“Lady Valorn. Report!”

An exceedingly frazzled looking Lady Valorn turned from the abandoned ruins of the palace grounds to gaze at Eric with haunted, bloodshot eyes.

“My prince, you’re still here!”

Eric frowned, taking a quick look around the palace grounds. Ugly craters, torn shrubbery and the faint stench of blood had replaced the beautiful topiary and festive solstice atmosphere of less than an hour ago. Yet, surprisingly, he saw no sign of wounded elves or bodies, which he took as a very good sign.

“Casualties?”

The shell-shocked elven noble suppressed a tremble. “Surprisingly mild, my lord. Two elves perished. Seven others were wounded. The rest immediately took shelter in the palace. We…” She swallowed, wide frightened eyes locking wither Eric’s own. “They possess cannon, Eric. Multiple cannon, and our queen’s shields… they did nothing!”

Eric dipped his head. “I know. They were led by a Bronze who could pierce wards like they were no more than mirages. I think he was group linked with Dream Sages or some bullshit like that, but either way, we won’t have to worry about shelling any more.”

Lady Valorn fell to her knees, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. “Thank the queen’s eternal mercy!”

Eric smirked. “No comment, but you can believe what you like. Anyway, with that being said… where are our men? We’ve got a hell of a lot of reds incoming, and even if I do have something of a plan, I need to know how everything and everyone fit together.”

The elven noble just stared at Eric, completely gobsmacked. “You. You actually have a plan.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “Of course you do! The wild card who actually brought me Gilton… before everything went to hell.”

Eric frowned. “Yeah, I’m going to need some serious details on how exactly that fuck up went down…”

“It wasn’t a fuck up!” a suddenly furious Valorn shrieked. “It was a catastrophe!”

“Sure. Point is, now our focus has to be Queensland, and I need to see what we’re working with.”

Valorn gazed at Eric for long moments, desperate hope blossoming in her features. “You’re… you’re finally ready to take responsibility for your faction? You’re willing to accept the Path of Rulers at last?”

An alarmed Eric immediately stepped back, a dozen warning bells ringing pretty damned loudly in his head.

“No! Hell no!” He snapped. “It’s just that…” His gaze hardened. “This free agent is willing to hire out his personal military forces for compensation in the form of resources.”

Valorn’s eyes widened with outrage. “You would exploit us now, when we are at our weakest? When with a single act of grace, you could rule us in truth? Monstrous!”

Eric scowled. “Look, shut the fuck up and give me a credit. That too hard?”

He smirked at her dazed look of disbelief, handing him a silver coin which he guessed was technically one credit.

“Good. The Sylvan faction has officially hired my services til first light. My command will be autonomous, I WON’T be aiding you guys in conquest, merely defense, and if my merc unit wants to hire on with you guys when I’m out, that’s fine too.”

Valorn swallowed. “I’m not quite sure what you’re playing at, Eric, but it doesn’t matter. If you and your… mercenary band can help us…” Her smile filled with tears. “Eric, we’ve already been abandoned!”

Eric’s eyes widened. “What?”

“All the other elves!” She sobbed. “All the other clans making up the Sylvan Alliance are gone! Only myself, my handful of surviving officers, and less than a hundred elves are left to march under Elonia’s banner!”

Eric froze at those words, heart roaring in his ears as he spent a long awful moment just trying to process that final bitter twist to this devastating night.

“Wait… I thought we had four hundred! What about Lord Drevyn? Annika Drevyn? Sufia the Scout? Jinni our Blue friend?”

“All have left us, Eric. Even Jinni left with Caliban!” Her panicked hand clenched his wrist. “Eric, it’s bad. Not only have ALL the humanoid factions declared war on us, but Jinni said they’re making inroads on Blue Corp territory too!”

“What?” Eric lurched back in surprised dismay, suddenly feeling like his entire world was crumbling down as Valorn trembled and sobbed and somehow Eric was wasting precious seconds soothing this sobbing woman who was a hairsbreadth away from panic and he NEEDED to get back to the enemy camp, finalize orders to his men, and figure out how the hell to pull not even a win, but simple survival from this dreadful night.

“It’s true! The Queen herself went in seclusion the moment you left. All her favorite pets and underlings and every other clan save my own just up and disappeared… even the paladins that were supposed to be guarding your sister have disappeared! Now it’s just my broken clan, The Winter Queen, and your still sleeping sister… and your mother refuses to respond to any of us that are left!”

Eric shook his head, furious curses flowing between pursed lips.

FUCK! What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He could feel times starting to stretch and slow as Battle-time took over under the surge of adrenaline spiking in his chest.

He took a deep, calming breath, and locked gazes with the woman before him.

“Lady Valorn. I need you to FOCUS, okay?” He shook her, perhaps a tiny bit harder than he should have. “We’re going to survive this night. Don’t you fucking doubt it, but that requires you getting your head in the game and listening, are we clear?”

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The noblewoman gazed at him in a clear daze, nose trickling blood, but she was at least cogent enough to nod.

“Great! I’ve got an artiller regiment comprised of 47 Gunners and 25 24-pounder long guns. Highly modified artillery,” he calmly informed her, receiving an awed look in turn.

“Wait! Are… are you serious?”

Eric pointedly looked up. “You hear any shells fly in the last ten minutes?”

Her stunned expression said all that needed saying.

“Good! You don’t have to order them around, they know their role. Just provide whatever logistical support and melee range coverage they need, in case anyone manages to slip out of my net. They’re only going to be using 5 long guns for now, and hopefully none will be needed, but at least they will be there.”

Lady Valorn’s look was one of awed disbelief. “Eric Silver, are you telling me that you actually managed to capture our enemy’s entire artillery brigade?”

Eric smirked. By way of answer, he whistled towards the nearby copse of trees he had popped out of, surprisingly relieved to see all 47 of his new hires slip free of the underbrush to the surprised gasp of the Noblewoman still clinging to Eric.

“We’re all good here, Mory! Come out and say high to the officer who will effectively be our liaison with the Sylvan Faction! She’ll make sure you guys have whatever you need in terms of logistical support as well as room and board.” He gently turned her gobsmacked face to meet his own. “We are good for room and board, right, Emee?”

She shivered. “How do you even know my… yes, yes we are!”

She stiffened as if only in that moment realizing she had effectively swooned in Eric’s arms, quickly picking herself up, standing tall and dusting off her uniform.

She gave a bemused-looking Mory a careful once-over and he, looking all rebel alliance in his bomber jacket and shades, just winked and flashed a trademark maverick grin.

“Name’s Mory. I hear we’ll be working together, my lady?”

The noblewoman turned to Eric, staring at him for a long moment before quickly turning back and nodding to the artillery regiment suddenly under her care. “Yes. That’s correct. Please, allow me to lead you to the battlements. We’ve reinforced the roof which can hold over a dozen 24-pounders comfortably before trade concessions were made and we presently find ourselves without any long guns at all.”

Yini snorted. “Damn good thing you have us, elfy. Because with all the infantry soon to come your way… you’re going to need all the help you can get.” She frowned, looking around as everyone else approached, giving cautious nods to what was effectively their Sylvan Liason. “And why the hell is there no one around to secure the perimeter?”

But all Valorn could do was gaze at her in disbelief. “You’re an orc!” Her eyes widened as she took in the company as a whole. “Almost have of you… orcs!”

Yini looked offended for half a second, before laughing at Valorn’s expression. “That’s right, girlie! Half our crew is from Snorloc Constellation! Orc conquered in 3542. Sure, things were pretty ugly for awhile, and I’ve no doubt that my poor great grandmom did not go willingly into that prenuptual bed, but our king isn’t a fool. At least not on Snorloc. He married an elven champion in return for a peace accord and an elven sanctuary on the south continent, then he quickly noticed that his half-blood children were far more docile, smarter, and easier to manage that his pureblooded pigheaded progeny that his other wives popped out. So he made it a Big Boss Decree that every orc was to marry a human or elf and get ‘the big brains,’ as he called it. Blue Corp, for whatever reason, bent over backwards to make immigration an attractive option for millions of people throughout the local cluster, and next thing you know, crime, wholesale slaughter, and random acts of violence are at an all time low.”

Her cheerful explanation faded to a cold stare. “In point of fact, I’ll bet I’m at least as smart as you, and I have at least as much elf blood in my veins as your Contender here. So why don’t you wipe off that disgusted look in your face and see past whoever the hell my great grandfather was?”

Eric felt his cheeks blush just as brightly as Emee’s were, even if Yini hadn’t dared to put Eric in his place and his perhaps blatant contempt of all things orc, no matter how civil he was to everyone under his command. Because Yini was seven eighths human and elf from a world that truly had taken massive steps to civilize and advance. She was the farthest thing from the pureblood monsters who had come here to invade and terrorize Earth… even if, in fact, she had come as part of an invading force.

Emee stiffened, before solemnly bowing her head. “You are right. Thank you for the clarification. IF this one has offended…” She swallowed. “The I apologize.”

Yini smirked. “Well, that’s alright then. I’m guessing you’ve had your hands full fighting off a purebred clan, so I’m not going to hold it against you.” She turned to her fellows. “Isn’t that right, boys?”

This got everything from good-natured chuckles to cool sighs, to an outright chortle, as the largest orc-blooded among them flashed Yini a toothy grin. “Guess us full-bloods are going to pretend to be mutts like you tiny squishies?” The clearly full-blooded orc snorted.

Yini flashed her underling a hard smile. “Yes, Torc. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Got a problem with it?”

The massive and very orc orc slowly shook his porcine head. “Nope. Just checking.” He then turned his tusked countenance towards a trembling Emee Valorn. “So, yeah. Where you gonna put us, Elf girlie? A clear line of fire back towards the encampment where we were bombarding you twenty minutes ago might be a good idea.”

Eric smirked, and in very short order found himself putting five of the long gun turrets precisely where his Structural Integrity Sense indicated that the rooftop battlements really were strong enough to hold, which was pretty much anywhere he liked, delighted to see that either his mother or sister’s System shenanigans had locked in a palace as structurally sound as a solid steel vault. As to why the tallest of Elonia’s minarets had even been knocked over… he’d put that to Rank 20 Bronze weaponry perks.

He smiled with satisfaction after securing the last of the five long guns on their turning platforms before turning to Mory. “Alright, I’m off to see if I can make us even more friends who will soon be joining us in a bit of territory defense. And who knows? Maybe a dash of conquest on the side. So, are we good here?”

Yini snorted. “If you can actually pull your trick on an entire brigade, then I’ll happily bow to you and call you king. And the way you handled our long guns, I know you know what the hell you’re doing. Even if not quite so well as you probably think you do. But you still haven’t explained why you kept twenty of our 24-pounder cannon?”

Eric grinned. “Nope, I didn’t. But if all goes well… I’ll be giving the rest back to you by the end of the night.” He then lowered his voice and stepped close to Yini, who only flinched a heartbeat, when Eric whispered in her ear. “Could a non-classer safely fire the shells you’ve all got prepared, or should the gunpowder be reduced by a certain fraction?”

Yini’s eyes widened. “Fuck, you can’t be…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Half. If you want it to be idiot proof, then you’re going to have to let me prepare a certain number of shells for you if you’re not going to… are you sure you don’t want some of us with you? I mean, you did carry us all here with those revenant abominations. So long as you can get us out as fast as you did before, I think we can unleash a few volleys without getting—hey, where the hell are you going?”

But a smiling Eric just waved and cartwheeled off the ledge before racing across the palatial grounds and darting back the way he came far faster than he had ever dared before, hampered by neither panicked lowish level gunners or terrified friends in a bulki veli.

“Bloody showoff.”

Yini’s parting grumble made him grin. Before his smile turned to a hard frown. If his newest acquaintances betrayed him… he could feel the imprints of their souls upon him like he could the hairs upon his arm. Tiny, insignificant and unnoticed until the moment he chose to pull one. He gave Yini and Mory’s souls the gentlest of tugs... just a friendly mental pat on the shoulder showing his trust… and that they’d damn well better be keeping their men in line.