The rough idea is that as long as you can produce units, as long as you’re only taking damage to your military sections, then you’re good because in the game those things can be produced and sent to the front without issue as long as you’ve got the infrastructure set up.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in this world… and I had to admit the fact that I was wrong about the Iterants not being a good Ancient Wonder to get.
I’d go as far as to say anything short of the top three options, I’d have been fucked without them.
The Iterants were proving to be a great holding force. Yeah, I know. It’s a big surprise that loads of tough shapeshifting, replicating magical robots can hold the line better than flesh and blood.
In my defense, in-game, the Ancient Wonder just gave you a shitty event chain that might result in an AI rebellion if you do things wrong and increased population throughout your territory. All the lore about Iterants being in your armies, taking on labor jobs, and generally becoming part of society through the right choices in their event chain, which required spending money, influence, and resources to get the best ending for, wasn’t faithfully replicated in the game.
No changes for unit models, no better stats for your units, and in-game pops ballooned to gigantic proportions in the late game.
Therefore, the Iterants were considered a horrible Ancient Wonder and worth restarting the game over, if you got them.
However, in my current life, all that lore was in full affect and the Iterants were on the field and wrecking house.
“The Iterants are doing far better than expected.” There were whole units of them deployed out there, separate from the other mortals. It took a while, but I massed them into proper unit numbers. 1000 Iterants with all the support that they needed to wage ware. Their supply lines were much lighter. They needed less of everything that a soldier needed, but I gave it to them to make sure they’d stay loyal and have nothing to complain about. I rotated them out just like everyone else, made sure they were fed, gave them the same assignments as others, and used them like ordinary soldiers… and they excelled. “In fact, I may consider your advice to focus on having them replace the whole army.”
“I advise against that. They’re not to be trusted.” Ayah all but spat the words out, but grimaced as it considered the successes of the troops in question. They’re a bunch of soldiers that can rip apart most monsters with their bare hands and break down the likes of Ogres and Trolls with perfect synchronicity. With some time and materials, they repaired themselves with ease, and rotating them around for rest and mental health just had them grumble about being ready for more combat. Wherever a concentrated force of them went, there were only victories for my people. “The Ancients once trusted models such as them before. These ones have been refined and appear loyal, but that can change with time. Whole armies of them would be a mistake.”
Ayah served tea and biscuits to me as I sat beneath a large parasol on a folding lounge chair. After the last couple days were spent in the command room, I decided it was time for a bit of an excursion for me and my officers. We had a little get together in a meadow close to our fortified settlement. Most people were unwinding around drinks, food, and entertainment, while I just enjoyed working beneath a clear blue sky instead of under a low roof.
It’s the little things that make life worth living.
Anyway, I ‘graced’ my soldiers and officers with my presence for a bit before secluding myself in my private tent surrounded by guards when the entertainment arrived. Once the music started flowing, so did drinks, and so there was a good time going on over there. I was out of the way and out of mind, so they just enjoyed themselves, while I did the same with a few more reports in hand.
“The results speak for themselves, and I trust that our fair treatment of them and the changes made to them by the Ancients will keep them loyal. I don’t see why they wouldn’t stay loyal. They are afforded all the same rights, receive similar pay, and they are allowed to rise through the ranks.” Ayah was hard to convince regarding the Iterants. I understood why. These guys made up the bulk of the AI rebellion that the Ancients faced. They were treated well back then too, but looked to take over anyway. The lore ranged from them just wanting power to them wanting to control the Ancients’ lives to keep them safe completely and utterly. Whatever happened, they turned into bad guys, and if those who survived won they’ll be turning us into brains in jars unable to die for their own satisfaction. “I am sure the Ancients treated them well, too. However, these new Iterants know of the mistakes of their forebears and they have been altered so that will never happen again. Can we afford to not use all their strength, Ayah?”
Ayah grimaced at my words and shook its head.
“We have need of them, but they are best separated and not allowed to congregate in such numbers.” Ayah insisted, and I sighed and nodded.
“I’ll keep that in mind, then. However, if it saves lives and makes our victory more probable, I will do what needs to be done.” Ayah’s grimace deepened, but she nodded at the end. This wasn’t a compromise. However, it didn’t look like this was something it would rebel against me for. No. There was too much at stake for that now. “How goes our acquisitions from the Merchants?”
“They have begun changing their methods to produce as you predicted. Restructuring has taken place and consolidation is occurring.” The Merchants had several tricks up their sleeves to produce money. Cultural and technological development in that faction all stemmed around making more capital and increasing production. The meta for the faction was that if you’re not pumping out armies every turn from every place that could produce it by buying them outright, then you’re playing them wrong. Production is just for making buildings that increase the viability of chaff units, like military academies or armories in Military Districts. They bury enemies under ‘good enough’ units and buy hordes of them… they need time to do that, though. “By my estimates, they’ll be able to field armies in support of us within a year.”
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“Not good enough. Keep the pressure on them to send us money. They won’t be able to help, if we don’t keep gouging them.” They didn’t have the institutional knowledge to mass produce soldiers. Hell, they haven’t even properly reverse-engineered the guns I’ve allowed to flow all over the continent. They barely have muskets, and they’re not even close to the bolt actions we’re developing now. Soon, we’re going to have semi-automatics or even submachine guns from our research on the guns produced by the Citadel and they’ll be operating off of garbage. “Do you think it’s worth keeping them around?”
Ayah crunched the numbers with closed eyes for a moment before shaking its head.
“The Merchants are swift and capable of changing, but the benefits they offer are wasted. They have proven themselves incapable of seeing beyond short-term profit. Their industries and production only benefit themselves if they are not controlled and directed.” Ayah stated simply, and I agreed with a nod.
The Merchants of the Marsh are basically a few dozen corporations/guilds in a trench coat pretending to be a nation. Their goal is to become the economy, and their ending is a joke. They’re supposed to create a massive enough economy that no one else can compete and they’ll buy out all the Citadels through an unlocked Diplomatic option. They literally can’t win their special victory unless the AI are brain dead and agree to sell their seats of power. After that, somehow, they bind the world together with trade and force until the planet is an arcane-cyberpunk setting with them at the top.
Ridiculous, I know.
You can barely deal with regular humans diplomatically when they’re on an even playing field you with.
You expect me to believe that having lots of money and firepower will stop literal cannibals, flesh-shapers, mind-controlling freaks, and more from not trying to kill you?
I’d sooner believe that Khalai’s capable of dressing without the intention to seduce.
“Put the pressure on them, then. We’ll take all that we can short of breaking them. When they’re there. We’ll give them room to think and consider their position. If we can take them peacefully, we should.” At this point, I couldn’t ignore the fact that I was halfway to my goal of taking all the Citadels. In-game, having them all is considered a military victory. However, even in the game, you’re given the option to keep playing after and fight against the Crises at the difficulty level you set them on. Technically, you’ve won after beating the enemy factions, but you really only earn your victory over a difficulty level after beating all the Crises after doing that, too. No, that’s not a completely arbitrary measurement of success. There’s an achievement if you do it, so it’s real. “But we both know that they’ll try their best to keep their money and power. Reinforce our agents there and have them begin preparations for a coup a few years from now.”
Ayah nodded at my commands and I allowed myself a moment to partake in some tea and cookies, while enjoying the view of a lush evergreen forest.
After a fifteen minute break, I’ll get back to work.
…
Interlude: Khalai
…
With an outstretched hand and a prayer, I unmade the magics suffusing the last of the Undead created by the false masters and completed our victory.
The land was choked by blood, the skies were red and filled with dark clouds, yet the sound of victory horns resounding was like hymns sung by those who reached paradise.
Our crusade won another battle.
“High Justiciar, the battle is won.” Sirena informed me, and I turned her way. Flesh was still healing upon her form, and cleansing magics were removing dirt and grime from her body. She fed her innards back into her stomach and within a moment she stood before me whole and hale with silver sword in hand. “Please, leave dealing with the remains of the enemy to us. Many await to return.”
“Indeed, you have my thanks for reminding me. I’m afraid my blood runs hot fighting against the enemy of our people.” The Saintess tilted her head in acknowledgement of my words, while I treaded upon the muddy and bloody ground. I cleansed wherever I stepped out of instinct, but I stopped myself. It was better to return our holy warriors to life than to step upon fresh grass and flowers instead of mud and muck. “Any news of our reinforcements? There’s still another band of foes we can reach before sunset.”
Sirena raised an eyebrow at my question and simply pointed to the east.
There, in the distance, there were white wings shining bright in the fire-scorched skies.
Always on time and never a moment late.
“I’ll leave the remains of our righteous cause here to you, Sirena. I shall attend to our wounded and dead, before meeting with our friends.”
“Yes, High Justiciar.”
I left her and went towards our back line.
Many of my brave, holy warriors fell to their knees in my presence, and I healed them of their wounds as my feet became caked in mud and muck. Sharp stones cut into me, and some fallen blades and shards of metal stabbed deep, but I ignored it all in favor of my fellow faithful.
Yes.
It is better to suffer this pain than to allow others to feel more terrible pains themselves.
In a few moments, I reached it.
The cordoned off areas where those who fell in battle awaited to return. Those tasked with finding the bodies were hard at work and clad in pure white robes. Their clothes were enchanted protected them, but in truth it was our soldiers who gave their lives to keep them hale. It was their duty to retrieve our fallen, and one took note of me and quickly signaled the others to arrange our people, while the altar at the center of the room was prepared.
They worked silently and wordlessly with covered faces and only their eyes gazing past through slits in their porcelain masks.
Before the altar, two met with me.
One with fresh water and the other with the staff passed down from ancient times from one High Justiciar to the next.
I barely took note of my wounds and the grime and muck which flowed onto the ground from my feet, as I took hold of the simple scepter of intertwining gold and silver.
The moment I touched it, every time that I touched it, I saw the truth.
I saw paradise.
A land of lush green grasses and tall mountains and verdant forests. A land where herds of animals frolicked in nature without a care for anything. The skies were filled with pure white clouds where souls rested as orbs of light awaiting to be plucked away from their vivid dreams and fantasies. Beyond them half the sky was filled with stars and our moon unbroken, while the other half was bright day and the sun shone surrounded by clear blue. Crystal palaces constructed by those who died long ago were on the horizon, where they waited for guests and for calls to come forth and wage war.
But we did not have the strength to reach them yet.
The staff I held was not yet complete, and we were hard at work creating its missing portion in the shadow of our Citadel, so I could not call upon those perched on clouds nor those waiting in crystal spires and towers.
No.
I could only look around me, at those who did not wander past the empty plain where all began in paradise, and call upon those who chose to return.
My ecstasy and joy at beholding paradise was undone with pride and honor at my fellow faithful.
All who died today, once again, were kneeling and ready to return to their bodies.
Ready to continue our crusade, despite paradise waiting for each and every one of them.
The false master which has arisen has no hope of defeating us.
For we choose to fight, instead of accepting paradise, no matter how many times it is offered to us.
Our faith is beyond even death’s reach.