Plinius moved his shield to block Appius’s strike and then he activated [Grand Slash] with his blunted axe. The metal gleamed, reflecting the rays of the sun, and smashed against Appius’s shield. His sparring partner was thrown back, hissing. Catching the strength of that blow, even with a shield, meant that the force would still rush through your arm and shoulder joints. Tendons and muscles would strain to parry the skill-infused attack, sometimes exceeding their limits.
Even if he held back, it wouldn’t be the first time Plinius broke bones or dislocated a shoulder during sparring. He did so to stay sharp—it was a risk for his men, on the one hand, but it also kept everyone on their toes. It was true that injuries could end your career, but broken bones healed perfectly with the curing hands of a [Healer]. And so, why hold back? Why not go at it with all you have?
“[Sergeant],” Appius stood to attention, beaten up. “You win.”
Plinius smiled at his friend, shaking his head.
“You don’t want to continue? I promised I would whoop your ass if you created more problems in the city. A homeless person went to denounce you to the Watch. They said you disrespected Vespasianus.”
Appius spit on the ground upon hearing that name. All the other [Soldiers] and [Sergeants] around had disgusted expressions on their faces as well.
Even though the Royal Family loved to put statues of Vespasianus throughout the Kingdom of Lucerna, most [Soldiers] despised the cowardly [Prince]. In fact, most [Soldiers] believed that the dead prince represented all the wrong ideals the Elves had learned under his rule–like tolerance for Humans.
“You know that the Watch is not going to push it in this instance,” Plinius continued. “But keep it under wraps. If a [Royal Guard] ever heard of that…”
Those two words sobered Appius up quickly. [Soldiers] were on the front line of any conflict against aggressors, but they had a degree of freedom that the [Royal Guards] did not have. However, [Soldiers] didn’t have even one-tenth of the resources the [Royal Guard] was reared with. They were the elite of the elite and only answered to the [King] or [Queen]. And most importantly, they could easily crush the army at any moment.
[Generals], instead, were the ones at the head of the military. While they did report to the crown, they also reported to the local administration. In fact, there was a delicate power balance between [Generals], [Mayors], and [Captains] of the Watch.
What the parties not involved didn’t know was that the greatest deterrent was the [Royal Guard]. Every other party might have tried something if there hadn’t been the threat of the crown’s special force looming over their heads.
“I’ll be careful,” Appius sighed. “I almost caught that filthy Human working at your girlfriend’s bakery. We’ve got a little marked tree if you know what I mean.”
Plinius licked his teeth, mulling over Appius’s words.
“Don’t go overboard. Just run him out of Amorium. The Watch is on our case, and the military review will be delivered after the Valerii party.”
“Don’t worry,” Appius said with a sardonic smile. “You know I’m good at what I do. And I can’t wait until you become a [General]. Imagine what we could get away with at that point. We could finally start cleansing this kingdom.”
Sighing, the [Sergeant] nodded.
“The road is still long, Appius. We need to show that our platoon has outperformed everybody else. I have a mission sitting on my plate that could get us all promoted. But we’ll need to arrange everything. It’s going to take months before we get a real shot at it. It’s hard getting promotions in times of peace.”
“Well–”
“Appius,” Plinius cut him off, “I need you to be focused. You want to play around in the city? Do it. But don’t do anything that will come bite us in the ass. You know the [Generals] don’t give a damn about the Watch, right? But I need you to stay on top of your training. And I need to go study now.”
The [Sergeant] did not wait for an answer. It would have been pointless. He was in charge, and therefore, he dictated the rules in his platoon. What really mattered was that he was on track for promotion. He was currently 27 years old.
Plinius had spent his youth fighting and becoming an excellent individual fighter. He had earned more than ten levels in [Warrior] before he was 16 years of age. But then, he joined the military. And it had thrown him for a loop. Formation and discipline had been hard to get, but he had risen to [Sergeant] before 21. Now, he had led more missions than any other [Sergeant] he knew. He was a level 32 [Ironfist Sergeant] and the talent of a generation.
For all he loved to mess around with Flaminia and indulge in vices occasionally, he was otherwise laser-focused on getting his promotion.
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I will bring this country back to greatness, Plinius thought to himself as he removed his chest piece and took a towel to clean himself.
After going back to his room, he laid a book down on his desk; it described all the conflicts the Elves had faced since they had come to Epretos. When he was younger, he thought fighting would be the most important thing. But as he grew, he realized why most [Generals] were accompanied by [Strategists].
“Plinius,” he heard someone knocking at his door.
He got up and opened it to face the [General].
“[General],” Plinius suddenly stood to attention and saluted his superior.
“At rest, [Sergeant],” the [General] was an old man with a head full of white hair. “We need to talk. Is your room secured?”
Plinius shook his head, and the [General] nodded.
“Follow me, then.”
“Yes, sir.”
…
Plinius entered the war room that they used to hold confidential meetings.
“Do you know why I came to fetch you, lad?” The general rubbed his face and took a loaf of bread from a cupboard.
“No, sir.”
Cutting into the bread with his own knife, [General] Aurelianus slowly spread some peach jam on it. He paused before taking his first bite, prolonging the silence to make Plinius uncomfortable. He didn’t look the part, but Aurelianus, in Plinius’s books, was the most calculated person he had ever met. Not that he would have voiced that thought aloud, though.
“I know you want the mission,” the [General] said, leaving his words to linger.
“Yes, sir. I have been preparing for it. I even took the time to draw a list for the strike force that–”
The general raised a hand to interrupt him as he took another bite. After slowly chewing loudly and nodding to the fragrance of the fresh bread, he stared back at Plinius.
“High command might give you the mission.”
“Sir, it’s an honor to–”
“Might, lad,” the [General] looked displeased by the interruption. “I said might. I get the last say. You need me behind that ass of yours to get the mission and, eventually, the promotion. You would be instantly promoted to [Captain] and on a fast track to [General] in less than five years if you don’t shit the bed. Now, show me that you are not a complete idiot. Do you know what the first requirement to be a [General] is?”
Plinius gazed upon the elderly man and sensed that any conjecture he may have would be met with disapproval if he were to express it.
“No, sir.”
“Good answer. You don’t,” the [General] scarfed down the rest of the food and started drumming his fingers on the table. “Politics. Nobles backing you. Consensus between troops and high command.”
Plinius swallowed.
He grew up as a poor kid. His older sisters had been taking care of the house for the most part after his mother had drunk herself to death. For all he wasn’t ashamed of his upbringing, knowing what kind of sacrifices his siblings had to make, he also knew he wasn’t good at politics because of it.
“Sir, I–”
“I know, lad. You don’t fucking know shit,” the [General] growled and turned his eyes to the ceiling. “I wish a vine would come down from the World’s Tree and strangle me; trust me.”
“Sir.”
The [General] eyed the closed doors of the war room. The enchantments took off when the room was sealed, meaning that this was the safest place to speak.
“I have a checklist for you, Plinius. If you want to become a [General] and not get stabbed in your sleep, I need you to follow every single word I spit in your face to the letter. Are we clear?”
Plinius nodded eagerly.
“Yes, sir. To the letter. I swear.”
“Good, [Sergeant]. So, here’s what we are going to do. First, I need you to get married to someone in the Valerii family as soon as we promote you to [Captain]. That’s before the mission. Nobility gets tax exemptions if they participate in the military. That’s how they made sure the nobles would die in the trenches instead of bothering the crown with their entitled requests. So, you are going to the Valerii party without a woman. I need you to look sharp and have your men boast about your levels and capacities. I will grease hands with the head of the family. They will be interested in having you in their lineage because of your high level. You know that high-level people make for better children, right?”
“I have only heard about it, sir. I wasn’t sure it was true.”
“It is, lad. Now, are you following? I’ll take questions only if you are confused about something. If you are not, what you’ll have to do is non-negotiable. So?”
“I understand, sir.”
“Perfect. Then, you will dress in your best uniform. Parade yourself around. Be confident and, most of all, smile. Do not cause trouble. You need to look like a natural leader, Plinius. The nobles are wolves. If they smell fear or incapacity to do what’s necessary, they will never consider you as a candidate.”
“Once that’s done, I’ll start arranging things with them. If they have a good impression of you, you’ll marry one of their daughters. That’ll give you a lot of political currency to spend with the high command. From there onward, you are on your own with the family, and you’ll represent Amorium and will forever be part of the Valerii interests.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Aurelianus looked at Plinius, knowing he was throwing a lamb to the wolves.
“Son, you will need to be smart around them. Rely on your wife, whomever that will be. Your success will be hers. She’ll know how to navigate politics; let her teach you. Do not act prideful when you are alone with her. She will have been playing those games since she was born–you will be a street rat playing with cats. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Once the marriage is in the bag, you’ll need to put a child in your wife. As soon as the pregnancy is confirmed, you’ll get the mission.”
“Sir?” Plinius frowned. “Why?”
“Why? Because you might die, son. They might not have you in their family anymore, but they want successful heirs along with tax breaks. Your son or daughter would be raised by the Valerii to be the [General] you couldn’t be. Is that clear? Do you need me to hold your hand as you take care of your future wife’s pussy? Or can you do that on your own?”
“Sir, sorry, sir. I will take care of it,” Plinius said, blushing.
“Great. Then, once you have an heir, you will lead the mission. It is going to take a while, anyway. If you succeed, the Valerii will support you. If you don’t, you’ll die, which makes it a non-problem.”
Plinius nodded, excited. If all he had to do to get the mission was to fuck some noblewoman, he would do so with pleasure.
“You are dismissed, [Sergeant]. If this conversation touches anyone else’s ears, you’ll find your head rolling the next day. Go.”
Plinius saluted the [General] and swiftly exited the war room.