V7: Chapter 4

…

Another day, another attempt at getting Erlan to betray his people.

Thankfully, as expected, his people ran out of supplies and received nothing from back home, so I could swoop in and help.

Thanks for being a bunch of bastards, Forgers, you’re making me look good for being a decent human being.

“These supplies are exceptional.” Erlan stared at the ration kits handed out. I showcased it to him after asking him to check them for foods his people couldn’t eat. We had a few different sets for our people. Children of the Elm rarely ate meat. The Conquerors needed larger kits. Scholars needed less. The Forgers ate a bit more than a regular human did, but far less than a Conqueror. “What did you call this nutrient square?”

“Ration square.” I’d gathered up a lot of scholars and cooks for it. I’d remembered from my previous life that there was a superfood thing that used by native Americans for long journeys. All I knew was that it used rendered fat, dried meat, and berries to provide all the essentials when eaten with hardtack. Also, there was already plenty of preservation methods in use by the locals of the world, so we used their ideas as well. The result was a the ration square, which were sticky bars lightly sweetened with honey, filled with mixes of nuts and oats, and reinforced with dried whey and dried fruits like oranges. Protein, fiber, and sugar that could be eaten by all my people. Lots of people ground up their hardtack, cooked it like flapjacks, and crumbled their bars on it to make some hot food. Some made porridge. It could easily be eaten just by itself, though. “Eat as many as you want. We’ve got factories pumping those out. Any excess from the farms goes to make those.”

“I see. Thank you.” Erlan munched and crunched on the bar with a nod. Ration squares were about five hundred calories each. All the ingredients were grown on farms, rather than produced by Citadels, and all the machinery required were mills, threshers, crushers and ovens. The first three were mostly water or wind powered and already existed in the Academy. Lots of the small towns around the academy were agricultural in nature, so the expertise came along with the refugees. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Academy had something similar for their soldiers as rations. A secret weapon that allowed them to project power? Sounded like something they’d have. “You truly have enough to spare for all, don’t you?”

“I have half the continent under my control. I can give your people a selection of regions that I need civilized and productive.” Erlan was direct. Silence meant he’s done talking with you. A grunt ended whole lines of conversation. I learned to quickly to jump at any dialogue option the man offered. He crunched on the bars and listened as I spoke. “There are prime mining areas where the Scholars used to live. A nice valley with some geothermal vents and hot springs, right next to the richest ore veins we’ve found. The Scholars picked the land to rapidly industrialize.”

To pop out clockwork mechs with Ancient materials as armor plating to act as pseudo-Guardians that they could use as disposable terror weapons, while they put together tanks and artillery. All the while, they’ll hide behind their armies and produce biological, chemical, and nuclear weapons to wipe everyone else out. Yeah, knocking them out and putting their remains to the sword was the smart choice.

All the ones unwilling to work and help me make those weapons for myself, at least.

“What will you provide as settlement support?” The fact that his own people didn’t provide his soldiers with supplies, while I did must’ve been a greater fuck up for the Forgers than I thought. Erlan might’ve accepted his place in society, if they at least supported him and his like actual people that needed material support. However, that didn’t happen, and now he and his people were eating from stocks I brought in. Yeah, with how transactional their society is, I’m sensing there’s been a severe breakdown in relations. “We have no coin to offer you. Only labor.”

“I’ve heard that before and I’m prepared for it.” Or, rather, my Merchant Champion was. Sarala was coming into his own and I’ve maxed out his economy tree, while also provided him with talented people to train and use. The Lion-based Merchant turned the Children of the Elm’s land into a place of commerce and made use of the Children of the Elm’s ability to grow just about anything. Groves of fruits, fields of spices, and orchards with every conceivable thing produced materials to be sold fresh, juiced, jarred, candied, and more. Sugar flowed out of his lands after we managed to acquire seeds for sugar beets and sugar cane from the Citadel, and his honey farms were hard at work still producing another sweetener/preservative, too. “Your people will be supported. Enough so that you can create a foundation. It’ll be a debt, of course. Not a handout.”

“…You know my people very well.” If I offered them money for free, that would be pity. That wasn’t something I learned from lore. It was just a fact of life of this world. Maybe, it was also the same back home. Free gifts are looked upon with hesitation and no small amount of suspicion. Too many people have been taught to look for hidden scams and malign intent. People want to give in exchange, even if it’s something small. Not that this is small. I’m buying a few thousand skilled Forgers with the desire to work hard and scream at their country that they’re not just the dregs of society. I’d happily shell out, if I get even a fraction of their tech tree at my disposal. “And, I know little of yours. News of your nation is limited amongst my people. We know of your strength, but not how you live.”

“Well, Erlan, you’re lucky. I happen to have had a fair hand in deciding how my people live. I’ll share.”

My foot was in the door, now it was time to make the sale.

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Most of the work was done by the Forgers not supplying their own troops, but I’m not about to complain.

I always take whatever I can get.

…

Interlude: Conquest

…

In two months, I saw more combat than I did the rest of my entire life.

I wrenched my axe from the skull of an ogre and took in the scent of the battlefield. Past the spilled blood, the stinking viscera, and spilled contents of stomachs and bowels… the scent of living foes were no longer present.

“The enemy camp is destroyed. Take a moment to gather yourselves.” My warriors heeded my words. Some looked for shade, others searched for prizes and loot, while Breaker came up to me and met my gaze with a nod. My second-in-command surveyed the results of the battle. Since he was by my side, I knew that it went well “No injuries?”

“None, my chief—ma’am.” Breaker grimaced as he corrected his words. He was unused to the term, but the new warriors were taught to use it, so he used the word of address to show them even he fell under the rules and standards of the army we fought in. “This marks the fifteenth camp we’ve cleared. We’ll be rotating to the backline for at least a month. You can rest a bit now and let me handle getting everything in order.”

“…I appreciate that. Let it be done.” Breaker gave a low bow and I nodded in return. He left to address the soldiers, while I stood up. “I’ll be going for a walk. I’ll call if I need aid.”

I didn’t wait for a reply and instead headed away from all the destruction.

Father now ruled over the Conquerors and was in council with the King of Wisdom. He sat beside Sarala, who ruled over the lands of the Children of the Elm, and Riegert who took over the lands of the Scholars. The King of Wisdom ruled over the primary Citadel and I attended their meetings often.

My father had told me that one day I will take his place.

With his power gone, he will fade far faster than most Conquerors, with only a handful of decades ahead of him.

Yet, I could not imagine doing more than what I have done now.

War and battle better suited me.

Even as I walked away, my mind was racing with ideas with what to do next.

The King of Wisdom gave goals, but between the start and end of that goal, the officers on the field had full command. Those who commanded on instinct and those who planned ahead for every circumstance could both act as they wished. My people had all followed a single chieftain, who we all followed and returned to at the end of every day for more orders and more reports, but the efficacy of our armies relied on that chieftain… and their ability to use the skills of those below them in their strategies and tactics.

In the King of Wisdom’s army, I found my true strength.

I act on instinct and I know I that will never make for a good leader.

The meetings my father held with the King of Wisdom and the others numbed my mind. I tried to listen. I tried to learn. I tried, but each time I barely recall what they spoke about. I knew the importance of their talks. Our people had needs, had concerns, had futures that needed to be protected. All such things were of great importance. However, once talks began of curriculums for schools, for limits on factory noises in the evening, and for the creation of intermediary warehouses in smaller towns… the minutia faded into a fuzzy mass of memory barely within my ability to speak of.

No.

I am most suited for war.

I found a vantage point, a tall tree with strong branches, and leapt upward. Within moments I reached the topmost branch capable of holding my weight, and I surveyed the vast army behind us.

The King of Wisdom’s force on the march was humbling. The front ranks were Forgers, strong and resolute, and marching in armor far too heavy even for a Conqueror. They were a mighty vanguard that broke charges by simply holding their ground, and turned all that they stopped into broken bones and flesh. However, accompanying them was something far more fearsome.

A complete army that flew the banners of the King of Wisdom.

Ten thousand professional soldiers supported by five thousand through logistics and support. All other armies in the realm did not have such a thing. We supported ourselves in the field with supplies with carried on our backs and by foraging from the surrounding lands. There were more behind his professional soldiery than those five thousand, as well. That five thousand did not account for those transporting goods to support his armies, they did not count the factories producing rations and supplies in towns, and whole private companies with contracts with the King of Wisdom to supply his soldiers with pieces of their kit. Every single one of those ten thousand soldiers could die or become casualties in this war, but in the next year they’ll be replaced and their replacements will just be as well fed, and their new officers knowledgeable and trained against what ruined the last army.

The King of Wisdom’s army was just but the teeth of a beast that could afford to replace it time and time again.

The true strength of the King of Wisdom was the mass of people that believed in him, that worked for him, and who would die for him along with all that they produced.

The Death Lord’s nation was on the other side.

Monsters and tribal barbarians who were now being broken apart by the King of Wisdom’s mere attention.

A hundred groups of ten Conquerors armed with Ancient weapons deployed all over the front. Each one the finest, each one screened through dozens of requirements, and each one further trained to all have the foundational skills necessary to do their duty. Thereafter, once qualified, they received special instruction in their talented fields, then teammates and leaders that made up for their deficiencies. Then, after all that, provided with tons of supplies and munitions to call upon, dedicated transportation, and lax rules on how operate in the field.

I represented our people, therefore I received the reports on their success and failures.

Nothing but successes flowed before me.

Fortresses destroyed overnight through clever use of explosives and long-range fire. Roaming patrols of heavy cavalry led into woods and ambushed then destroyed to the last. Caravans of supplies stolen away in the middle of the day. Tribes forced to flee as their warriors returned crazed in and incoherent. Search parties of warriors meant to destroy them led into traps and destroyed by a coordinated strike from the army at our back.

I could feel their pride in their reports, in their eagerness to succeed once again, and I felt the same way.

With just Breaker and eight others, I took control over the area assigned to me.

Destroy these three fortifications, root out the enemy’s supply caravans, and survey these areas.

Those were my main objectives, and I received no further others, only the trust that I would achieve what was asked of me.

And, now, I looked toward the land ahead of the army, which I prepared for their coming.

Not one soul of the enemy remained, all their supplies were ready to be taken by our own people, and all the secrets I could find deciphered and extracted from their people.

All by my own skill.

All by my own power.

All as I wished.

A good day.

And, in but a few days, I will do it again.