V7: Chapter 8
…
They never tell you how hard it is to clean up after a battle, especially when the armies range in the tens of thousands. Yeah, yeah. Shit, piss, vomit, and all that happens. However, at some point, taking care of the battlefield becomes an operational issue as well, since our foes have a Death Lord at their disposal and have plenty of lesser magic users who can make use of dead bodies.
If we don’t take care of the dead, if we just let them fester to be eaten by crows, then the likelihood of them returning more powerful than they were in life was a distinct possibility. I wasn’t well versed in Necromancy, but I did plenty of reading before the Death Lord popped up and spoke to a few Necromancers regarding how to deal with an army of living and Undead.
Their main recommendation was battlefield burials, at the very least mass burning and never mass graves, because the latter would just be a pile of resources for any enterprising necromancer to make use of. Defending the massive mounds of bodies would be a pain, even with my trust in my troops to do it, so I went with the burning route.
And, burning thousands of bodies was a challenge itself, since my troops had to process bodies, grab valuables, and put everything together.
I really needed to have a dedicated support company for battlefield sanitation in the future, but for now this will have to do.
The funerals took up a whole city block by my estimation. Bodies were stacked between spaced out logs. Tinder and some coal were placed beneath and throughout the whole structure, and we packed them in tight, then raised earth walls around each pyre to create a furnace effect. Wind flowed in through inlets at the base, the bodies and logs were lowered in, and the draft fed the flames while everything was kept nice and hot within. Of course, we gave the bodies of those identified over to their families to deal with, but for the most part those who died in battle were lowered in bulk into furnaces.
Some people say victory looks like parades, but to me it was a field of primitive furnaces billowing black smoke into the sky as corpses were turned to ash.
The sad part was that it was better than what I witnessed in my childhood, where the dead after battles were left to rot after their belongings were taken away. The moment you died, the only thing that mattered was the steel on your person, and after that you’re forgotten by both friend and foe. Just a cadaver to be feasted upon or to rot into the soil. As terrible as it was to basically shovel fuel and corpses into makeshift furnaces to deny them as Undead warriors for the enemy, this was somehow better.
And, I hated it very much.
…
“Get these prisoners fed and watered and moved to the backlines. Our backlines.”
“As you command, King of Wisdom.”
I got a quick salute, while Erlan stared at the survivors of the battle.
“Sorry, but they surrendered thanks to my Champions. Your people won’t be taking them.” As far as I concerned, after someone surrenders, they get incarcerated for the rest of the conflict in humane conditions. I was planning on making work camps in former Scholar territory. Farming was difficult up there, and it had the lowest population of all my regions. They needed the extra labor, whether that was to tend to crops or to help with the mining effort. Once the war was over, I’d happily repatriate them, but with their homes gone… it was likely they were going to stay wherever I put them. “I’ll be needing methods to recoup the losses my people took in battle.”
“I understand.” Erlan was quick to nod. His people hadn’t fought in fears of the disease. That led to a lot of issues. For every ten pikemen I had, about three were wounded and at least one died. Across three to four thousand people, that was a lot of injured that needed to get medical treatment and a lot of dead that I couldn’t replace. The fact that we had just under six thousand prisoners was a silver lining. We spent loads of munitions not just for our rifles, but also for the guns used by my commando teams. The latter we could produce from Citadels and get shipped over, but until then they weren’t going to function as effectively. The former was going to heavy and we produced that on our own, meaning it was going to cost us in the long run. “My apologies for not managing to get my people to fight in this battle.”
“As long as they’re willing to fight in the battles to come, it’ll be fine.” It was barely within tolerable ranges, in fact. Fine was overselling it. If the Dwarves had been at the front, nearly a thousand of my troops would still be capable of fighting. Even though we had reserves and we were pulling people to replenish the pike divisions, I practically lost a whole unit at decent veterancy due to the Dwarves not being at the front. The damage may have been distributed, but overall, it was a thousand casualties that wouldn’t otherwise have ahead. I could only hope that half those casualties were returning as actual soldiers in the next campaign. “The battles ahead will be against the Death Lord and its undead armies. They will be untainted by my method, practically at full strength, despite having their food poisoned and disease spread amongst their people.”
“Against my warriors, I swear the Undead will break without question. The deaths of your warriors here will be remembered. They died for us.”
“They died for me, Erlan, for the nation under my rule and their families and their children. Do not overstep yourself.” I corrected him. I did my best to contain my frustration. At the very least, he bowed his head with a nod at my words. That cooled me off a bit. “They did not die for the Forgers. Or your people.”
“It is as you say.” Erlan admitted and stroked his beard. I wondered faintly if I overstepped myself and undid a few weeks of careful diplomacy. Then again, would I be respected as a leader, if I just ignored the fact my soldiers died because these guys were too afraid to fight because their foes were diseased? After I went through every measure I could to keep them safe? When not even one of my own forces suffered any illness this whole trip thanks to my preparations? Absolutely not. I had every right to be angry. “I cannot speak for all my people, but I will not forget this debt we owe to you. Please, excuse me, King of Wisdom.”
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He left, trudging away, and deep in thought.
I felt a gaze on me.
No footsteps.
“Morgan, I know you’re there.”
“Oh? I thought I concealed myself perfectly. I’ve been learning a lot fighting with the girls.” Morgan had her usual, big smile. She sauntered over with all her usual jauntiness in my presence. Ever since that time she relaxed and slept over in my tent, while I worked behind my desk, she’s been like this around me. Playful and coy and generally just happy. I’m sure she’s got plenty of plans. “Are you going to do something about Erlan? Perhaps, it’s time to offer the steel gauntlet instead of the velvet glove?”
“That’ll need to wait until the final battle. I’ll have him killed and shatter his forces then, and take the survivors in with their gratitude after.” Morgan, naturally, saw through my intentions with the Forger forces under Erlan’s command. “I’d prefer to take them all. Even if only one in a hundred of these people are skilled crafters, that’d be an immense prize. The less we rely on the Ancients the better.”
“Oh? Even though we’ve found a godling fit for you to wed?” Morgan drawled and stretched. She leaned against the side of my horse. He knew better than to try anything in her presence and went completely still. This was a hyper lethal superhuman with the ability to subvert entire nations as needed. An entity capable of taking over the whole planet with everyone, even the crises, opposing her. I’d go as still as my horse, if I could. “I’d thought you’d be more amicable towards the Ancients after leaving a worthy creature behind for you to leash up nice and neatly at the foot of your throne.”
“The Ancients were too kind and too free. Their creations have only their own morality to truly keep them constrained.” I didn’t bother lying to her. She’d probably figure it out. The best I could do was omit information, while burying her in information. That way, I could just use the ‘should’ve mentioned that’ excuse. “The Iterants and Ayah both are driven solely by guilt and vengeance against those who wronged them… if this creature is the same, I wouldn’t trust it unless I could put it down like the others. At the very least, we’ll need collateral before putting it to use.”
“Ah, the Children of the Elm. It’s fortunate that we have some on hand.” Morgan stated simply and nodded, like she wasn’t treating people like assets. Yeah, woman, you can saunter over here without your usual jacket in a strappy tank top with those excellent biceps and curves to try and have me lower my guard… but I would’ve never gotten this far if my sense of paranoia hasn’t always managed to lock away my lust. Short-haired, fit tomboy with glasses is any decent man’s weakness, but unfortunately for you, I know for a fact that you’re capable of horrible shit. “We should have her attended by them. If she gets close, we can make use of them as leverage.”
“A good idea, I’ll put it into motion. We have a few younger ones all but clamoring for parental figures, and this goddess of nature may have a motherly tendency.” Honestly, I was more on the side of treating the goddess very well and just giving her tons of tribute and dedicating what I needed to dedicate to her. Gods in the game only got pissed if you failed their event chains, and I wasn’t about to do that, since I already had her locked in. It’d be a waste to not use her. “I won’t be approaching her until she’s secured as an ally. However, your suggestion holds merit, especially if she bears children with some of her power.”
“Ah, that hadn’t occurred to me. Demigods would truly be a grand advantage. We’ll need to hasten making sure she’s ours, then.” Morgan grinned, like she wasn’t talking about making use of an artificial entity with divine powers to pump out super soldiers. “I’ve a few potent concoctions in mind, if she proves resistant to the act.”
Right, we’re steering away from the standard non-consensual hentai doujin plot.
“I’ll do my utmost to make sure it doesn’t come to that.” I simply told Morgan, who waggled her eyebrows at me. I’m not being a prude, you freak. I’m being a decent person. “Now, there’s some other news that should interest you. The Demonic Blade has been sanctified and will be arriving to be at your disposal tomorrow.”
“Oh? A present?” Morgan grinned, practically telling me she already knew the details. Once the Demonic Sword that corrupted Crusher was acquired, we’d built a fortress around it and proceeded to study it. The standard good choice after choosing not to pick it up, the event chain progressed rapidly, as I knew who to contact and how to get the work done. After breaking it apart, purifying it, breaking it apart some more, and purifying it some more, the Sanctified Blade was made. Legendary artifact with a simple caveat: the one using it could only use physical enhancement magic after drawing it out of its scabbard. The sword swallowed up magic in its vicinity, enough to make weak Undead like zombies and skeletons just die on the spot, so whoever wielded it need to be capable of extreme violence with just their bare hands. “I’m looking forward to putting that blade to use, especially against the damnable creature that escaped me.”
Of course, she saw her minor failure for being able to reach orbit as being more important than what was currently happening.
“And, the Death Lord.” I idly reminded her.
“Oh, and him. Yes.”
Morgan hummed for a moment, before I recalled something.
“Oh, and find someone worth of training for the invisible blade of yours.” She got a while back, while purging the Academy out of the Ancient’s transportation system. Morgan gave me a dour look, not liking the idea at all, but I decided to be firm. “Your duty for the foreseeable future is to kill the monsters that utilize terrible magics or have some form of esoteric defense with the Sanctified Blade. An assassin’s weapon will do you little good, especially when you’re more than capable of just using your wires to slice throats without them noticing.”
“Well, excuse me for wanting an invisible blade that never dulls.” Morgan huffed but shook her head. A gleam came upon her vision after a moment, though. She looked at me expectantly and I took the sheaf of papers I had prepare from a satchel on the side of my horse and handed it to her. “Are you sure? I’m going to be a little rough training them and my mission will be very, very dangerous.”
“They need the experience, and foes such as the ones we face now will be far more common in the future. You’ve seen the reports. Beyond these lands, magic flows like water.” Morgan nodded in understanding, while picking through the papers. We searched for people with potential. Those without the talent for warfare were trained in administration for towns. Those that did were being groomed to lead thousands of troops. Those with the most potential, those who could become Champions, were sequestered along the same routes but for whole cities and armies. I was going to have my potential Champions partner up with my existing ones, while training them for their roles. “We need more Champions, plain and simple, so… they're the ones that volunteered for the most dangerous positions, for their nation, for little more than pocket change.”
I was giving Morgan the pick of the most nationalistic of our batch, so that there was a chance that they wouldn’t become loyal to her instantly. Their talents weren’t exceptional, but each one had the potential to be a Champion, and that was enough to make them qualify.
Morgan, of course, smiled as she looked over the profiles.
Either she saw it as a fine challenge, or a new tool to use.
At the very least, in the short term, I was going to get some tough people trained by her at my disposal.
I turned away from her as she read, but added one last thing.
“I don’t mind. You can be a little rough.”
“Oh-ho. Thank you very much, your majesty.”
Translation:
Me: If they don’t die from you, it’s fine.
Morgan: Time to pump them full of drugs and health tinctures, put them in terrible situations, and have no one stop me until I get them to the level I like.