V6: Chapter 5

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Interlude: Rita

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Morgan, the granddaughter of Khanrow, reminded me of Ilych. Both were strong and capable Champions with keen minds and immense potential. Where they headed in battlefields, if there was no Champion to oppose them, only ruin and destruction awaited those they faced. Though one was clad in armor from head to toe, and the other wore armor behind a heavily enchanted coat, both existed as nigh-unstoppable individuals wherever they tread.

However, there was a stark difference between the two.

Morgan had a certain cruelty to her that Ilych did not.

“Oh, Rita. Just the woman I wanted to see.” Through the Ancient networks constructed by the Ancients, we hunted the remains of the Academy. Above ground the drums of war beat and all were allying against the threat of a great and terrible Death Lord at the head of an army of monsters and beasts. We were instructed to continue our mission, but to return once we completed our duty or found ourselves without further trails. Once that command arrived, Morgan revealed her true colors. “I have good news!”

On the surface, she looked like an ordinary young woman with large glasses, messy hair, and a bubbly smile. The baggy, large coat she wore with voluminous sleeves and a large hood was scholarly in nature and filled within and without with pockets. It hid her weapons and armor beneath her body, thus at first glance she would seem like any normal young woman.

Then there was the hacksaw she held in hands covered in blood and the puddle of blood upon which she stood.

The good news she proclaimed was courtesy of the creature we had captured at her behest in our last melee.

It was once a goblin, but now resembled a mass of flesh and bone bereft of skin on a raised table. From idle study, I sensed necromantic magics present in the mass of flesh, as well as normal healing magics. The creature straddled the line between life and death. No. Both those magics were anathema to one another, and their presence in the creature must have been agony. Upon its body were signs of places being cut, hewn, or sawed. At the bottom of the table, there lay innumerable hunks of meat, easily totaling more in weight than the creature we captured.

“I managed to breach the mind of this goblin shaman. Quite the tough cookie, but even the strongest tend to give up when faced with this much pain forever.” It was a mockery of immortality. Flesh would grow forever due to healing, then that would be eaten away by deathly magics coursing within the flesh trying to make what died alive. Morgan washed her hands of the blood she spilled, and before my very eyes, from the cuts made by the young woman there were new limbs being made… rotting and alive at the same moment. The cruelest half-life imaginable used to break the defenses of the mind. “The Academy’s in this sector.”

All for the sake of information of the absolute greatest import.

“How are they traveling?” I spoke, and Morgan took idle note of my discomfort and with a gesture sent a knife through what must have remained of the creature’s mind. It died in moments, its misery ended, and I breathed a sigh of relief. However, in the back of my mind, I knew that she killed it simply to ensure that I would hear all the information she deemed important. “And, how many are there?”

“They are using an ancient machine designed to travel through these systems. They power it through magic and wherever it goes, it powers hidden systems within the walls, which allows it to move near-frictionless across the tunnels.” Morgan held out her hand and sand from a pouch she kept moved to illustrate what she described. After Ayah showcased her ability to shift her material composition to show images, Morgan had trained and learned to do the same with another medium. I looked upon what looked like a series of linked carriages the size of houses that levitated off the ground. “It moves quickly, but it hampered by lack of fuel. The Academy uses monsters as sacrifices to power it… which is why these are not with the rest of their gambit.”

“Gambit?” I asked, and Morgan looked pointedly at me. I knew that she was gauging my intellect and ability, but I just shook my head. “Morgan, there is only one person who can outthink you. I am not our king.”

“Hm.” A sound. That was her response to my statement, but she untensed at my words. There was only one reason why the two of us could work together. It was the simple fact that we both had faith in Jack. Her methods were extreme, but she carried them out with reason and purpose that aligned with my own. She knew of my own loyalty, therefore she tolerated me. Thus, she and I could understand one another. “Their gambit is the Death Lord. The latest threat to the established powers, of course, is yet another fabrication of the Academy. It is their latest attempt to seize control of a Citadel, after they failed with the Conquerors through their cursed blade.”

“…You had suspicions, but verified them through the memories of the creature you interrogated.”

“Correct. A monster of myth unseen in centuries, their method of creation unknown, coming into being marshalling armies of monsters across the land… just a few years after the Academy’s fall?” Morgan explained, and I listened carefully. She created another image from the sands she controlled in the palm of her hand. It took on the figure of a skeleton swathed in ragged robes walking out and away from the massive vehicle that the Academy used to travel the underground system left behind by the Ancients… where so many monsters had dwelled. “Either they created it, or they had it hidden in their capital for study, and it broke out at its destruction. Through the memories of the shaman, I discerned it is the former.”

I considered the information carefully, before speaking again.

“Can we somehow usurp their control of it? This creature would be a great weapon for the future.”

Morgan made an approving nod at my question, like a teacher pleasantly surprised at a student. I swallowed my pride and indignation, especially as she seemed earnestly pleased with my question.

And, most likely, she knew that discerned exactly that.

She was only ever truly honest and without duplicity around our king.

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“I’ve discerned no method of control from the memories of our captive, but the Academy would have to be fools to unleash something like this without a method of control… but also without a method to destroy it themselves.” Morgan explained and once again manipulated sand to create another image. This time it was the strange, flying metal craft we’d found rumors and reports of in the Conquerors land. It landed near the vehicle and from it came a nondescript Champion clad in all black to which all the monsters following the Academy’s vehicle supplicated. “Whoever and whatever this creature is, it is the Academy’s method of controlling monsters and we need to either kill it or capture it. Preferably the latter.”

I took idle note of the veritable army of monsters protecting the Academy’s transport, and our new target, before making my decision.

“Very well, come up with a plan to do just that, and tell me what you need, Morgan.”

“I’ll have a plan ready in a moment.”

Matters such as these were best left to individuals such as Morgan and our king.

…

There are stages to every crisis.

The first stage involves the initial attacks that occur on the borders of your territory. A few thousand monsters here and there without any Champions leading them. They’ll go through your territory, mess up tiles, and hit a settlement. Fortresses, techs, and policies that increase enemy attrition rates in your territory can deal with them, especially since they lack supply lines and need to pillage agriculture tiles or undefended settlements for food.

So, the strategy to ‘kill’ the first wave the same as surviving regular crises. Keep population centers and agriculture in the inner area around your Citadel. Fortresses and industrial districts where you can build stuff can go on the outermost areas. They can take the damage, hit back, and with the proper policies and technology, the enemy won’t get anything from taking them.

That’s the design of my cities in my regions… and it was mimicked by everyone else.

Did they copy my design?

Probably not.

Everyone with Citadels at their disposal came from an era of strife, so they knew how to protect themselves and fortify their positions.

Therefore, there were no issues regarding the first waves for just about everyone involved.

There were, however, other issues.

Such as everyone going off to do their own thing.

“They’re all just going out there like a herd of frenzied cats.” There was a strong response from the everyone when it came to the Death Lord. Armies from the Merchants, Guardians, Wardens, and the Forgers came forth from their settlements in the Academy’s old lands, and they were engaging in some preemptive retaliation i.e. killing shit before it turned into a problem. “Are they even making progress, or are they just getting themselves killed trying to win?”

“They’re functioning well, but only after a few near-defeats from which they had to learn from.” Ayah stated simply, and I simply restrained myself from banging my head against the nearest wall. I wasn’t in my Citadel, but instead taking up residence in a manor in my settlement on the Academy’s old lands. I couldn’t act as I wished, because to do otherwise would ruin my public image. Why did I care about how I looked to other people? Because, the concept of the King of Wisdom was more important than me now. “Our planned efforts to move the enemy away from our territory needn’t be implemented. They are doing that themselves.”

“Good for us, but it’s still too bad for them.” I wanted everyone to get dragged into this fight, because that was the most assured way of getting this fight done quickly. Kill the Death Lord and the event ends and we can all get a few turns of nothing happening where we could all just turtle up and focus on our economies. However, from what we were seeing courtesy of our Iterants that could seamlessly blend into the armies of our opponents, everyone else wasn’t fighting as well as they should. Too many people were dying and getting injured. “How are the preparations going for the bombing campaign and how are our defensive preparations?”

“We expended most of our munitions at the battle against the Conquerors and our Citadels are focused on creating an army that can hold our territory.” I grimaced at Ayah’s statement, but made no comment. Our hands were still tied by the production order for Guardians to secure our lands. I could stop the process halfway, but that would put my territory at risk. I couldn’t do that, even at the cost of more lives lost in this campaign. “Therefore, the munitions need to be manufactured by mortal hands. It will take months before we have a sufficient stockpile that we can unleash as planned.”

“Make sure that they meet the deadline, but not at the cost of lives. We need as many experienced hands as possible and make sure to promote managers that streamline the workflow.” Better weapons could be automatically manufactured later, but I wanted militia to have bombs available to them… and I wanted to strike enemy cities and stifle any supply lines coming our way. To that end, I needed far more than what Citadels alone could produce. I needed factories producing the bombs and incendiaries, just like I’ll eventually need artillery shells and other munitions. In the future, the fabricators of the Citadels will be making near-artisan, bespoke weapons, armor, and munitions for my professional armies, while the drafted will be supplied with weapons that we could make ourselves. “How about our defenses?”

“The gatehouses are all fully functional and the tunnels have been lined for collapse. Our settlement in this land is being heavily fortified as we speak, and evacuations are completed.” Since the Academy was no longer using the continent’s richest farmland, we’d gone ahead and started exploiting it after it fell. The famine was my claim to seizing the land, but in all honesty, I just wanted more tiles to exploit for more resources. Anyway, the people lived in hamlets and they were just there to work the land. I told them to leave, come back to civilization, and so they left by my command as I was the one paying them to be there in the first place. “We are also ready to scorch all that is currently unharvested to deny the supplies to our foes.”

“Make it so, and ensure that we extract the necessary supplies from storage to make up for the loss.” This was a necessary tactic in-game, too. If the enemy got onto an improved tile and pillaged it, then they’d get five turns worth of its output with all the improvements, technology advancements, and Champion bonuses applied to that tile. In the early game, looting and raiding was pretty much a waste of time, however we were now in the mid-game where it became strategically important to destroy your own lands after taking all that you can carry. You can fund whole campaigns and supply armies on looting alone, and your enemies could do the same. “What about the mercenaries we planned to use?”

“As you instructed, the newest bands are being the greatest risk and offered high rewards, while the most established are given the same option and safer positions.” Mercenary loyalty was a stat in the game. If you had enough reputation, you could buy mercenary companies out, but they’d have low loyalty until you start feeding them gold. Higher the veterancy and higher the tech tier means more expensive mercenaries, more so than regular troops, but they handled their own supplies and with the right investments they didn’t who up on the map with your faction’s colors and affiliations. Needless to say, they were assets that I needed, so I was currying favor with the strong ones and keeping an eye out for the ones that performed well. “And, amongst their number, I found a suitable candidate as a prospective leader of our future… unaffiliated force.”

Ayah went through the documents in my ‘in’ pile and handed me a folder gingerly.

I raised an eyebrow at what I found.

Mostly because the person in question fit the mold for one of the Children of the Elm’s possible leaders, but here he was playing mercenary lord.

“Interesting, keep an eye on this… Scholar of the Lost.” He even kept his title. Was this guy using mercenary work to set up a possible return of his faction? “Investigate him thoroughly. We can use him to guide the mercenaries if he has no plans to use them against us in the future. If he does, kill him and find a replacement.”

With a word, I put a sword at someone’s neck hundreds of miles away and no one present even blinked at my declaration.

“Your will shall be done, my King.”

Like I said, the King of Wisdom is more important than Jack.

And, in all honesty, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Makes it far easier to abdicate.