"Master Serpent, several warmasters wish to meet with you," Mari's voice interrupted Ordyntsev's thoughts as she descended into his personal underground refuge.
"Very well, call them in," Stas set aside the scroll he was just reading and clasped his hands together on his knees.
A few dozen seconds later, the richly embroidered fabric covering the entrance was pulled aside, and three warmasters stepped in.
Seeing Stas, they lined up in an orderly fashion, waiting for further instructions.
"I take it you're the ones who expressed a desire to serve under my command?" the earthling asked calmly, his gaze pausing on each of the present warmasters. But in truth, he was only interested in the opinions of two of them.
The first was Ayami Sumada – stunningly beautiful in the past, she had lost half of her face in the battle for Gaibatsu. Now, she wore a mask piece that concealed her disfigurement.
At the beginning of their acquaintance, Stas had offered her a vague hope for healing, but she had refused, deciding to voluntarily bear this "cross."
Ordyntsev didn't insist, for although she was strong, such mad veteran warmasters hardly topped his list of desires.
Besides the woman herself, there was her remaining disciple. The lad looked nervous, afraid to meet Stas's eyes and constantly shifting his gaze to the floor.
Having heard that Shiro the Serpent was assembling his own squad to assist and transport the wounded to the healers, some of the warmasters expressed a desire to serve under his leadership.
For this purpose, they applied to the command headquarters for a transfer, and some requests were even approved.
Ordyntsev didn't have to rack his brains to guess why she was here.
In the depths of the warmaster's eyes, a treacherous fear curled like a venomous centipede. She was terrified of what she would soon have to endure.
And judging by how she unconsciously glanced at her last disciple, she was pinning her hopes on joining the healers' guard to keep herself as far removed from the battlefield's chaos as possible.
Yes, it was sheer cowardice, but Ordyntsev couldn't blame her for it. Only those who have looked death in the eye had any right to criticize her. Sometimes, a person faces so many life hardships that trying to circumvent them is the only way to stay sane.
The second warmaster was far more interesting.
Yoshito Sumada – the warmaster who, in gratitude for his healing, had gifted him the armor he had won from a samurai.
That day, Stas remembered him as a sloppy and frivolous man who nevertheless was at the level of a proficient advanced warmaster, just like Ayami.
"Ayami, the third squad will be under your command. You will be responsible for defending the hospital. Your disciple will join your squad as well. You are dismissed."
"Thank you, master," said the woman, bowing deeply under the astonished gaze of the apprentice before swiftly exiting the room. The apprentice, coming to his senses, hurried after her.
"And now you," Stas stared sternly at Yoshito when they were left alone. "I don't like what I don't understand. I thought we had settled our debts. So why did you decide to transfer to the... rear?"
Ordyntsev emphasized the last word. It was not hard to understand that anyone who so eagerly wanted to protect the healers could be called a coward.
And it's one thing if you were transferred here by random order from above and quite another to have willingly chosen it for yourself.
"Shiro-sama, you are so stern that all thoughts flew out of my head," the man feigned confusion, slapping his forehead. "Alright, alright, I remember now," the warmaster hastened to add, seeing the Serpent's expression.
The man opened his mouth to speak but froze under the piercing gaze of his interlocutor.
"I want to warn you, Yoshito," Ordyntsev said with gravity, leaning his head slightly forward. "I really dislike being taken for a fool. So, if you intend to feed me some lie, you'd be better off just turning around and leaving right now. Otherwise, things could end... Messily, if you understand what I mean."
"Can I be frank, Shiro-sama? It's just that, you know, it's a delicate matter..." The warmaster shifted gears, dropping some of his joking tone. Some of it, but not all. Yoshito would sooner die than lose all his frivolity.
"If it doesn't harm the Sumada clan, I won't speak of what I hear here," Ordyntsev made a deliberately indifferent face. "But I advise you not to waste my time in vain."
"Yes, of course," Yoshito fidgeted. "The thing is, I really love women. And, it's no secret, women also love me," the man's voice rang with poorly hidden pride. "You probably know. A word here, a word there, tell her how you..."
"Yo-shi-to."
"Ah, right! In short, I recently met a girl. And all was well at first; she liked me, and I liked her. We met secretly several times, and it seemed there were no problems. But then I found out that her grandfather turned out to be the elder of the Oro family! And to top it off, that silly girl told her friends about me!"
"And then her beloved 'grandpa' learned about you, didn't he?" Despite all his self-control, the corners of the earthling's lips lifted slightly. He remembered the Oro family elder well, renowned for an exceptionally nasty and quarrelsome character. Besides, he was dissatisfied with Stas's rise, which also posed its problems. The cherry on top was that he was the first to side with Jishin, so theoretically, they were allies.
"Uh-huh," Yoshito nodded gloomily. "And if I want to keep my ba... I mean, my life, then I need to urgently change my place of service. And then I thought..."
"And then you heard about my confrontation with this esteemed elder and decided that serving under me was the best way out?" Stas asked, satisfied. "That he won't reach you here?"
"Well, yes," the man chuckled nervously. "Something like that."
"Then I have just one question for you," Ordyntsev leaned back. "Why do you think it's worth it for me to further quarrel with Elder Mitsuo for your sake?"
"I can pay..." Yoshito started, but Stas cut him off.
"I'm afraid such an offer doesn't interest me. Material values come and go, but loyal service lasts."
"Service?" the man tensed.
"Just that," Stas pulled out a clean scroll and laid it before him. "Right now, you'll write something here, sign it with your name, and imprint it with prana. And if I find your service unsatisfactory, this scroll will be seen by the Sumada leadership."
"That's blackmail!" the warmaster protested, clenching his fists in irritation. The atmosphere in the room became tense.
"No, these are just guarantees. Besides, no one is forcing you," Ordyntsev chuckled, slowly reaching for the scroll. "And if you're not interested in my offer, I insist no further. No means no."
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Wait," the warmaster quickly leaned over and snatched up the scroll. "I need to think. This is too unexpected."
"Think," Ordyntsev agreed graciously. "You have a couple of minutes. And no, I won't give you more, decide right now."
Yoshito said nothing, but from his look, it was clear he had a lot to say.
"I agree," the gritting of teeth was clearly audible. Yoshito quickly wrote what Ordyntsev dictated and pressed his thumb to the ink, infusing it with prana in a certain way.
Now, it wouldn't dissipate for a long time.
"Excellent," Stas carefully read the written and hid it in a sealing scroll. "Then I won't keep you any longer. Your squad is the fourth. As for Mitsuo-san, you needn't worry. As long as I live, he won't get to you."
Watching the retreating man, Ordyntsev nodded. As he expected, his personality and fame were enough to start attracting people to him.
Yes, the likes of Yoshito and Ayami were far from the best choice, but their strength could not be overlooked.
Of course, one was a coward and the other a blabbermouth, but if priorities were set correctly and his vision was communicated to them, they would fight even more fiercely than ordinary warriors.
And since he had a free moment now, Stanislav decided to work on his new creation, which naturally stemmed from the immortality technique.
*****
"You were right, Shiro-sama," Mari's father remarked melancholically, his hand cupped above his eyes like a visor as he surveyed the sprawling front before them. "Somehow, the Alliance has learned of our plans."
Ordyntsev mentally cursed, sensing the approaching problems with his spinal cord.
The Sumada were supposed to break through the front of the southern clans' alliance unexpectedly, then move inward, striking at several key supply centers and lines. To this end, the command did everything possible to maintain secrecy, conducting deliveries and reconnaissance with the most loyal of their units.
As Stas heard, those travelers or traders unlucky enough to notice something awaited captivity or even death.
"There are so many of them there," Kizashi whispered in shock, his eyes wide as he examined the Alliance's battle formations set up in the distance.
The mocking hiss of Leviathan quickly brought him back to his senses. The alchemist didn't need to understand the snake language to realize that the hissing clearly carried mockery.
"Quiet," Stas snapped, cutting off the emerging conflict. "You can fight later. If you survive." The earthling's grim warning made them simmer down.
Even though they were all behind the Sumada army now, an unpleasant chill was creeping towards their hearts.
Since the Alliance members had learned of their advance, they had prepared well for defense. Of course, they had way fewer warmasters with earth techniques among them, but even that was enough to seriously complicate the attackers' lives.
The edges of the front stretched far into the distance. Because of this, the attackers also had to spread out significantly to avoid a counterattack on the flank.
Stas even couldn't say for sure how many warmasters were concentrated here right now.
One thing was certain – there were thousands.
Even by rough estimates, this battle would rightfully become the most grandiose this world had seen in the past hundred years.
Both the Sumada and the Alliance had brought multiple armies here in hopes of gaining a numerical advantage. But in the end, their forces were still roughly equal.
And although Ordyntsev's mobile hospital was situated in the rear, it hardly mattered.
The air literally carried the salty taste of blood and the bitter taste of bile.
After all, the opponents' ranks included those who, in terms of destructive power, were not at all inferior to Earth's missile batteries and sometimes even surpassed them.
Supreme warmasters, solitary figures surrounded only by their servants and disciples, positioned midway between the hospital and the battle lines of ordinary warmasters.
Their purpose was to confront the enemy supremes.
The power of these people created a paradoxical situation where the society of warmasters was not very eager to make full use of their might.
And it made sense.
Against the combined strike of the supremes, ordinary warmasters, even veterans, could simply offer no resistance.
Whatever element these monsters in human guise used, the result would be the same - the death of all on the opposite end of the battlefield.
To the list of their capabilities, one could also add unexpected strikes on civilians with supreme techniques and other "joys of life."
Thus, a full-scale war involving supremes would eventually turn into a war exclusively of the supremes, as all other warmasters would have died by then. Along the way, the relatives of all participating sides would be sent to the hereafter.
Because of this, unofficial rules were created, where the supremes tried to fight only with the supremes, while ordinary warmasters fought with ordinary ones.
That's why, at this moment, the supremes stood indifferently on both sides of the battle, even though their powers were already enough to hit with techniques even at such a distance.
Not far from the supremes was one of the visible command posts. The reserve regiments, whose purpose was to eliminate a possible breakthrough or reinforce a position, were also stationed there.
Stas turned and carefully examined his unit. Each of his fighters and healers was a coiled spring, ready to straighten out at the first order of their commander.
The healers were the furthest behind. They were divided into those who carried heavy backpacks with consumables and those equipped lightly. If the latter were to be focused exclusively on healing and stabilizing the incoming wounded, the former would have to deploy the hospital itself each time they changed positions.
Because the offensive was to be continuous, and they could not be too far from the army, they would have to move the hospital forward time and again.
Next were the guards. Even now, they had already formed a loose ring around the healers, casting vigilant glances around. Their task was complicated by the need not just to kill potential enemies but also to prevent enemy techniques from reaching the wounded.
This meant that defense was the priority.
And finally, the most dangerous role of all - the orderlies. These were the ones who would be in the very heart of the battle, searching for wounded fighters and delivering them to the hospital.
Stas personally selected each of them, conducting a real interview. In their case, he gave preference to speed, endurance, and stealth.
On the sleeves of these fighters was tied a red cloth. Stas didn't try to make a "red cross," as some of the clans of warmasters had a similar sign, which could create confusion.
Nonetheless, he asked the command to convey to the present Sumada the importance of these fighters, asking them to provide support if necessary.
As reported to him, not all warmasters appreciated the invention, but overall public opinion approved of the idea.
"When will you start already?" a tired voice beside him distracted Stas from his thoughts. "I thought you warmasters loved to fight. And so far, you're just wasting your time and mine."
Minoru's sarcastic speech didn't touch Stas, but it clearly did not sit well with the warmasters surrounding him, who looked at the yokai with irritation. However, it didn't go beyond looks.
The reason for this was simple. Earlier, in a "friendly duel," Minoru easily wiped the floor with two passing veteran warmasters.
The latter thought it amusing to comment on the lamia's appearance, issuing a couple of dubious compliments.
As a result, the ancient yokai vividly demonstrated why she was one of the most dangerous creatures in this world.
And she hardly needed any techniques for that.
Speed, strength, and masterful control of a small amount of water were enough to beat the opponents so badly that Stas had to heal them hastily.
The displayed mastery so impressed the bystanders that no one else teased her.
However, there was a silver lining. Since everyone knew with whom Minoru had come, Shiro the Serpent's reputation grew significantly.
The public already knew that Kenta was a supreme warmaster, and now Minoru was perceived to share the same rank.
Two supreme warmasters loyal to you personally is a serious claim to universal respect.
One must not forget that Ordyntsev himself was also no simple character.
That's why Stas's subordinates, glancing at the leadership standing ahead, felt inspired.
Because, unlike the ordinary warmasters in the distance, nearly three supremes were protecting them!
Besides all those listed, Leviathan and Kizashi were also by Ordyntsev's side. Interestingly, both prepared for battle to the maximum.
If Leviathan literally hung herself with sharp iron objects, then the alchemist carried numerous deadly and healing elixirs.
During the preparation, Stas had a chance to check Kizashi's skills, and he was a bit reassured – the young alchemist wasn't hopeless and did possess certain skills.
The real question was how he would comport himself in actual combat. Could it be he would falter at the sight of the very first bloodshed?
The deep signal of the horns echoed through the surroundings, making everyone tense up even more.
It was an order to be ready to attack.
The ranks of warmasters stirred. Right now, they all began to accelerate the prana moving within them and form the foundations for attacking and defensive techniques.
'War of the superhumans in the most terrible sense of the word,' Stas shook his head. 'In the name of all gods, how did I manage to find myself in something like this?'
But he didn't have long to ponder this topic.
The second signal made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
It was the order to begin the attack.
The most difficult step was the first. If initially, the sea of Sumada warriors moved uncertainly slowly, then with each subsequent step, their speed only grew.
After a couple of seconds, they furiously rushed forward with battle cries, their minds focused solely on clutching at the enemy's throat ahead.
Because of their speed, the scene unfolding from afar defied one's sense of reality.
But who, if not Stas, knew that all this was for real.
Standing in the distance on earthen walls and fortifications, the Alliance warriors patiently waited, saving prana until their enemies reached the guaranteed hit range.
Earlier, they had destroyed all the trees around so that the enemy could not approach the front line unnoticed. This forced the running warmasters to keep jumping over huge overturned stumps, whose dry roots menacingly threatened the sky.
Stas involuntarily rejoiced that today was a sunny day. Fighting in the mud or knee-deep in the water again did not appeal to him.