Chapter 50
Blind Leading the Blind
Commander’s Blade [Legendary]
Effects:
* -- You are not allowed to attack directly. Instead, every instance of attack will buff a random ally within a 5-mile radius, increasing their stats by 0,5% permanently for the duration of the battle. The rate of this effect is modified by Cooldown Reduction rather than Attack Speed.
* -- all of your buffing abilities have a 10% chance to be duplicated on the nearest ally. If that ally already has a buff, double the buff’s effects for the duration.
* -- all of your commands will be relayed directly into your soldiers' minds without any delay. However, if the command is complex, their response to it might not be accurate.
* -- every 60 seconds (cannot be changed), Ascend a random ally or one of your choice. All their stats will be permanently increased by 30%, and, if their Calling allows it, they will gain its Advanced Variant. If they do not possess a Calling, they will be given one of the Common ones. The same target cannot be Ascended twice.
* -- all soldiers under your command receive 10% of your stats. This includes Health, Damage, Attack and Movement Speed, Health Regeneration, Cooldown Reduction, Physical and Magical Defense, and Luck.
* -- every Buff & Support ability will have its rarity increased by at least 1. Higher chance of being offered rarer abilities.
* -- most Buff & Support abilities can be picked up multiple times & have their abilities overlap independently.
Damage: 0
Attack Speed: 1 attack every 2,4 seconds
Description: During the War of Divine Independence, the Holy Blade was shattered into seven shards. Despite losing its Divinity, the precious metal was re-used to graft precisely seven swords, one of which is Commander's Blade. Always given to exceptionally intelligent Generals who have just been afforded the position, the blade's subdued nature allowed it to remain relatively unknown compared to its six other siblings which are all world-renowned swords, even if few could match the Commander's Blade value.
There wasn’t much to it, Asher figured; it truly was a weapon made for a statue to become a yawning nothing in the rear, observing the battle without fighting in it. In fact, he couldn’t even fight as he couldn’t attack. But it wasn’t all bad--if he, instead, did get some weapon that just empowered him, he likely wouldn’t have been able to even dream of completing the new clear condition. In more ways than one, if there ever was a chance of him beating the Stage, this weapon was the herald of it.
The sword itself was rather lithe and feathery, closer to a rapier than a proper longsword. Its guard was entirely ornamental, made out of pure gold and silver, while the handle was rough and unwieldy, entirely contrasting the Dawn Ripper’s. But as he wasn’t meant to wield it, it didn’t matter.
He inspected it only for a moment before resuming the battle.
Effects were just like the sword they came from--subdued, almost invisible, just thin threads. Even the ‘Ascend’ option was so innocuous that, if he wasn’t directly staring at the person affected, he would have never known anything had actually changed.
Though he empowered his entire army comprised of over 3 million soldiers by 10% of his own stats, not much actually changed--perhaps they lasted a couple of strikes longer, but his stats were simply too pathetic to change anything. Furthermore, he only got XP from the people affected by the Humming Song, which limited how quickly he could Level up.
Asher abruptly tossed himself to the left, just barely dodging a golden bolt of lightning that flashed past him. Rolling a couple of times on the ground, he’d just barely gotten up when an overhead shower of arrows began to fall. However, before he could panic, he felt a pair of arms press him down on his shoulder into a kneeling position whereupon the world darkened.
Metallic sounds of clanging armor echoed out as a group of what looked to be seven or eight figures surrounded him and raised their shields. A moment later, clanking sounds of arrows rattling against the shields and being stopped overwhelmed the darkness, and light surged as the figures parted, a pair of arms lifting him up.
“Head eastward, Commander,” a deep voice bellowed behind a full-face helmet. “We shall escort you!”
He hardly had the time to respond before being shoved and forcibly moved, all while a barrage of spells and arrows flew toward him. It felt as though he suddenly had a beam of light overhead alerting everyone on the battlefield to his position, or had picked up a grandstanding AoE Taunt with a range exceeding a mile.
Though the soldiers did well to block most of the attacks, especially after having been empowered by him, a few still managed to pierce through and hit him. Fortunately, whether it was because of it just being the ‘baseline’ or whether it was because of distance, none of the attacks did more than 5 damage and, because of the ring’s bonus to Health Regeneration, he’d restore all lost Health rather quickly.
A few minutes later, he’d finally made it ‘eastward’--it was a fortified position with a semi-collapsed wall rounding a temple-like building shrouded in a strange, energy shield. The soldiers that escorted him quickly dispersed as he entered the shield, where he was told to go up the limestone steps and past the gorgeous pillars, into the building.
The entrance was without doors, arched and well over twenty feet tall, guiding him into a grand hall that was harrowingly empty. There was only a long, stone-made rectangular table at the center, a domed clearing in the ceiling that seemed to provide the source of light, and a wide canvas behind the table seemingly depicting the surrounding areas.
There were three people currently engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t quite hear--two men and a woman. All three were decked out in glittering sets of armor, currently unhemled, with their weapons hanging either from the belts or on their backs.
All three turned their heads suddenly and faced him, becoming silent, as he approached. As he stopped by the table's edge, the three straightened up and saluted him of all things, though it was by slamming their left hand against the right side breastplate. Only one's expression, however, didn't show at least a trace of discontent--it was one of the two men and the oldest one it seemed, with his appearance putting him deep into the fifties if not early sixties.
Looking down at the table, it was a more condensed version of the map on the canvas with figurines likely depicting groups of soldiers scattered about erratically.
Asher was no stranger to operational maps--though none of the ones he’d ever used were on this scale. Even so, he could pick out the details--the bevels indicating topology, the crevices, the smudged breakpoints where they clearly didn’t have enough knowledge to place out the details... it was familiar, yet strange.
Stolen story; please report.
“Will you bother introducing yourself?” the woman yanked him back to reality in a rather harsh tone.
“I’m your new Commander,” he said. It seemed that, even if the soldiers would be wholly loyal to him, it didn’t mean they’d like him. It made sense, though; he’d be shocked if they did, considering he was a human. “Asher.”
“The bitter old crone here is Myra,” the elderly gentleman chuckled, rifling through his bushy beard. “Do forgive her manners, as well as ours. We have been entrenched here for months now, and have seen many of our friends fall.”
“That’s alright,” Asher shrugged it off. “We’re here for the same thing, aren’t we? To win. How we get there, and what kind of abuses you hurl towards me, is irrelevant.”
"..." The three fell silent for a moment, seemingly inspecting him further, but he ignored their gazes and focused on the map. The victory portion of the battle wouldn't be achieved by him simply buffing the soldiers--that would be too easy, and there was no way he’d be granted that. Besides, if that were the case, he would have never been dragged here and forced to interact with what were likely higher-ranked soldiers of the army. He’d just be wandering the battlefield and shoving ‘drugs’ into the soldiers until they overwhelmed the opposition.
No, he’d have to lead the army--meaningfully. Devise strategies and execute them. Coordinate assaults and retreats and fortify positions, doing all of that at a breakneck speed. It all sounded fancy, but the core of it all was that he’d have to shoulder the lives of three million people and likely decimate half those numbers of the opposing soldiers in order to break their morale.
"The stalemate persists on all fronts," the woman spoke suddenly, drawing his attention back away from the map. "The line stretches for sixteen miles, from the Perefirous River to the Lombar Canyon. Our main infantry is slightly worse equipped than theirs, but we make up for it in numbers. We have counted on our Magi superiority to break through, but they have hired the bastards from Millenion to help them so that also resulted in a stalemate. Right now, we are devising a potential retreat strategy; their reinforcements will arrive at least twelve hours before ours do, and if we don't execute our retreat properly, we might be completely swallowed."
“...” Asher didn’t reply immediately; from everything he’d observed so far, he’d likely have to stay days if not entire weeks in this Stage. Breaking through won't be easy, but he already had a few ideas. First, however, he'd have to figure out just how advanced military training in this world was, especially in regard to the development of military strategies. He was far from educated in the department, but if their development was far behind enough of his knowledge, even if he was fumblingly awkward about it, it might still yield some advantages.
“We can hold the hillside position for, at most, a week with our current numbers. We’ll then have to retreat to the next checkpoint.”
"No, we can't lose the hill," Asher said. He'd already mapped out the topography of the region--the hill was the only high point for nearly twenty-five miles, and everything else was either rugged plains or grassland. Losing an advantageous position was akin to losing a good chunk of their actual force, if not worse. "If we lose the hill, we'll lose the battle."
"... we know," the man who hadn't spoken yet said. He seemed to be in his forties, with patches of white already invading his fading, black hair. A stern and stoic expression fit perfectly with the similar demeanor, and the voice was almost hand-crafted for the person. "But even a desperate hold won't be possible."
"Have you tried creating a bulge?" Asher asked, ignoring the confused expressions and walking over until the figurines were within reach. They were hand-carved out of wood, lacking quite a lot in detail, but having just enough to discern what 'kind' of force they represented. Asher focused exclusively on the ones depicting the infantry. "Break open a rank the length of two hundred yards or so," he pulled back the figurines. "And let them in. Then, when enough of them cross the section, we close off the path behind them by aggressively reinforcing the line while, at the same time, encircling the ones that had come inside. The soldiers won't have to engage in a battle of death and can simply wear down the encircled ones over time." It wasn't a genius strategy--far from it. He'd simply ripped it off from the history books he'd read. He wasn't even certain how feasible it was as it necessitated some rather quick execution of strategy that just might not be possible on this scale.
“... interesting,” the elderly man mumbled after a few moments of silence. “We could cull their numbers, if ever so slightly, without losing much.”
“It’s too risky,” the woman said. “Letting enemy soldiers through our frontline? It’s moronic.”
“There are risks,” the other man said, as though having waited for his turn. “If we can’t close the frontline quickly enough or if we let through too many soldiers and it becomes hard to encircle them... our entire vanguard could collapse.”
“Precisely--”
"--but if we execute it perfectly," Asher looked on oddly at the man as he seemed to have paused his 'speech' for the specific purpose of instigating the woman to say something and for him to then interrupt her. And, judging from her gnashing teeth, she likely realized it, too. "It could definitely be a good way to lower their numbers. It would only be a couple of times, however, as they'd realize what we are doing."
“That’s a positive in its own way,” Asher said. “If they start perceiving any faults in the line as potential traps, they won’t be nearly as aggressive pursuing them.”
“Won’t they try to do the same to us, then?” the woman asked.
"I sure hope they do," Asher said. "You were right--it's a moronic idea that can only work because they won't expect it. Opening up a frontline is sort of like taking out a wall in order to get materials from one end to another more quickly. It can speed things up for a bit, but if the hole goes on unsupported for long enough, it will collapse the entire thing.
“The key to this is quickly cauterizing the frontline,” he added, ‘playing’ with the figurines to illustrate the point. “It means ravaging assaults from both flanks where you don’t stop. It means diverting a lot of rear support to enable this. One screw-up and all you've done is create a hole that you will never be patched up. The main reason why I even want to attempt this is to tempt them into doing the same. I am somewhat confident in being able to execute it twice, at most, as even the stupidest among them will wise up to it. They'll slow down their advance rather than blindly rushing into the opened-up position, which means that the puncturing group will be far more reinforced and more difficult to cut off at the rear. When they do it to us, though... it will be impossible to close the line. I'll make sure of it."
“Do you wish to execute the strategy immediately?” the elderly man asked and Asher shook his head.
“No, not yet. I need a few more Levels, at the very least. Plus, I need to observe their army a bit longer and figure out which point of the long line to use to execute it. As there’s only so much I can see on my own, can I ask you three to spread out across as many miles as you can and observe in my stead?”
“Of course,” the older man chuckled yet again. “What should we be on the lookout for, specifically?”
"How quickly does the fallen soldier get replaced, the frequency of deaths, the speed of realignment, the roughness of the terrain, and potential blind spots--meaning that there's a natural formation that might block off the view of what will happen to the soldiers we encircle. And, naturally, any other oddities you pick up on."
“Humph, I still think it’s moronic,” the woman said, putting on her bejeweled helmet. “But, very well. You are a Commander. Should it fail, it will be your head first to roll.”
Asher merely smiled as she sauntered out, soon followed by the younger of two men who merely nodded toward Asher. That only left him and the oldest one sitting in silence for a little while before the old man broke it, putting on the rugged and worn-down helmet.
“Name’s General Iccor,” he said. “It is a clever and bold strategy, Commander. But not to speak ill of my boys, it will be difficult to arrange it into perfect execution which, from the sounds of it, is precisely what we will need. Perchance, while we scout, consider less risky alternatives.”
"Less risky alternatives are luxuries afforded to stronger forces, General Iccor," Asher said. "If you think we can win by just sitting back and doing nothing, trust me, there won't be a happier man on the battlefield than me to do precisely that."
“...” the man said nothing, standing still for a moment before nodding his head and walking out. Asher glanced back at the two maps one last time before, too, leaving. Whether it would work or not... he didn’t know. He couldn’t know. He had far more confidence in legitimately fighting than he did in coming up with a clever move to outwit the opposing Commander. Alas, he had to go for something, and all he had were some rudimentary tactics that he’d read about in books, especially on this large of a scale. It was all a very uncanny case of a blind leading the blind, hoping that the other side was somehow blinder still.