Warning : This bonus chapter takes place at the beginning of the book, before Rebirth becomes an Archduchy, but after Alexandra's main army units departed Darthar and Ghost began stockpiling gear in the city, somewhere between chapters 282 and 293. This isn't in the author's notes since I know they don't show up for everyone and most people skip them anyway.

Bonus Chapter - Scarlet Swords

Red Sands Desert, Principality of Rebirth

City of Darthar

"Sir, we have a visitor."

Gothram Edingburgh, commander of the Scarlet Swords mercenary company, looked up from his bowl of porridge at his executive officer.

"A visitor? To our somptuous quarters?" He chuckled as he waved his spoon at their surroundings, but his mirth died at his executive's officer deadpan gaze.

The old woman was rarely the wonder of parties, but she usually had some sparks of humor. You couldn't survive this long as a soldier, let alone a mercenary, without it.

"Yes." Simply said Sia, and Gothram nodded.

"Alright, please, escort them in."

"Yes sir!"

The captain turned around with parade ground precision, and left the room. Her superior watched her go, before sighing and continuing to eat his porridge.

His joke at their quarters had been mostly just that, a joke. Yes, their quarters were hardly luxurious, they were repurposed barracks, but they were the same as all the city's defenders had to make do with.

They hadn't exactly gotten the best when they'd arrived. They'd been the last to arrive for one, but first and foremost because not too long ago they'd been fighting on the other side, trying to take Rebirth for the Republic.

But now the Republic was being invaded by its own army, the Kingdom was in open civil war, and his decision to avoid suicide by turning against those who had freed him and his men from their jail, saving the life of the baroness' wife in the process, had bore unexpected fruit.

He'd been freed, and him and his company sent as reinforcement for Darthar, banned to return to Rebirth. Technically, that banishment was limited in time, but he was under no illusion that going back would be a poor idea, for their prosperity and health.

So their welcome had been frosty, to say the least. But now, after fighting on the walls every bit as fiercely as those defending their homes and loved ones, they were treated like comrades. 'Mercenary lane' as some called it now had a tinge of respect, and they had received a generous contract to help reinforce the city guard, while it got back onto its feet.

There was a knock on the door, and he put aside his porridge. That was his second in command's way of announcing the guest, and he cleared his throat.

"Come in." He said, and immediately sprang to his feet as a woman stepped through the now open door.

A woman with white hair, and piercing crimson eyes.

He'd only seen her a handful of times, but he would recognize her anywhere.

CQ, Crystal's dungeon boss...and choosen representative.

"Greetings, commander." Said the boss, and he knew instantly it was being possessed by the core.

"Hail, lady Crystal. What brings you here, so far from the halls of power?"

"Many things. But first and foremost, paying back a debt." The dungeon core gestured at the vacant chairs beside the commander's table. "May I?"

"Of course." She gripped the back of one chair, dragging it back, and he blinked as he saw her hand dissolve in static. "What?"

"Oh, I see you have not been warned. My daughter desserves her autonomy, and not be reduced to my mere messengers. I have made golems I control, covered in illusions to communicate."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I see. If that is the case, you may wish to give yourself a distinctive sign, so that confusion is avoided."

Crystal paused.

"That is...a valuable suggestion, commander. Thank you." She blinked, and suddenly her eyes were bright pink. "Will this suffice?"

The commander had to stop himself from gasping. Illusion magic his arse. That had to be an actual hologram. One made to shift, a modified version of the warmagic used to cloak entire war machines and formations. Nothing else could have been updated on the fly like that.

"Yes, it will."

"Most excellent." The dungeon core looked at him, and he had to hold back a shiver. She was less than two years old, but there was something...ancient behind her eyes. It was the only way he could describe it. "Then I suppose we should get down to the reasons for my presence here."

"Please do. I do not believe I was aware of a debt between us. Let alone one you owe me or my men."

"Oh but I do. Your men were on the walls, the day of the breach, correct?"

"We were." He shrugged. "We were backups to the knights."

"Do not play coy. I have visited knight-captain Vance. He has told me that the idea to rappel down into the breach came from you, and your men gave his covering fire, exposing themselves to enemy retaliation both arcane and mundane to allow his to come to my rescue."

"I did." He smiled. "You have done your homework."

"I have." The dungeon core gazed at him, and his feeling of unease only increased. "Tell me, commander. Do you know how much of a difference it did?"

"I genuinely do not know."

"In the grand scheme of things, it probably would not have changed the fate of the city. I would have held long enough alone for the calvary charge to start the rout, and my other ship could have begun bombarding the breach even had I fallen. But my daughter? My daughter almost certainly wouldn't have survived this."

"She would have returned."

"Does resurrection make the death of one's child any more painless?"

The commander winced.

"No. I suppose not."

"I fought with this very golem on top of her unconscious body. This chassis still bears the scars from where soldiers of Sunrise struck it, only to be pushed back by the knights you, and no one else, allowed to descend to my aid."

"So you feel like you owe me."

"No, I know I do." She leaned forward. "Which is why I have come to pay back that debt."

"Could I waive it?"

"You could. You no doubt think a debt for someone like I is perilous."

"The sands of the desert outside this city are littered with the bodies of those who have stood against you. A favor of you is an extremely dangerous weapon to wield."

"I see you can sparr with words as well as your sword. Good." The dungeon core smiled. "I knew you would not like having an unfulfilled debt with me. It would attract...attention. And not the good kind. So instead, allow me to pay it back immediately. In gifts."

"What kind?"

"Weapons. What else?" The dungeon core got to her feet. "Follow me, commander."

He nodded, and quickly found himself out into the courtyard, where his mercenaries were trying very hard not to stare while they trained.

It was a short walk to the larger assembly fields, where the city's garrison gathered for the morning roll call and any speech their officers wished made.

And he came to a dead halt to see what was on it.

His men had been allowed to resupply before leaving Rebirth. Which meant gathering every musket they could beg, borrow or steal, alongside whatever other supplies they could get their hands on. Some of the fireball launchers that had been so crucial in holding the walls had been brought here by his company.

Now before him stood an entire arsenal of weapons. Racks upon racks of machineguns, bolt action rifles and revolvers, with glittering piles of ammunition crates, some carried by towering spider tanks with gigantic pincers, stacking them with inhuman precision.

And above all of them, the menacing shadows of artillery guns, howitzers and field guns alike.

"Fuck me." He whispered, only to be answered by the dungeon core's laugh.

"My girlfriend would take exception with that, commander." She turned towards him as his mind reeled. The dungeon core had a girlfriend? What? "Now, I believe this would serve as a good token of my appreciation and paying off of this debt, yes?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "Yes it would."

"Good." She patted one of the racks, her hand glitching through the metal. "Hopefully these will serve you well in the future. All of the weapons come with detailed manuals, and my golems will drill your troops into their use."

"You can train someone with golems?"

"Of course! Drills are nothing but the same movements repeated to perfection. Who better than a golem to do it?"

"You make...an excellent point. I had never thought of it that way."

"Well, I had." She tapped the rack with her golem's nuckles. "Enjoy, commander."

Gothram nodded, as the dungeon core left, leaving him before the pile of weapons, dumbstruck.

He could see the shocked soldiers and officers, first slowly trickling onto the field, then arriving in a veritable torrent.

Then the commander of the city guard, Steve Orland, forced himself through the crowd, and made a beeline for him.

Gothram inhaled, and it finally dawned on him, that with a simple gesture and 'gift', the dungeon core had made his little mercenary company into one of the most modern and dangerous private military unit on the entire continent.

And that he had absolutely no idea what to do with it.