V6: Chapter 7

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Interlude: Conquest

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The ruin we were supposed to enter was surrounded by a procession of monsters composed of many tribes and creatures. Feral analogues of the Goblins and the Beast tribes stayed close to one another, while herds and packs of immense wolves and spiders skittered or loped into the structure. Hulking ogres and even more immense trolls lumbered as groups of three or five clad in ramshackle clothing into the ancient ruin. Harpies flew above, chittering to one another in animalistic tongue, and swooped in as flocks into the darkness below to join their new master.

An undead creature of immense power and might who had under its control tens of thousands more, which it was training, armoring, and arming with all that it could scavenge from the Academy’s former lands.

Thankfully, the number we had before us was well within expectations.

“Chieftain, Holdfast’s group has sent a message. They’re ready.” Breaker spoke, and I turned my gaze to him. Like myself, he was covered in a cloak that muddled his outline hid his shape against the forest that surrounded us. Beneath it he wore and armored vest upon which was a bandolier of explosives. Around his waist was ammunition stored in clips, which would fit in the weapon the Ancients created to aid us in future battles… or perhaps they were the weapons our people used to wield. Most of the Conquerors deployed in combat now were of my command and our weapons and armor were all from the Citadels. “Once you give the signal, we will lay waste to these monsters.”

For a moment, I was tempted to turn and look at my forces… but I knew that I had no need to do so.

I kept my gaze forward, before raising my hand into the air, and casting a bolt of lighting into the air which was followed by the howl of thunder.

Our enemies all looked our way, nearly a thousand monsters, against our force barely a hundred strong.

Yet, I had no reason to be concerned.

“Front rank!” Breaker cried out, just as the path leading to the ruin suddenly exploded and our detached force engaged the monsters streaming towards the ruin. Holdfast’s forces were to our east and the moment the attack was declared they engaged our foes. The din of cannons filled the air, a constant drumbeat of accurate fire, with shells that exploded and sent searing shrapnel in every direction from where they struck. Just as we were going to do. “FIRE!”

With my training to battle at speeds in which Champions fought, where the fluttering of insect wings slowed to a crawl, I watched the shells fired by twenty of my soldiers fly. Each one left rifled barrels and spun in the air as they flew towards their targets. Each shell carried an explosive which could not be replicated by even the greatest alchemists under the King of Wisdom. No larger than a finger within the spinning shell of steel, yet our whole doctrine was formed upon its ability to explode and kill anything within two meters of where it hits and wound anything within five.

My soldiers struck true, and the parading force of monsters were engulfed in innumerable explosions, blooming like vibrant flowers across the whole line. The shells killed many, but they injured far more, and most importantly broke the enemy’s formation in an instant.

And, it was only the first volley.

“Second rank… FIRE!” Breaker called out once again. The rifles needed to be loaded each time they were fired. The rifles used by all others besides our people used complex mechanisms to store multiple rounds within them, and the pull of a bolt threw out spent munitions and loaded another. That allowed even hastily drafted soldiers from villages to send down withering fire down the battlefield. Our weapons were meant to destroy anything that could survive that. “Third rank… FIRE!”

Every three seconds the guns thundered. Twenty shells flew. Doctrine told them to fire at groups of enemies or large targets. Those one the wings knew to coordinate fire on the largest targets, while those at the center focused on smaller ones. They would follow those orders unless instructed otherwise, and by following those orders sixty soldiers turned hundreds into mulch.

Ogres burst apart in half or lost whole quarters of their bodies at single shots.

Trolls fell forward with gaping holes appearing across their bodies.

Anything lesser than them broke apart into nothing, while their vaporization heralded the speeding arrival of shrapnel upon those around them.

I allowed another salvo to go forth into the dying mass, before bringing a whistle to my lips signalling through it.

The shrill cry resounded, and the cannons ceased firing.

The enemy was broken, and there was no point in sparing these monsters.

“Arm yourselves! Leave your cannons to the auxiliaries!” The guns were unloaded, those gathering spent brass casing taking them gingerly, while satchels of ammunition were gingerly laid down. My soldiers became warriors once again as they drew from sheathes the cold, pure-white weapons forged to their specifications from the foundries of the Citadels. I had thought we would lose this part of ourselves once the new weapons were shown to us, but Jack had provided it without even being asked. “The enemy is shattered! The enemy is broken! It is time to make the enemy meet their end!”

I drew my father’s weapon axe and began to bless my warriors for our oncoming charge.

We looked different, but the words my ancestors and our ways remained, only emboldened under the King of Wisdom.

As a people, the Conquerors of the Desert remained, and we will fulfill our vows.

…

The results are in.

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Poison weapons were more effective than expected, which is absolutely terrifying since the poisons used by the enemy factions are just as busted as the ones we get in the future. Yeah, I need to end the coming crises fast, before everyone reaches the chemical warfare phase, because we’ve got a lot less land to lose than everyone coming to kill us.

Or, I could use them instead of firebombs… mhmm… I’ll deliberate on which war crime is better for me in the future.

For now, evaluation of the effectiveness of the latest strategy.

Pumping Ancient tunnels with tons of gas designed to attack the respiratory system.

I’d given the Alchemists and budding chemists a simple job: create a weapon that can be transported in two kinds of containers: one for area denial and one for air drop. The latter was proving to be tricky and they were coordinating with experts in pottery and glassmakers, but the former proved to be easier than expected. Various compounds and poisons were already known to them, since they used magic all the time in their studies and experiments to make chemical extracts and refine metals and other substances. After they figured out how to make something with magic, since making something with magic required knowing the process, they just had to reverse engineer the method and make a physical apparatus to do it with raw materials.

So, they asked for lots of a certain plant, extracted the volatile compounds via distillery, and put the product into airtight barrels.

All that needed to be done was to crack them open with explosives from a distance and run.

That would deny the area by filling it with an irritant that began as a liquid but would fizzle and turn into a tall and pale fog spread by wind.

Now, I’d seen the tests.

I watched a pig in a room go from calm to squealing in pain and terror as its stopped being able to breathe and drowned on land.

Then, in the dissection, I’d seen the lungs of the creature extracted and revealed to be incredibly inflamed and filled with blood from multiple ruptures.

I knew from those experiments that it was a deadly weapon, but pigs were normal creatures.

They didn’t have innate magic protecting them, or robust physiologies, like most mortals and monsters in this setting.

So, when I deployed the weapon, I’d honestly crossed my fingers and hoped that it would be an irritant.

That the extract of some plant we could get readily and easily wasn’t going to inflict horrific amounts of harm.

But that wasn’t the case.

We entered the Ancient Tunnel used by the monsters and found ourselves looking at a field of corpses. The carpet of carcasses was so long that the light cast by our mages didn’t even reveal them all. Not only that, but their deaths were horrific by any standard. Most of the monsters had clawed at their own throats and chests trying to desperately find a way to breath. Many scratched out their own eyes, and those that didn’t had ones that were horrifically bloodshot. Noses and mouths ran with blood and the scent of defecation filled the tunnels as corpses voided themselves.

Just being present reminded me of my childhood scouring battlefields… but even in those battlefields the corpses I stole from died more peaceful deaths.

I unleashed a terrifying weapon on these monsters, and will continue to do so, but someday soon I was sure that I’d have to unleash it on people.

But I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

“We need samples. Get ten of each creature ready for transport. Make sure that they’re dead, too.” I ordered as I took in the damage that I wrought. A single order carried this out. Just an assignment that I signed off on. The systems that I had in place told me that I had the troops and supplies for the assignment at the ready, therefore I just had to give it my approval. With the stroke of a feathered quill, I killed thousands of monsters. “As for the rest, set them alight. The tunnels will do the rest.”

With that said, the people accompanying me moved, and did as I asked while I moved to leave.

A thought resounded in my mind as I moved, though

The most basic of poison area of effect attacks did this much damage… just how terrible will the highest tiers be?

…

Thankfully, after two weeks, the Council of Kings that I called for was in session.

Notably in a neutral territory that was once a town held by the Academy.

The fact that I wasn’t the host didn’t stop me from shipping over all the furniture from the previous Council of Kings, though.

What?

I had everything custom built, so of course I had it all stored away and maintained until needed.

Flying it all in was a hassle, but it was better than hosting something so important in literal ruins.

Unfortunately, the meeting could’ve just been an e-mail.

“I don’t believe that you understand the nature of the current threat. The Death Lord is growing in strength and power as we speak. We all have obligations, especially with the outside world looking towards us now, but this is a threat that we cannot ignore.” We sat at a circular table, but Celia was ruling the roost. A few years of leadership and constant combat did her a lot of good and she was more likely to speak her mind… at least to the Merchants and Forgers. “They are building, training, and stockpiling resources as we speak. Soon, they will be heading our way, because they know that they cannot surmount the defenses of the King of Wisdom.”

“And, what would ye ask of the Forgers, then? That we cease to root out the Ancient foes of our people in favor of this Death Lord? Already the King of Wisdom’s troops gather and amass.” The King of the Forgers didn’t bring his metal throne this time, but he was clad in full regalia for the occasion. Since I last saw him, Agathon upgraded his gear. I’d say around a five hundred point increase to him Item Level, if this were an MMO. Solid mid-game stuff and another thousand to go before hitting peak performance. “None here benefit from the armies of others moving as much as you.”

The Merchants didn’t send anyone last time the Council of Kings met, but they went ahead and played their strongest hand in the form of their strongest leader.

The weeb-bait fox-lady with big fluffy tails and a big hat and very large bits and bobs.

If you didn’t expect the devs to be degenerate with the literal furry faction, I suggest a career change into manual labor.

“Indeed, the King of Wisdom is already gobbling up all the mercenaries to help you, too. Meanwhile, my general’s asking for re-supply in the middle of nowhere.” Harper sat with one leg crossed over another, displaying said leg completely thanks to a long slit in her white skirt. Her two fluffy ears popped out from the sides of the dome of her wide Victorian-style hat, which cast a shadow over the top half of her face, making it so only her sharp, fanged smile was showing as she spoke to Celia. Her top was a white long-sleeved blouse, whose buttons were holding for dear life around her chest. She also had a scarlet jacket, matching her heels hanging over her shoulders. Honestly, she screamed mob boss more than cutthroat merchant. “Why so greedy, girly? You want all of us when you have such a fitting master right at your side? I’m sure he’ll buy in the moment you offer.”

Usually, Khalai would smooth relations between everyone over with his usual, effusive and happy self, but with the Death Lord coming forth he showed his more zealous side.

Even though he was in his usual not!belly dancer outfit, the way he acted was completely different from usual.

“As the scriptures say, those who turn away from the threat of the old masters is a pawn of the old masters. Merchant Executive Harper and Forger King Agathon, to ignore the threat of the Death Lord is to aid it… and we will not suffer and allow the existence any allies of the old masters.”

By that, of course, I mean he was being a full-blow zealot.

I mean, he was saying all those hard-ass lines while covering his lower face with a lace fan and sitting just like Harper, but it’s still zealotry even if it’s cute.

For a second, I considered interceding as Celia fumed, Khalai glared, and Agathon and Harper both stared at Khalai after his threat.

Then, I decided that it was better to let things die down and clapped my hands.

“Alright, everyone. Two hour break for lunch to cool off and rethink things. Because at this rate, we’ll kill each other before the Death Lord does.”

Honestly.

Trying to get these guys to work together is like trying herd a bunch of house cats.

They’re convinced that they don’t need help, but if I leave them out to do their own shit, they’ll die horrifically.