Cleaning up the bloody battlefield and teleporting everyone back is quickly taken care of, so I go back to Taanyth's hut to learn more about those other factions. My sudden apparition makes him jump in his seat, but he seems to be less frightened than last time.
It looks like he's getting used to it.
"You seem knowledgeable about the factions in the area, so can you tell me more about them?" I show him a series of pictures of the more intact remains. He cups his chin after his initial astonishment caused by seeing the phone.
"They call themselves the Green Ones. They are a warmongering tribe of savages who always wanted to take the Tunnels and the Diving Station from us while enslaving the survivors. It isn't the first time they've done this, and weaker factions were wiped out by their abuse and reckless behavior. However, the Invaders kept them in check, and they haven't come out of their stinking hole-" Taanyth takes a deep breath and clenches his fists.
It looks like hatred for the aptly named Green Ones runs deep within the Ilffs. This situation makes me reconsider a problem that I glanced over, the fact that all those tiny factions must hate each other.
It is troubling. I hope that there aren't too many factions that hate each other, or I might be forced to wipe out the smallest ones to secure the support of the larger ones.
Shard politics are so complicated that they make my head buzz. The situation on Earth is a lot easier: Those who support the Enforcers, and the Enforcers themselves, are enemies and must be wiped out.
Speaking of Enforcers, I hope the two brothers will come to their senses and that they'll realize that this system cannot go on. In a perfect world, they would have formed a rebel faction by now. But I haven't heard any news so they must have decided to stick with their Family.
Maybe the Wolfheart will gracefully surrender when it's their time to be facing the might of the Order.
Who am I kidding, that old hag leading them is an incompetent woman clinging to notions that are from a bygone era. It makes my heart ache to think that I maybe will have to kill them, but I will not hesitate if it comes to it. As much as it pains me, my mission is more important than my friends.
Humanity will no longer stay subservient, and we will not be contained. This is the era of weapons of mass destruction and mechanized warfare, so the sword-wielding Enforcers are going to go through a rude awakening once all my magically-enhanced modern weaponry is built.
So you can throw fireballs around? How frightening, I'm trembling with fear in my fortress hidden in another dimension while a barrage of cluster bombs are teleported on your position.
"ThIs iS gOiNg tO bE fUn..." I mutter before stopping mid-sentence. I'm lucky that my helmet muffled my delusional ramblings, or else Taanyth would be even more frightened than he already is.
Letting this voice leak out is something that I shouldn't do, but it's sometimes stronger than me and spills out when I am having murderous thoughts.
Speaking of murderous thoughts, it feels like I have them a lot more lately. Is it because of the situation, or for some other sinister reason?
Of course, it's the former. There's absolutely nothing wrong with me.
I focus back on Taanyth, who has just calmed down. "Sorry for losing my composure, we lost some good people because of those green bastards," he says.
"Do not worry; the Order will protect anyone who is under my rule." I say to reassure the old man, "By the way, you mentioned that they enslaved people, so do you have any idea where those Green Ones are hiding?"
If the Green Ones are enslaving people, then there might be some slaves who are from a faction that 's still around. Saving them would give me a strong position for future negotiations. Furthermore, the enslaved people who have lost everything because of the Green Ones must be blinded by hatred.
I bet they'll fit perfectly into my Legion. Anything is possible with a bit of propaganda, and if I make a beautiful entrance, then the Prometheus persona should be able to convince them on the spot.
He shakes his head, "I'm afraid not, they are stronger than us, and their numbers are greater than ours. Attacking has never been something that we could do before-"
"Then this will change. The Green Ones will face divine retribution!" I shout with a short burst of aura for good measure.
I'm so glad that nobody has called me out on my bullshit. These robes are very useful: They make all negotiations easier, and they look quite cool.
"Thank you, great Prometheus..." Taanyth says with teary eyes.
Now I feel kind of sad for tricking them into what might be a lifetime of war.
But the Ilffs are getting something out of this deal. I'll grant them a planet of their own once Earth is freed. Of course, they'll still be under my rule, but they should be able to live good, peaceful lives somewhere near the solar system.
Being the ruler of an interplanetary empire does sound good, but there are quite a few things I need to do before even thinking about it. First of all, I need to establish my main base in this Shard and get rid of the Enforcers around me. Once this is done, then I'll have a stable power base, and the other Enforcers should know that provoking me isn't a good idea. This will then allow me to spread certain magical artifacts and potions to the masses. The resulting innovations will significantly improve the standards of living. As a bonus, it will help me fund my war effort.
I have to proceed carefully, or the Enforcers might band together as a massive coalition and utterly crush us. As powerful as we will be in the future, certain projects of mine will require substantial research and long construction time. So the Enforcers getting their shit together is absolutely the worst case scenario.
However, it seems unlikely that this will happen on a scale large enough to threaten the Order and I. This Shard is an excellent example of the situation on Earth: There are lots of factions that have been here for a long time, and this long history means that they went to war with their neighbors at some point.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
As a result, tensions exist between the Families, and this should prevent them from joining forces in any meaningful capacity. Just imagining what might happen if some Enforcers Families indeed joined together as a single entity instead of a loose alliance makes me shiver.
But it's something that can't possibly happen. They are too entrenched in their ways of doing things.
Now let's focus back on the current situation. The Diver that Taanyth dispatched should have arrived at the camp by now, so I should go back. Furthermore, the Legionaries should have already reorganized the field, so I don't have anything else to do for now.
...Alex's PoV...
I regret everything I have ever done that led me to this moment.
My life was normal back then. I was just a regular college student doing normal student things. But this life is now a distant memory. My daily routine now consists of waking up impossibly early, and then I'm either patrolling while decked out in magical gear or going through the hellish training of the Legion.
This training made me more muscular, but I would gladly give up my muscles if it meant that I would be free from this chore. The Legionaries are insane, they go through the horrifying training program like it's the most natural thing in the world, and while reciting passages of the Codex as loudly as possible.
Meanwhile, I can barely stay conscious after half a day of this hellish routine. By comparison, patrolling is a lot better in that regards, the gear isn't too heavy, so it's easy to move. The gazillion enchantments on them also make sure that I'm never too hot or too cold, so that's a plus.
However, something that I can't get used to is the fanaticism. I guess it's mandatory since the Order is an actual cult, but it is still off-putting. They continuously praise Prometheus for doing anything, and I bet that if the guy took a shit, then it would be enshrined by the end of the hour.
I'm still skeptical about this whole Prometheus thing, even if I'm slowly getting used to it. Sarah and Cynthia are almost indiscernible from a regular cultist at this point, and they are always eagerly discussing their day while sometimes slipping a quick praise to the almighty Prometheus in the conversation.
The divine status of this guy might not be real, but I can at least admit that he knows what he's doing. Our rifles alone are proof of that fact. These things are so strong that a single bullet is enough to kill most of the magical creatures on the planet as long as they penetrate.
I think we shouldn't be worried on that front. The fucking bullets leave a trail of plasma behind them each time we fire. Our shields are also a copy of what Prometheus is wearing, and they are extraordinarily resistant. A rumor going around the barracks even says that the protection would be able to endure a nuclear explosion, and I pray that nobody would be insane enough to ask the Fabricators for a small nuke.
Because I bet that these guys would give it to them without a second thought.
The Fabricators are scary, and my eyes bulge each time Cynthia talks about how they casually made something that could turn an entire ocean into ice if it exploded in the right spot.
And this was originally a failed prototype for a fucking box.
The list of projects that Prometheus assigned to the Fabricators is fucking insane, at this point I'm convinced that the guy would build a Death Star if he could.
I'm taken out of my thoughts by an order from our squad leader, and we move to the next position. The compound is currently protected by a somewhat reduced number of soldiers. The majority of the Legion was dispatched to somewhere far from here as a part of a grand campaign. I wasn't told anything more, and I don't want to know.
But I bet it's something utterly ridiculous, for all I know the Legion is off fighting aliens on a faraway planet.
Patrolling the area gives me a sense of normalcy. It's true that we are looking for teleporting groups of mercenaries who might be from another universe, but at least it's not a giant demon.
According to our orders, we need more patrols since the mercenaries attacking us are getting harder to detect. They might appear out of literally nothing, so we have to keep an eye out for anything unusual.
Being on high alert continually is tiring, and the patrolling squads would frequently be rotated to make sure that we are in top condition. But the Legion is thinly spread, and we can't afford to not have the squads on constant patrol. We were given energy bars, according to the ones in charge of our food supply these small fruit-flavored bars were a mix of caffeine and various stimulants engorged with mana.
We were assured that the bars didn't have any side effects, but I do have my doubts even as I am gulping one down. Quite frankly, being a bit addicted to whatever I'm eating is still miles better compared to being dead.
I'm still inexperienced, but something that was drilled into me is how dangerous our enemies are. Every mercenary we faced so far could crush our bodies with their raw strength, not to mention that the later ones could theoretically move so fast that our eyes would not be able to register their presence.
This knowledge doesn't fill me with confidence, but the outcome of our battles show that victory is possible despite the bad odds. Honestly, I don't know how Prometheus fought against Beelzebub with so much ease, even with the great equipment he was wearing at the time.
There must be something more to him. Maybe he has an ability similar to Sarah's? It could explain why he seems to be able to predict the movements of his enemies. Her unique power is still a mystery to the Order, at least according to Sarah.
"Halt!" our squad leader says before going prone, and we immediately mimic his action. This reaction can only mean one thing, that we detected unknown presences in the perimeter!
The squad leader pulls out a pair of what looks like binoculars and points them in a direction just over the hill. Those aren't standard binoculars; they can also act as a low-frequency mana signature detector. I didn't understand the full explanation, but from what I can recall the artifact's effect melds with the background mana, so it's undetectable by a large portion of the population. It has it's drawbacks, like a small range and it can only transmit the number and vague position of the signatures, but it's still better than nothing.
The middle-aged man pales, "fuck, I think there's at least a hundred of them..."
The atmosphere instantly gets heavier. Such a large amount of soldiers must mean that they belong to a large group, and larger mercenary groups usually have better training and better gear.
"I detect strong signatures in the bunch, and they are on a level where we would need more than one M249 to pin all of them down." He continues his grim report.
We are fucked if they detect us, the only machine gun in the squad is a powerhouse, but the gunner can only aim at one target at a time if he wants to be effective.
"We'll request air support, I just hope they'll make it here in time before we are detected," the squad leader says before pulling out a secure phone from his belt. He begins to inform the commanding officers of the situation so that the compound can prepare for a massive assault, and request air support.
A sudden pressure almost slams us into the ground, and I grit my teeth as the barrier around me groans.
"Shit, this isn't good." the leader says, "A great signature has appeared, I think you can feel it from the camp. If we have some new bombs to drop on them, then this would be the ideal time to test them. Otherwise, we need to ask for Prometheus' help."
Tremors course through my limbs as I process the final words of my squad leader. Requesting the help of Prometheus is the absolute last resort, this means that we would be vaporized if we tried anything against that strong entity.
Fucking hell, I don't want to die here...
"Men, engage the MH Shells! Gunner, set up your emplacement here!" the leader says before placing three Shells into the shotgun under the barrel of his rifle. We all copy him while the gunner deploys his weapon.
We inch closer to the top of the hill, ready to pull the trigger and unleash the world-ending stream of energy stored in the innocuous Shells. But what we see makes us all pause.
A woman with shoulder-length silky black hair with red tips flowing freely in the winds stands opposed to the group of heavily armed mercenaries. She's wearing what looks like a mix between a leather armor and a tactical vest, and it hugs her shapely body in a very distracting way. An old but strong looking man stands behind her with his hands behind his back, he's wearing a bizarre set of armor that looks like an armored trench coat.
"Who are you? Are you with John Thomson?" the woman asks with an energetic voice.
"This prey is ours! Go away!" One of the massive, tree-like creatures in the mercenary group shouts back. He's eying the duo with what I assume is wariness, so he must know that they are mighty.
The woman licks her lips, revealing a set of teeth that might be a little too pointy for an average person. "So you're after him?"
"Of course we are! Listen, I'm willing to split the bounty between our groups if you help us take down this guy. So what do you say?" the humanoid tree ask with a hint of fear.
Please say no, please say no!
The woman turns towards the old man, who is lighting a cigarette. "Can I take care of them?" she asks while clenching her fist, and the man takes a long puff before nodding.
"Just don't go overboard, or we might attract too much attention," he says, and the woman almost jumps in joy.
"Yes! Now let's get rid of the troublemakers!" she turns towards the mercenaries, and I grip my rifle with trembling hands.
My jaw drops when flaming dragon wings materialize behind the woman. The mercenaries also look shocked beyond measure, and only some of them have the presence of mind to scramble for cover.
But it's already too late for them, a stream of superheated plasma emerges from the raised palms of the woman and sweeps through the ranks of the mercenaries, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.
"What?! How dare you, I'll-"
The massive moving humanoid tree is silenced by a mana-enhanced punch that almost breaks him in half. He doesn't have time to recover before the woman surrounds him with blue flames, and the creature disappears from the surface of the planet in a split second.
At this point, the surviving mercenaries are all running for their lives and some attempt to teleport away. But the old man moves a single finger in the air. His power is nothing compared to the woman, but he's still deadly, and a needle of mana slightly disturbs their spells, thus allowing the woman to turn them into a smoldering crater.
It has barely been a minute, and the entire mercenary group has almost been wiped out.
How are we supposed to fight someone like this? I doubt air support would help against this woman. Our only hope is Prometheus...
My blood freeze when the woman's gaze meet my own.