Chapter 310

Ytakan Scrublands, Archduchy of Rebirth

Darthar-Asaria trade route

Alexandra didn't even blink as the wall of flesh opened like a wound, letting her into what looked like the inside of a ribcage, converted into an office. An office with a wooden desk, and a pair of chairs.

The Earth-born had to stop herself from laughing. There was even a quill, an inkpot, and a solitary roll of parchments on the table. It might as well be labelled 'office, stereotype one'. Nobody had used this place, and after they were done today no one ever would, most likely.

Whatever effect the other dungeon core had been trying to achieve was ruined by the fact that she had to move through the entrails of a monster to get here.

Speaking of...

"Greetings, Crystal of the Dungeon Factory." Softly said the...thing behind the desk. It looked like someone had taken a stick-bug and dipped it in gold and bronze. Its face, or what counted for it, was obscured by a porcelain mask with male features. Though Alexandra could hear the chitter of mandibles behind it.

The dungeon avatar, for that was what it had to be, got up and extended a chitinous hand, which Alexandra grasped.

"Greetings. I would salute your name and titles as well, but I fear we have not been introduced."

"How foolish of me." Alexandra's mental alarms went off. The UDC's remnants may be made of self absorbed, traitorous bastards, but something told her this one was something else altogether.

The dungeon core...he reminded her of Ciel, once Arcadia had peeled back the layers of humanity and anger that wrapped her fellow AI. Infinite, cold patience behind the eyes of an immortal machine. Something ageless that simply waited.

"I am Glarvistar of the Emerald Glade." Continued the avatar, before bowing slightly, which Alexandra returned.

"Greetings then, Glarvistar of the Emerald Glade. You seem to have brought quite the party alongside you."

"Yes. Though you have seen us coming for a bit. Tell me, was it chance?"

"Does chance actually exist?"

"It does not." Said the voice behind the porcelain mask.

Alexandra hid a smile.

"It is the appellation of fools who cannot control their own path." Said Alexandra.

"Then we are agreed." The avatar shifted. "Today, we will cross blades."

"And you are not here to tell me that it can be avoided through diplomacy?"

"The others have charged me to speak for them. But we both know you would not accept their terms nor them yours."

Cold, calculating and right on the money. This could get ugly.

"Perhaps. But still, we must go through this dance, mustn't we?"

"Perhaps." He said, echoing her words. "Perhaps not." He leaned forward slightly, and Alexandra realized with a start that he had some kind of folded wings on the back. "But battle is inevitable nonetheless. What good are the words here?"

"Words are tools. They can influence the mind. Influence the very essence of magic."

"You speak of will, not voice."

"Is there a difference?"

The avatar paused.

"There isn't. Very well, speak."

"Go back to where you came. Tell the UDC's remnants that if they wish to remain isolated, that is their choice. We will not interfere with their solitude. But we will defend ourselves. And if need be, we will crush you."

"And murder us?"

"Your 'allies' are already doing this. What do you need us for?"

The avatar flinched.

"I had argued against that."

"Just like you no doubt argued against speeding up?"

She was openly fishing, and his silence was all the response she needed. She hid a smile.

He wasn't in control. He wished he was, and he wasn't. That was to her advantage. Whoever controlled the fleet right now wasn't as sound and calculated as he was.

"My fellows' offer is thus." He finally said. "Satisfy yourself with the territories you have. You control the greatest trade route on the continent. Go north, to Ulrys. Take it, extend your 'archduchy' to the Inner Sea, and you will also hold the gates to Sarth. Sunrise will honor your power, and leave you be."

"No they won't. We're a symbol of the duchess' and would be queen incompetence and failures. She has to crush us."

"Not if she is incapable of it."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Then we only trade a diminished foe now for a greater one later."

The avatar dipped its head, and Alexandra smiled, before almost cringing as the porcelain mask did likewise.

Okay, what the actual fuck?

"You would. Then we are at an impasse. Because my fellows' offer is much more generous than that of the council."

"Your fellows being?"

"The other cores in the fleet. They fret and flicker. They fear the consequences of this battle. Victory or defeat, this will ring throughout time."

Alexandra tilted her head. Interesting. So those other cores were the ones in control, since they had 'chosen' him as their emissaries.

"And you? Do you fear the consequences?"

"I welcome them."

The smile became almost malicious, and Alexandra shuddered mentally. He was being sincere, but...

He wasn't being arrogant. Not towards her. Why...

He expected that they were going to lose. He was using her army as a hammer to purify the red hot iron that was the new UDC. Get rid of those pulling his strings.

And like Ciel...he was using this entire force as a sacrificial lamb to gauge out her tactics and strategy for himself. Just like Ciel had done to the European Federation, to her, with the Second Battle of Alpha Centauri, to pave the way for the Third. Sweet merciful Gods that was cold.

"I see. Then I believe we should go on to a clash of arms?"

"We shall." He looked at her. "My commanders would have wished your golem trashed, in the foolish hope that it would be similar to our avatars and give us an advantage."

"And you spurn the dishonor?"

"What is honor, but reciprocity?"

She smiled, and the porcelain mask returned it.

He was keeping the door open. Open for them to talk, to negotiate again, which the actions his superiors demanded would have otherwise permanently closed.

"A point well taken."

"Then be on your way. And good hunting."

Alexandra turned, and whirled around, walking towards the wound-door. She paused as she reached the threshold.

"You know, I am tempted to just make myself lose this." She said over her shoulder.

"Will you?"

"No."

"Then it shall be a glorious day for all of us with our eyes open."

He did not mean it as the nobles would have understood it.

"I suppose it will be."

She left. Escorted through the strange biological ship by monsters of all shapes and sizes, and back onto her own vessel.

It seemed she wasn't the only one with plans here. Interesting. Very interesting. Maybe there would be a solution other than annihilation in this war.

Maybe.

*****

"So it begins."

Joachim nodded softly, trying to avoid shuddering as the machine spoke.

The Relic Guard's promised reinforcements had arrived. Automated weaponry indeed.

No one had thought to warn him that the things were intelligent. At least some of them.

The others...he honestly couldn't say. They reminded him of dungeon monsters, in a way. Some capable of speech, but not truly sapient. They could talk, but start diving a bit into the conversation, and cracks began appearing. The same if one gave them orders that required creativity to accomplish.

"It does." The Order Commander poured himself a glass of a fine Asarian wine his men had found stars knows where in the capital teetering on the edge of collapse, only granted reprieve by the duchess running off with most of the army to intercept the dungeon core. The air around was shocked, with a beginning of euphoria. If Lesly won this, and crushed Sunrise...the people here would pave her path with their bodies, prostrated in gratitude.

He hesitated, and poured a second glass, offering it to the automata, who accepted it with a smile. She looked as if someone had made a person out of metal, an 'android'.

Jallira had also mentionnd that the machine should be able to kill her, despite it being a shadow of what it once was. Kill her, a fallen Seraphim.

It made one wonder.

The robot downed the drink in a single gulp, before licking its -her?- lips.

"Curious." She said. "This vintage is anomalous. It would have been rejected by the Food and Drink Safety Board."

Joachim shook his head. It just kept saying something like that, as if it was stuck in its own time. Which...it might be.

"So it would." He simply answered. This fight...Lesly should win it, but he couldn't help but fret. What was she doing with holding the human units back like that? The goal here was to get as much blood as possible on the isolationists' hands, fracturing their forces before they could bring their full might to bear on her.

Trust her, he just had to trust her.

And pray. Though pray to what, he wouldn't be capable of saying.

When one had disavowed their Gods as murderous frauds, what was left?

*****

Alexandra watched as the enemy advanced, through the sensors of her airships, the only things that had a visual.

She had let them do their landing uncontested, clearly to the opposite side's dismay. Did these fools seriously expect her to not have noticed they had chosen a spot with great care, one that would keep them out of range of her howitzers, but within the one of her ballistic missiles?

She had no intention of wasting her ammunition. No, she'd wait until their point defence was otherwise occupied to unleash hell. They clearly hadn't realized that she had only unleashed them onto the duke because she'd had no choice, pressured by time in both instances.

Still, their composition...among what she had expected, by and large, with one exception.

First, a solid central body of Jakarls anchoring the whole army, creatures that looked like centaurs crossed with centipedes, their arms and legs replaced with deadly blades. All the same however, they were slow, ponderous. Heavy infantry brawlers, not cavalry. They were supported by Tishaks, forming a screen before them and on their flanks. Skirmishers, that seemed like blue demonic imps, capable of throwing simple attack spells. Firebolts weren't all that dangerous, until you sent a thousand of them someone's way.

Behind them stood the behemoths that were Naisens, looking like gigantic yetis. Three of them, they weren't actually combat beasts, just towering, biological shield generators. Their response to her artillery...and the reason why the ships above were drawn in a tight defensive formation above them.

They knew of her battle with the duke. They were afraid of her null missiles. If the files were right and the Naisens projected shields, they would only be down for a few moments, but that would be enough for her artillery to crush the creatures.

Good. Let them worry about the wrong thing.

Had she not possessed the appropriate sensors, she wouldn't have seen what was hidden behind, the pathetic handful of Skiras, the UDC's self sustaining artillery. Hellish spiders that grew acid mortars on their backs. Built more for the horror factor against human troops, Alexandra genuinely wasn't sure how effective they would be on her golems. They would, however, be hell on her weapons.

And lastly, the thing she hadn't expected...ranks upon ranks of centaurs. Not dungeon monsters, actual centaur auxiliaries, surrounded in heavy armors. She'd dubbed them Cataphracts.

They were deployed on the wings, clearly intending to strike her flanks, drive in the middle of her formation and try to overrun her artillery. She had defences in place, but the centaurs...they certainly weren't newborn monsters like the others, they would have plenty of essence to back them up, and experience besides.

Her greatest advantage right now however, were the human troops behind hers. She could see the reserves of the main enemy force, deployed to counter a charge or attempted encirclement by Manson and Philia.

The enemy army shuddered as it came to a stop, just inside of her howitzer range.

And once again her weapons remained silent. They weren't the ones she was interested in. And she'd rather have them fully caught into her range before she engaged.

After all, their formation had a critical flaw. One that clearly showed those on the other side, with the notable exception of Glarvistar, had no experience in warfare, chosen for their ideological purity. Which made sense, otherwise they would not have condoned this attack, let alone commanded it.

The fact that they had attempted to offer better terms than their superiors spoke volumes to how said 'purity' was a double edged sword in this particular case.

The enemy army shuddered once again, and resumed marching forward. Alexandra smiled, and brought up her hand on Subtlety's bridge, waiting to bring it back down. She could almost feel Emilia rolling her eyes back home at the theatrical gesture.

But this was theater. She could feel on her sensors the countless eyes in the sky. There had been few, if any, in her previous battles, but now...now everyone was watching.

The UDC's implosion had suddenly focused the attention of the whole world on her. And she intended to give them a good show.

She prepared to bring her arm down...then trumpets sounded.

And the humans behind her army began marching forward.