Chapter 5

A black speck appeared against a field of white, growing at an alarming rate. Ludmila altered her trajectory, but it curved to follow.

“「Invulnerable Fortress」!”

The metre-wide boulder stopped against her ankle before dropping to the ice below. She frowned at the result before descending. Roughly seven hundred metres away, a Frost Giant Huntress looked up at her with a lopsided smile.

“I hate how I drift when using that Defensive Art in the air,” Ludmila said as she returned to the ground. “Fortress and Invulnerable Fortress were developed to be used on the ground – I lose all manoeuvrability up there.”

“It should only be a problem at shorter ranges,” Brynhild replied. “I think any Dragon would be grateful to have a Defensive Art at all in that situation.”

“You mean to say that they don’t?”

“I have felled over two dozen. Not once have I seen them use a Martial Art. The Frost Dragons here have no interest in the warrior’s path: raw strength, intimidation, and feral cunning are their way.”

“Not all Frost Dragons are like that, but you do have a point about lacking the foundation for Martial Arts.”

Since Martial Arts were derived from a warrior’s training, discipline and skill, developing one with savagery alone was impossible. The Martial Arts a warrior employed were in themselves an indicator by which other warriors measured one’s cumulative experience and martial prowess.

“…but what would they be like if they could?” Ludmila asked.

“They would be much more interesting to fight,” Brynhild said. “My husband would go storming off to challenge any such Dragon. After so many months of training, our warriors are itching to see how they measure against the world beyond.”

“Do you feel the same way?”

“Like you, I am a huntress. Worthy opponents are all well and good, but we do not have that same…itch.”

Together, they made their way across the icefields between the high peaks of the Azerlisia Mountains. The area around the hallowed valleys of Thingvellir had been transformed into a training ground for the Royal Army of the Sorcerous Kingdom. All around them, Death-series servitors, Frost Giants, and even a number of Lord Cocytus’ vassals practised day and night to hone their skills.

A roar echoed down the valley as two groups of Frost Giants clashed in a mock battle. Ludmila watched the distant figures as they struggled over the ice.

“I wish I could take that itch of theirs and throw it at this Dragon that I have to get rid of.”

“Aye, so would they. But the Lord of the Frozen Rivers has set the bounds for your contest. It will make for an interesting tale, to be sure.”

She wasn’t sure if ‘interesting’ was the proper word for it. The Second Legion of the Imperial Army would begin the process of integrating five squads of Death-series servitors – one for each city around The Blister – culminating in the removal of a certain Ancient Green Dragon who was exacting tribute from the region. Ludmila’s task was to help make everything work, but she still wasn’t sure how their objective could be accomplished in any sane way.

The Dragon could fly. The vast majority of the forces at the Empire’s disposal could not. With its superior mobility, an Ancient Dragon could pick and choose its targets on a whim, striking down the Death-series servitors two or three at a time. Both figuratively and literally, it was the difference between heaven and earth, yet she had been assigned the problem as if it were some sort of intriguing exercise.

Her concerns over the idea that they were gambling with the lives of millions of their client state’s citizens seemed to fall upon deaf ears, so all that was left was to forge ahead and find a way through. Lady Shalltear was correct that conflict was rarely as straightforward as people believed and Ludmila could only hope that Lord Cocytus and his general staff realised something that she or the Imperial Army eventually would as well.

Near the top of the glacier leading down to Feoh Berkana, they came across a pair of familiar faces observing two squads of skirmishing Frost Giants.

“So this is the true form of the Valkyrie’s shieldmaiden…” Sigurd looked down at her as he stroked his pale beard, “Up for a serious bout, now?”

Ludmila was in the armour bestowed upon her by His Majesty, which she usually only wore when training with much stronger opponents such as Frost Giants or the Death-series servitors of the Royal Army. Even when performing official martial duties such as her upcoming tasks with the Imperial Army, she felt that her ‘casual’ equipment was more than enough for nearly everything.

There was the notion that wearing her combat equipment would make her look more impressive in the eyes of the Imperial Army, but a large part of her worried over the various ‘impressions’ that would result and where they might lead.

“I wouldn’t take him up on his challenge,” Gunnar said from beside Sigurd. “He’ll keep asking for more rounds until he’s satisfied that every measure possible has been taken and you’ll end up late for your journey. The Grand Marshal’s vassals keep thrashing him and Sigurd’s become obsessed with improving himself so that he may finally match them.”

“Hmph, you talk as if I’m the only one. A world of worthy opponents awaits us. Gunnar speaks like this but he himself has hurled all of his efforts into preparing the Royal Army for war.”

“How have things been on that front?” Ludmila asked.

“Slow,” Gunnar admitted. “These Elder Liches acting as sergeants for each squad of Undead are intelligent enough, but intelligence alone does not make a Commander. It would be fine if it was only a matter of pitting strength for strength or applying basic tactics, but they have no Abilities, Skills or instincts that a master of war should have. I am not so foolish to believe that the world will be accommodating to these shortcomings.”

Ludmila had come to the same conclusion – as had Lord Cocytus and his general staff. Elder Liches were excellent at coordinating Undead forces and had a special appreciation for their use, but they were not true Commanders. There were also the issues that came with them permanently dying. Forging a true officer corps for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Royal Army, however, would be a long journey.

No one was even sure how Commanders should be trained. The other Commanders in the Sorcerous Kingdom had raised themselves independently through vague and undefined methods. Ludmila hailed from a martial tradition that raised aristocratic Captains, but that wasn’t what the Royal Army required. Her only success thus far at raising Commanders from the civilian population was with the Linum sisters: a result born from a series of fortunate coincidences rather than the product of any purposeful effort.

As such, she looked forward to her time with the Imperial Army, which raised thousands of Commanders with every generation. Many of their best were reportedly from the ranks of the Empire’s martial nobility, but, at the same time, they also had successful Commanders from civilian backgrounds.

Since the foundations of the Imperial Army seemed similar to her own, Ludmila thought it a promising avenue through which to learn how a professional military built and organised itself. Of course, many aspects of a Human military would not fit with the Royal Army of the Sorcerous Kingdom, but that could be said for many things. As with her recent tour of Arwintar, she would observe both the good and the bad while taking working ideas to adapt to their own systems.

Snow and ice sprayed into the air as a Frost Giant crashed into the ground nearby. The Death Warrior who had dispatched him was in turn booted into the air by another Frost Giant and swatted across the battlefield with an iron maul. A Shaman came in from the sidelines to heal the fallen Giant while a Death Priest mirrored her actions on the opposite side.

The way things went was reminiscent of the Grand Arena of Arwintar. Ludmila idly wondered if Frianne and Dimoiya would find it entertaining in the same way.

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“By the way,” Gunnar said as they watched the Frost Giant Warrior rise to his feet, “have you had a chance to visit the shipyards?”

“I haven’t,” Ludmila replied, “but I saw the wooden barge delivered to Feoh Berkana. It’s very different from the knarr that my territory uses.”

“It’s not the same as our longships,” Gunnar agreed. “The barges are simple enough that our new shipwrights were able to build them according to Countess Corelyn’s specifications, so I suppose it made for good practice. They appear to be fine for calmer waters, but I have doubts over whether they can survive rough seas.”

After months of research, Clara, Liane and Florine had put together their heads to draft the first prototypes for their new cargo fleets. The schematics for these prototypes had then been sent to the newly-restored Frost Giant shipyards on the northern coast where they were built and their performance analysed. A vessel using the most promising design was then taken to Feoh Berkana for the Dwarves to study.

The foundries of Feoh Berkana would fashion new versions of the barge out of steel, which would then be delivered to Corelyn Harbour for assembly. It would take some years of extended testing and ongoing development, but once a suitably refined version of the barge was settled upon, those with runecrafted hulls would be commissioned. As with Liane’s new machinery, they would be immune to rust and the wear and tear that came with everyday use.

Ludmila had pointed out some flaws with the designs, such as lack of defensive measures and how they might be destroyed or at least rendered inoperable, but her friends chased her away saying that civilian cargo vessels didn’t need armour, allocations for military personnel, or siege weaponry. Logistical efficiency was the name of the game and, admittedly, the ships wouldn’t be entirely defenceless as they were to be operated by Undead crews.

“You’ve started constructing ships of your own?”

“We have,” Gunnar nodded, “but building warships suited for Frost Giants is a long process. It will take at least until next autumn before the first set is ready for sea trials. Then we must learn how to sail again as our ancestors did. It’s embarrassing to think that you’re probably better at operating a longship than a Frost Giant.”

“The basics aren’t difficult,” Ludmila said. “The Death Warrior captaining my knarr was able to manage with his Skeleton crew after less than a week of practice.”

“So even the Undead are better at sailing than we are,” Sigurd grumbled. “Great.”

Ludmila parted ways with the Frost Giants, activating her Frostburn Phoenix Hairpin. Skimming over the glacier as she rapidly descended towards Feoh Berkana, she switched to her ‘casual equipment’ along the way. In a space along the dwarven highway outside the city, she found Lord Cocytus inspecting the Undead contingent readied for delivery to the Baharuth Empire. He occasionally stopped to fuss over one thing or the other. Ludmila greeted him as she alighted on the rocky ground nearby.

“Grand Marshal.”

“Mm.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his brusque reply. Others might see him as a cold individual and pale at his stern mannerisms, but they gave Ludmila a sense of familiar warmth. Falling into step behind him, she quietly followed as he continued to make his way along the ranks of Death-series servitors.

Each was what the Royal Army tentatively labelled a ‘Cavalry Squad’. Twelve Death Cavaliers made up the bulk of each. Unlike the Death Cavaliers employed by the Royal Army, they did not ride Soul Eaters but the bonded Undead mounts unique to each Death Cavalier. Additionally, there were two Death Knights and two Death Warriors to be stationed for the defence of each city. In place of the Elder Lich sergeants that usually led the Royal Army’s Death-series squads were Death Priests who would serve to maintain the condition of their respective units.

According to her briefing materials, these squads had been drilled in the northeastern portions of the Duchy of E-Rantel, which shared terrain similar to what one would find in the developed portions of the Baharuth Empire. As they were slated to serve in conditions ideally suited to them, the Royal Army projected few difficulties in their daily operations.

On paper, at any rate. The details of how they would be used by the Empire would be determined by the leadership of the Imperial Army. This mostly made sense – it was their country, after all – but Ludmila’s recent experiences in the Empire left room for doubt as to how well they would be received and integrated. While unlikely, given that the Empire had discharged 20,000 soldiers to accommodate the change, she hoped that they would not be hidden away and left to collect dust somewhere.

After Lord Cocytus finished inspecting the final rank of troops, Ludmila followed him back to the front of the formation. He gestured to a tacked-up Soul Eater.

“Your mount.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Ludmila placed a foot in a stirrup. “Were there any updates to my orders or new information relevant to them?”

“None.”

“I see.”

She mounted the Soul Eater and adjusted herself in the saddle. After she drew her mantle about herself, Lord Cocytus spoke.

“Your concerns: valid. Catastrophe is possible. Failure…to be avoided.”

“Then should we not dispatch forces appropriate for dealing with this Ancient Dragon?”

“No. This is preparation. For the future. Our allies, if attacked, have these forces. Their use – must be mastered.”

The forces of the Sorcerous Kingdom were unmatched to Ludmila’s knowledge, yet, at the same time, she understood that they were neither omniscient nor omnipresent. She recognised the lease of the Death-series servitors to the Empire for what it was: a force positioned to blunt powerful attacks. What Lord Cocytus implied was that they should be utilised as effectively as possible by their allies. By doing so, it might buy the precious seconds or minutes needed for the appropriate reinforcements to arrive from the Sorcerous Kingdom.

“The Royal Court has reviewed our report from Arwintar, then.”

“Yes,” Lord Cocytus nodded. “The threat, distant. Measures: being taken. Your orders…are clear?”

“They are, my lord. I will do my best to fulfil the duties entrusted to me. If I may know…what will happen to the man mentioned in our report?”

“Being monitored. Demiurge is pleased. Prudence preserves opportunity. Now, go – your results, anticipated.”

Ludmila turned her attention to the ranks of Undead. The Undead saluted as one in response. She offered a salute of her own to Lord Cocytus before leading the contingent north up the dwarven highway.

They moved as fast as the winding, snowbound route allowed, passing the occasional Soul Eater drawing its sledge between Feoh Berkana and Feoh Jura. Upon reaching Feoh Jura an hour later, their pace slowed further as sledges drawn by Soul Eaters were replaced by wagons drawn by draft animals that carefully negotiated the steep mountain roads. Eventually, Ludmila dismounted to fly over the valley alongside the highway, looking ahead for hazards and traffic around the bends in the road so they could advance at a less cautious rate.

As time went on, she occasionally tested her bow skills against the column. Loosing arrows while flying was something Ludmila had practised since returning from the Katze Plains, but it still wasn’t something she was very proficient at. Attacking a target moving parallel to her was even more difficult than dealing with a strong crosswind. Her range felt drastically reduced when loosing arrows ahead except it was actually increased, while the opposite was true of sending arrows behind her.

The trajectory and velocity of her flight in turn affected the velocity and trajectory of her arrows, often causing her to miss by embarrassing margins. Ludmila’s notion of being able to use a bow while riding Ilyshn’ish around now felt woefully premature, as the Frost Dragon could fly more than five times faster than the basic Fly spell conferred by her hairpin. At that speed, she would be missing entire buildings, never mind being able to hit her opponents.

It was said that mounted archery incorporated both riding skills and archery skills. One might think that, with an intelligent mount, they could focus on the archery part, but even just that was difficult. She couldn’t imagine how much training the mounted archers she had read about had gone through to be remotely effective at their craft.

She rejoined the column as the highway came down out of the mountains to follow alongside the turbulent waters of the River Islein. Several kilometres from the imperial border, a familiar figure appeared from the trees. Ludmila smiled as she brought the column to a halt.

“Good Morning, Lady Aura,” she said. “On patrol?”

“Yup,” the Dark Elf Ranger replied. “I heard you all coming so I came by to take a look.”

Out of the corner of Ludmila’s eye, the already-rigid Undead servitors seemed to straighten even further. She scanned the edge of the forest behind Lady Aura.

“Is Lord Mare with you?”

“Mare usually doesn’t join me on these patrols,” Lady Aura told her. “He’s at your place right now, checking on that new Dryad.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that he’s been visiting Glasir.”

“He’s still all excited about her,” Lady Aura said. “It’s almost as if…”

“Hm?”

“Nothing. Anyhow, he’s been dropping by once or twice a week.”

Ludmila nodded silently. She hadn’t been able to see Glasir at all since she left with her friends for Arwintar, so she often wondered how the newborn Dryad was doing. Nonna hadn’t reported any additional emergencies, at least.

Lady Aura yawned and stretched. Ludmila looked down the highway to the east.

“Since you’re here, my lady,” Ludmila said, “would you like to come and meet the imperial representatives at the border?”

“Nah,” Lady Aura made a face. “I’ve seen ‘em before. Even their best guys aren’t all that.”

Given the Imperial Army contingent’s conduct in the south when the first set of Death-series servitors was transferred, perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to have a Royal Courtier present. If Ludmila had exerted even a bit of pressure in that situation, even the company’s Captain would have broken and fled.

“In that case, we should get back to our duties. It’s been good to see you again, Lady Aura.”

“Mhm. Cya around.”

Lady Aura darted off, hopping north across the river to disappear into the trees on the opposite shore. Ludmila led the Undead contingent forward again, wondering what was in store for them at the imperial border.