90. On a ride headed south to Medino, by Hirene Delta.
Ischyros immediately sued for peace after the loss of their grand fleet, and agreed to take no further action against us, or Rokmuro. Unfortunately, only very little trade has resumed between Ischyros and the rest of us. Not even La Royaume could resume trading, as the kingdom partially collapsed last cycle.
Something about succession squabbles. That’s on them. The situation degraded rapidly after the king’s death, to the point where Euryas suggested we intervene to avert a crisis.
We’ve stabilized several southern Royaume regions as trade allowed us to import more food, and due to our breakthrough in mass-producing synthetic fertilizer. An odd amount of uprisings degraded things even further, and Medulli snatched up more land northeast through the use of force.
Kantax’s reports suggested the rebellions were instigated by either Medulli, or by Brigantii in the many years prior. There’s also an off-chance that the Plaguehearts or demon-kin are to blame. Medulli’s probably just seizing the opportunity to use their forces to claim land. Some nobles opted to ally themselves with us – for the fear of uprisings in their own lands due to famine.
We’re not wholly saintly either, as we were pricing food at difficult heights to regions unless they essentially signed to become our protectorates. A profitable win-win business.
As for the southwestern Brigantii, their naval powers were quashed several times over. Most of their forces resulted in crude guerilla-style tactics, but it seemed that a lack of training or will made it difficult for them to do much. We won their hearts and minds, I hope our propaganda campaigns did the trick.
We secured the Hirene waterways, and thus ensured trade with Rokmuro and the other coastal ex-Marbordo states. Our fuel production increased from a miraculous algae strain Rujia made. It grew faster, and fatter. More oil, more vehicles.
Pulvera itself recently hit the 2600 population milestone, and I had to focus on new infrastructure as well as a better way for people to access water. We built several water tanks and a steam-powered pumphouse to supply them. The new Royaume and Brigantii engineers who emigrated here quarreled over how to build the water supply and sewage systems.
So I created the Pulveran Utilities Company, and hired them. Inkunzi and I oversaw the debates, and weighed it out.
Euryas’ loyalty knew no bounds. He’d tell me all sorts of stories regarding the corruption behind La Royaume’s nobility, and how their people paid the price. He worked hard, and would do great as the head of the Department of Finance.
Another interesting figure, Tobina, was Tobias’ eldest daughter. She served as his secretary in the southern coastal cities, where he focused on carriage construction. She had a major falling-out with her father and left. His rivals began working on arms manufacturing, perhaps to recreate my revolver. I assigned Tobina into the Department of Trade and Industry, which was now under Nora’s care.
Tobina mentioned rumors of other companies trying to make something similar to our secret early Bessemer furnace, and starting to make progress. I don’t fear spies so much, as Kantax’s borrowed time helped her fervently investigate such networks and nudged them to our benefit. I think she goes as far as to threaten anyone in a position of power, from defecting.
I secretly paid Tobias a visit down south. He was getting old in years, and his “Chryses’ Carriages” business had been failing.
He gave me a close look. “Isolus? How do you still look so young? You barely look older than my youngest.”
“Cosmetics, don’t worry. I’m an old hag at heart.”
“Amazing, friend. Well I hope you’ve forgiven me for leaving. With the way things were going, I hope it made sense.”
“Oh, that’s fine. I didn’t come here to hark on you for that. Actually came here to ask if you’d like to return to Pulvera. We could use some skilled metalworkers for certain projects.”
“That’d be.. this isn’t one of Tobina’s tricks, is it?”
“No, but she works in one of our departments. I have a different set of tasks for you, specifically.” I dropped a small bag of Vaiosy gold coins on his dilapidated desk.
“Tobias, sell off your facilities here if you want. Take your family with you and talk to Nightingale at the Shoreside Tavern. I can meet you guys there.”
…
91, summer. Pekina, southern Royaume.
Through a cascade of events, we’ve started off as a trading company and made our way to being a small merchant republic with multiple protectorate states of our own. Pulvera sat at about 4000 in population, last I checked. Only a few places in Mondo had both running water and sewage systems, so that made Pulvera more attractive; considering that a plague was mostly responsible for shattering the Marbordo empire in the first place.
We built short rails, trams, and lots of cheap housing units. Apartments with lots of shared external amenities, similar to the wealthier commie blocks I saw growing up in the old world. My parents’ first apartment was much worse than Pulveran housing. Bicycles, motorbikes with sidecars, and public transport. Pulvera’s off to a good start, better than anywhere else on Mondo. My favorite aspect has to be the creative use for light trucks, where our 6-wheelers are used as rolling shops.
Anyway, both Skippio and Lord Stromberg have gone into hiding. The Brigantii government opted for peace after they’d lost general control over roughly 60% of their land. The redistribution and delegation of land was a huge headache, so I had another civil department take care of that. Not my thing. No more.
Normally we’d just construct new outposts in settlements we occupied or allied ourselves with, but sometimes we’d buy out a sufficient structure to use as one for immediacy and future renovation. These outposts, Pulveran Peripheries, served as local courts, dispensaries, police stations, firehouses, schools, and with our recent breakthroughs in antibiotics they can now act as clinics too despite the vast shortage of healing mages.
Today I’ve had the pleasure of overseeing the mercantile acquisition of the Solleret Trading House in the heart of Pekina, west of Pulvera, to convert into a Periphery. An elderly Seylas came down to greet me – his wrinkles almost hid his fencing scars, and he used a cane past the ornate staircase railing.
“Welcome. Please, take a seat at my study.” he said, as he sluggishly turned a corner to a secluded room.
My blood boiled, but not due to him. I seethed at myself for hesitating to let my anger out at the old man. I exacted my vengeance too late, and Kantax refused to tell me where he was. Not worth it, she said. The intrusive thought of running a knife into his gut kept playing over and over in my head so viscerally and immersively that I lost track of how slow he’s moving.
He ran his disgusting hands along the walls and hallway fixtures. “Forgive me, for my eyes and legs are worn. You know, I used to be a great military leader like you.”
“Right.” I replied, eager to plug him with lead.
An aged lady, still younger than him, entered the study from the opposite end. She ran up to us.
“Oh my! I’m sorry, my husband can be a handful. Would you like some tea? Please, sit down dear. He’s so glad you’ve offered to buy out the place. Our son – well, my stepson Skippy, refused to inherit the business. Seylas, his son, and grandson couldn’t resist heroism! Men, right? I’ll be right back, dearies!”
She’s nice. But knowing this man is why so much suffering has befallen me, and knowing that his descendants carry that legacy of harm – I couldn’t help but pull out my pistol and aim it at Seylas while he sifted away through some well-kept archives.
I could so easily plaster his brains across those books. The thought of it filled me with excitement, and fear. The hurried steps of the lady approached, and I could only think of her screaming in shock as she draped herself over the corpse of her loved one. The fear of seeing that, led me to holster my pistol.
We partook in the tea and pastries, as we conducted our business. No poison, it seems. Perhaps they wish to live their last years in a quiet and distant place. I sheathed my rage, for I had no enemies here.
…
92, winter. Louvia, western Royaume.
Memoro, the god of memory, is who I’ve chosen as our patron deity. There’s eight other known deities, but for the purposes of culture Memoro should do just fine.
Brigantii is known for being opportunistic, La Royaume for its fealty and tradition, and Medulli for their nomadic armies. Rokmuro has food, and surviving elements of Sonya – the healing goddess. Ischyros is known for their craftsmanship, exports, and military prowess under the god Bestatzo. We’re an upstart polity in comparison, with no culture or religious backing.
The only culture I’m familiar with is resistance to invasion. Even then, it doesn’t reflect the rest of our protectorates. The threat of famine is one hell of a tool. Maybe ours is innovation? Please, I hope we’re not known for exporting death.
Nonetheless, I’m taking a trip around the new settlements we control. Today, I’m up north in Louvia, in an armored convoy. Tobias’ workers were able to help us develop armored cars resistant to small arms – built on the same 6-wheeler chassis, but upgraded with a hidden drive sprocket by the rear wheels for optional track bands we can quickly install for extra grip. The upgrades turned some of our commercial trucks into armored trucks that doubled as half-tracks.
I went about my duties as Isolus during the surveying period, staying weeks at a time at each town to make sure things are in order and the officials are doing their jobs.
We’ve built optical telegraph stations along major routes, which also operated as minor outposts. These towers are quick to construct, easy to standardize, and easy to upgrade. Only the officers at a few major signal junctions have access to the codebooks, which are updated regularly. These would be the fastest means of long-distance communication available without electricity, which isn’t high on my research priority list.
I’m going to be honest I really just don’t know how to get the ball rolling when it comes to electricity.
Though I’ve built a few crude batteries here and there, those’re toys compared to what we’ll need. I’ll just fund a research committee just for that. We’ve got the wealth for it.
I’ve had a long day interacting with nobles. If you were to check a continental map, Pulveran lands form a flipped L-shape. We ran a semaphore line down south along the Hirene river to the coastal town of Medino. Another line sat along the westward road through Valdeno, Pekina, and Louvia, among others.
Rumi became my personal armored car’s driver, and Solomon left his bookbinding job to enlist where he is now the gunner for our turret. I commanded the vehicle, and the convoys by signal flag. We don’t have tanks yet, since these cheap convertible trucks do a decent enough job at everything. I’m thinking of ways to introduce intercoms.
Night dawned upon us, and the glowing ring stretching across the sky draped across the stars; the sight made the coastal drive so much more satisfying.
We parked by the ancient Louvian lighthouse, where we’d be staying. Several other convoy trucks followed us, and should set themselves up shortly. Some of the men were vandalizing the masonry with their shovel-multitools, and I gave them a warning.
Rumi was eating dinner near a cliff, and I joined her.
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“Ever seen the ocean before?” I asked.
“I grew up by it, in Royaume’s mainland capital, Aurore.”
“I’ve heard of it. How was it there?”
“Boring. I never got to leave home.”
She took a bite off of her sandwich, and I offered her some tea to go with it. “Thank you,” Rumi replied. “I haven’t had tea in a long while. The commissary really should sell this kind of thing.”
“It’s Lumorivan tea, that’s traveled thousands of leagues to get to your cup. Kind of insane, isn’t it?”
Ensign Rumi nodded. “Tastes just like it used to.”
Makes me wonder what her life was like. She took a moment to gaze out into the waves crashing past the Kosmikos-era ruins dotting the coast, before looking up to the full moon.
“Hey, miss. What’s it like to lead?” she asked.
“I can’t say for sure. It’s difficult. You seem too young to be asking stuff like that. Do you mean it in a squad-level way?”
“Being responsible for countless lives, was what I meant.”
I pondered on an answer, until I got lost in my thoughts. Another soldier yelled from the lighthouse, his voice alarmed us.
“Ma’am, large unidentified raft! Filled to the brim with soldiers, approaching the shore, bearing 245! Your orders?”
Rumi walked up to our armored car and hopped in.
I called out. “Send three other cars to follow us.”
Solomon had been sleeping in the turret the entire time. We let him rest as we drove down to the shore to intercept the raft. I used my binoculars and saw how vibrantly colored their clothes were, but they had long weapons, possibly spears. I had some troops quickly load up extra supplies just in case.
We drove off the dirt road and onto the beach, where the rough ride woke Solomon up. Rumi explained the situation to him and he manned the 15mm machinegun. We parked in front of where the raft was about to land. I stood outside the car as it idled. We had two guys walk up to the raft, which had been dragged along to the shore by two mermaids and a merman. I walked with Rumi towards them.
As the raft hit shore, two of them hissed and returned into the water. One of the mermaids turned to us and spoke.
“Please take care of this new bunch. They are often unfamiliar with this land,” she said.
The siren was missing her right hand. I saw the raft filled with sailors of smaller stature and severe starvation. I called to the rest of the troops to shoulder their rifles and bring out the emergency supplies – then I ran towards the raft and called out to the scaled one, who was now slithering back into the waters.
“What?” she asked, with her head barely above water.
“Please, come see me here under the next full moon.”
“What is this request.. for?”
I rolled up my left sleeve, and quickly unlatched my prosthetic arm in a way that those behind me couldn’t see. “I’d like to be friends, and give you a gift by then. What’s your name?”
Her eyes widened, before shying away a little.
“Next full moon. Yesss. Name is Wiremu.”
She turned and gracefully swam away.
I reattached my prosthetic arm and rewore my left glove, calling the other soldiers to help me check the thirteen people on the raft. A few bones littered the floor, but six skulls were found. Each with a single bullet hole from one side to the next. Their long staves were triple-barreled matchlock handguns similar to what Brigantii had used against us in the past, but much more refined.
The passengers were all asleep in rags, except one that had no pulse and had passed away earlier that evening. They all slowly woke up one after another, to which we tended to their wounds and slowly fed them. Almost all of them were in a state of delirium, except a scarfed one in ornate yellow brigandine armor.
She was the only survivor who didn’t wear rags, and she spoke in a foreign language – one whose syllables I couldn’t even decipher by ear. These were Jade survivors, no doubt.
Rumi approached and interpreted it a little.
“We had a servant from across the ocean, and he kept prostrating himself whenever he made mistakes. I recognize their word of thanks, and she’s probably thanking you along the lines of saving her and her crew. Probably,” Rumi explained.
The haggard woman in a checkered scarf stumbled to the raft and took her gun staff. This alarmed the other soldiers, but only until she knelt in front of me and handed me the intricately engraved quad-barreled gun. It’s mediocre compared to the rifles we all carry, but I kneeled and held her shoulder.
“Isolus.” I pointed to myself. “I-so-lus.”
She nodded, then perked up and pointed to herself.
“Aisorus! Kyrin. Kai-rin.” she said, with an earnest look.
I earnestly, and gently, shook her hands. “Kylin, huh?”
I had the soldiers share their water provisions and some of the rations we brought along, mostly gorosi bread with some Valdeno meat and Pekina cheese. The blood smeared on the sailors’ clothes with a distinct lack of wounds, are telling of what they had to go through to survive. We had them kept at the new Louvia outpost for further processing.
I asked Rumi where her servant went, and she said ‘Watari’ had bought his freedom and decided to go south. I relayed this information to be inquired among the locals.
Soon, I got started on Wiremu’s gift by heading to the makeshift airstrip a few kilometers away and had Arzo head back to Pulvera to request one ingot of high-chromium steel, and two ingots of sample D3047 from Nora, which was an accidental batch of rubber with an increased resistance towards seawater. Might end up using it for gaskets and seals in the future, unless we come up with something better.
The next day, an old man named Watari was located in the outskirts of Louvia. We drove there, and I arranged a sweet deal for him to interpret what the Jade sailors had to say, and to teach them our common language in return. Rumi had a word with him in private, and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. I caught a gist around her wanting him to stay quiet about something.
Two days later, Arzo returned with what I asked for. I rented out a smithy and got started on a prosthetic metal hand with a rubber coating and liner for a more comfortable socket.
Wiremu’s going to love this. I hope.
…
93. On board the PNS Onslaught.
Kylin and her crew are some of the hardiest sailors I’ve ever met. They’re here to observe our latest naval operation.
Still, Kylin and her closest subordinates bowed to me. “Isorus-eonni, good is your gunkan – warship. Very good. Good of all good I have seen.”
Old man Watari explained her enthusiasm in clearer language. He told me a lot about their culture, and how he too was once a Jade sailor that washed up ashore. He mentioned that the long scarves she and her other companions wore are symbols of obligation and honor. Watari pulled out an old fabric from his pocket, saying that although he doesn’t bring his military scarf around anymore, he keeps a piece with him as his own sudariomo.
“Such scarves are given by our families, or clans, or passed down by those who perished. Hers bears the unique colors and patterns of the House of Serpents – and you could see it in her eyes. She is a daughter of a concubine from that house, and the emperor. Emperor Jin was still a young prince when I left.”
Kylin was busy discussing things with her officers, and I leaned even closer to Watari. “So what, like a princess?” I asked.
“No, nothing like Rumi. It would take dozens of her siblings to perish for her to be in power. Or who knows, maybe not.”
“Hm? What was that about Rumi?”
Watari turned away. “Nothing. Forget it.”
Wiremu tugged on my sleeve. Her prosthetic hand is still in good condition after about a cycle. She’s from a large tribe of sea-dwellers, and had been helping Jade survivors make it to the Marbordo coasts for decades. She and Kylin have become good friends, whereas Wiremu doesn’t know how to handle praise and Kylin has no shortage of it to give.
I asked. “Is this where the ‘Bak-nawa’ lives?”
“Yesss. Not far from here,” Wiremu replied.
We were sailing in the middle of the Thunderous Ocean. Not only is the weather unfavorable for sailing ships, but the waves are often tall enough to clear our decks.
Anything and anyone not fastened would be swept away, unless we had a bigger boat. But we’re safe inside the Onslaught’s bridge. Our scout plane was sent out to find clues, and we’ve seen it circle a certain area for the past bit. We got Arzo to fly it, because Rumi absolutely refused to get on a boat or fly again. Phaedra’s still out cold, but being taken care of.
There. We could see the moving darkness across the ocean surface. Wiremu made an agreement with me that if I had it killed, she’d organize her tribe to help out with resource gathering and naval operations. ‘It’ was a colossal ancient creature. Kylin called it the “Umibozu”, and claimed it to be just a boogieman to keep sailors in line, because the real threat were barbarian patrols stopping them from crossing safer waters for help.
I probably shouldn’t let Kylin meet Inkunzi.
As I pondered the risks of that, a tentacle bursting with a dark aura sprang out of the water and almost swatted the scout plane from the sky. Everyone stood in awe as they saw the rest of the creature rise from the water. The plane kept circling – being a more advanced biplane compared to the Render. It flew higher and higher to avoid the monster’s grasp.
It was a largely shadowy figure, covered in an iridescent sheen over a black base. It almost looked humanoid, just without eyes – and its two arms were replaced with six or so tentacles. It raised itself out of the water as a reverse-whirlpool pushed it up.
This must have been the Cursed Avatar of Vox, “Acherona” is an ancient champion that Inkunzi spoke to me of. Legend claimed she had wished and sacrificed so much to attain the power to protect those she cared about during the collapse of the Kosmikos. This was also a childhood story common in Rokmuro, and I still remember Arsalan’s narration of it.
Perhaps it’s time to put an end to that legend.
We were trailed by two other ships, the PNS Incursion and the PNS Torrent. We signaled to spread out, and to fire torpedoes when I flare a signal. Arzo’s scout plane flew further and further into the clouds while dropping signal flare, and lost the attention of Acherona – she now focused her eyeless gaze to our three ships. The signal flares gave us a constant measurement to gauge the target’s size and our distance away.
Wiremu was down in prayer, and Kylin ran up to the front of the bridge, glued to the windows. Her breathing and smiling seemed more than unnatural. The waves crashed on us like we’ve run aground. I took the flare gun and walked out of the bridge to fire it into the sky.
All ships made sharp turns and unleashed their salvoes of torpedoes. We’ve made a gyroscopic upgrade to the torpedoes to keep them guided straight, so we don’t miss.
Acherona waved her array of tentacles across the ocean surface, creating massive waves towards us. All three ships turned towards the waves to push through the impact, and turned to the other side to fire their second volley of torpedoes. All ships were then signaled to fall back.
The avatar began chasing after us – but only moments later did we see the trails of torpedoes climb up the mountain of water that raised Acheron.
Multiple flashes in the distance occurred, as the explosives laid waste to Acheron’s waist. The boom was heard seconds after. She’d burst into blue flames atop the water, and she quickly dove to put them out. It was almost like she bled napalm.
She came back out of the water seemingly thrice as vengeful. The fire was put out, but dozens more tentacles rose out of the water. Each with a tip pointed into the sky. Lightning stormed down from above and ignited each tentacle tip with azure fire. She let out a screech and began spraying liquid fire across us. Jac and the other captains focused on steering away from flames. Wiremu prayed louder and louder, and was joined by Kylin’s officers. Kylin herself, with labored breathing and red cheeks, was somehow enamored by the spectacle all around us.
Glowing ghost ships began rising out of the waters, all of various make and model spanning thousands of years. They dashed towards us and fired countless magical arrows, while blocking most of the second torpedo volley. Most.
Fog rose as we saw ghastly skeleton-like figures atop the various ships, many of whom still wore the uniforms they perished in. Some swung over or crawled up and climbed aboard, to which we had to fire our rifles to keep them off. Kylin and her officers used their bladed gun-staffs to cut through countless skeletons on the deck with martial prowess we’ve rarely seen on Mondo.
Amidst the ghastly blasts, a few more torps finally struck her just as we were about to fire the third volley. We saw the explosions, then heard them. Acherona began twirling violently, with a screech that had all of us stumbling to cover our ears. Some were rolling on the ground. Kylin and her men let out a cheer that could slowly be heard more and more as the colossus’ wailing died down further. It was over. The ghost ships faded into the fog.
We picked up the scout plane afterwards. Arzo had suffered some level of hearing loss due to his proximity. The ocean ran black and blue as Acherona’s blood had spread, carrying along its sorrowful flames for days on end. Wiremu’s joyful singing raised everyone’s spirits. I was a little bit sad we couldn’t properly harvest most of that special blue-burning oil, however.
The storms and waves had subsided. The great ocean was no longer as much of a threat to sailors. Wiremu later returned to her people and rejoiced, as their own sacred “Tohora” creatures were no longer being slaughtered by Acherona.
She agreed to help us when it came to matters of food, and mining. I asked her about nuggets of ores on the seabed near undersea volcanoes, and yes she had some collected. Our first decent source of what I once knew as “rare earth minerals” are now within my reach. We gave them useful tools and advanced materials in return.
I started funding and guiding experiments into electricity, along with the development of safer advanced airships using both helium and hydrogen to project our economic power, and to better organize a volunteer army across Pulveran lands.
Kylin, however, would spend several more cycles with me. I manipulated her into getting along with Inkunzi when she knew our language better. They got along, moderately well. For now.
The war with Medulli seemed inevitable, and I could use as many talented individuals as possible.