Monday morning came just as fast as expected. Demia had gone over a rough outline of the formation we’d be learning, just to be sure I understood it enough to direct my recruits, and once we’d passed out all the spears, we were all ready to get started training. After a quick stop at Camdens for wish allocation (I granted an extra bringing my stockpile to eleven) we all met the training field to get started.
I marveled at my new armor as I walked, how light and responsive it was, how secure I felt. Even the crown just felt RIGHT on me, in a way I definitely hadn’t expected. The cape swished behind me gloriously as I walked, and I had to admit I felt pretty fucking awesome. The impression I was making was clearly the one I’d been aiming for because all of my recruits were staring in awe at my magnificence.
More than that, the ten lines of ten in front of me seemed much straighter and more orderly than before, and I smiled with pride at how well things had been going. We’d done a few more point exercises, and our next monthly tournament was coming up soon. The carrot and stick approach had really worked out.
“Alright.” Said Demia “Anyone with a defensive Job up front. We’re doing three rows of thirty with ten alternates standing by in case of injury. First thirty will be defenders. Crouch down in the front. Shields up if you have them, which you’d better if you’re a defensive Job. Behind them I want Attackers. Have your spears pointed forward and be ready to thrust between the defenders. Underhand grip and coiled to strike. Last row is overhand strikers. Any ranged attackers will be there channeling their Skills through their spears.”
Everyone nodded, taking up their positions. The first thirty recruits knelt down, though Demia adjusted their stance a few times. They needed to be able to stand and move if needed, but also be solid enough in stance to tank a hard push. Shields from the first row were interlocked slightly to share force among the others, with their spears ready to stab out between the gaps after an assault where they pulled back their shields.
The second rank was just regular standing spearman, using underhand grips to stab over the shoulders of their kneeling defenders. Last row was overhand spears, and anyone who could channel ranged attacks through a weapon was stationed there, both because they were the least defensible and to put them to best use.
“Now, to test out your defenses, we decided that we needed something a bit more…lifelike.” I said with a devilish grin. “A good friend of mine let me borrow the services of her animal companion to serve as a sparring partner.”
As if on cue, from behind the nearest building came a colossal earth shaking roar. A form stalked out, sized specifically to match the F-ranked stone lions we’d seen, but infinitely more terrifying.
Though also F-rank (albeit very close to E at this point) Randall was nothing if not intimidating. The huge bear was rippling with muscle courtesy of his heavy Might leaning, and the new outfit that Sonia had finished for him yesterday certainly didn’t help.
Dark green plate armor ran the length of the massive animal, shoulders stacked with defensive pauldrons, midsection plated with flexible overlapping pieces of green metal, and arms covered with sturdy greaves that linked up to a set of flexible foot coverings with frankly unnecessarily long claw augments. His head was covered in a blank but bear shaped mask of green metal with lenses over the eyes that gleamed in the daylight like some kind of weakness sensor.
The material, according to Jessie, was something called ‘Vital Vanadium’ and was an alloy of Might and Vitality leaning metals that maximized both durability and forward momentum. Every plate was carefully and delicately carved with beautiful forest and plant scrollwork that worked to camouflage the enchantments imprinted into the metal.
I had no fucking clue what it DID since Jessie didn’t want to share, but it did something. Who knew how animal Skills worked, but Randall just seemed so much stronger in the gear, though it being E-rank probably helped.
“You want us to fight THAT?” Squeaked Alanna. “He’s a MONSTER. We’ll all die if that thing hits us.”
Shaking my head, I waved her off. “Nah, I told him to hold back. Plus it’s safer. Nightstrike’s century is training with a Hellhound. Trust me, this is way better. You can’t hurt Randall in his armor, especially not with those spears, so he has no reason to try to hurt any of you. You’re just going to practice holding charges. We’ll start slow and then work up to his best. Once you can stop him you’ll be well and truly ready for anything.”
I didn’t mention the stone lions directly, I wasn’t sure what Camden was telling people, but this was his show.
Looking at he big metal clad bear, I raised an eyebrow. “You ready Randall?” He chuffed, nodding in my direction, I swept an arm at the formation. “Then let em’ have it!” With a savage roar, Randall bolted forward, his body blurring as the full weight of his massive form streaked toward the defenders.
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The front row panicked, standing up and trying to adjust to…something. Randall hit them head on and they went flying in every direction like bowling pins. Some of them went into the dirt, some into the air, and I saw one of the middle ranks get flung into the side of a building hard enough that the top half of him punched through it and only his legs were sticking out.
I waited until they got back up and resumed their formation stances. “Ok.” I clapped my hands together to get everyone’s attention. “I have some notes. All the stuff you just did? Do other stuff. Like almost anything else. You’re in the stances you’re in for a reason. Don’t move before impact, that defeats the purpose.” I glared at one of them. “Ichabod, if I see you trip Betty again you’re going in the front row WITHOUT a shield. Or armor. Don’t fuck up my day Ichabod, or I’ll fuck yours up way worse.”
The muscular dark skinned man averted his eyes, and I turned my attention back to the group as Alanna raised snapped. “That's easy for you to say at E-rank. That thing is terrifying. He's fully armored in E-rank metal. Might as well be a giant wrecking ball.”
I shrugged. “Impact affects durability and conceptual weight, that's true. But there's a HUNDRED of you. If you're in the right formation the armor vs. all of you. You should come out on top. Might is a factor too, but you're all mid to high F-rankers. Formations are made specifically for situations like this. It's a relatively small gap.”
Part of my reason for this was to show them that the gap between F and E-rank was surmountable. On the off chance one of the E-rank lions took a shot my people should be able to stay calm. Low E-rank anyway. We'd take care of anything else. That's what the elite units and the commanders were for after all.
Eventually, I decided that their problem was less about power and more about appearances. I spun up my staff. “Alright then. How about this. I'll try to break your formation personally. I'll hold back enough not to punch through anyone's shield or armor. All you have to do is block my charge. That work for you?”
Despite making a complete lack of sense, they seemed to calm down a bit at that. I supposed it made some sense. I wasn’t a bear the size of a bus (or more realistically a large car right now) and I was human and more capable of holding back in their eyes. Everyone shuffled, assuming their positions.
I set myself, getting ready to attack. I considered several strategies, several dangerous moves, and I almost wanted to battle test my armor, but any actual effort would tear them apart like wet tissue paper. In terms of raw Might I was probably lower than quite a few of them, but the pure multiplier of my Impact would mean anything I did would be exponentially more effective.
No poison, no black flame, and Pit of Despair would be a hard counter to a formation so it was useless for this. That left me with good old fashioned brute force. When I was sure they were ready for me, I set my staff across myself, holding it in both hands parallel to the ground so it would hit the largest surface area.
Then I charged. My body, under a consistent effect of State of Grace because of my armor, blurred forward, barely touching the ground with each bounding step.
With a primal shout, rather than retreating, the first row roared, shoving their shields forward to close any gaps and form the strongest defensive barrier. My staff hit length wise, the force spreading through all the shields more evenly because of the wide dispersal, and the phalanx grunted as they were forced back but not knocked over.
Hopping back lightly, I held up my hands. “See? You stopped me. I wasn’t going all out or anything, but I’m an E-ranker, and quite honestly a tougher one than most in terms of pure Impact. Randall isn’t E-ranked. He’s just wearing some bulky armor. If you can stop me you can stop him.”
That almost definitely wasn’t true. Randall was Might specced, and with that armor in a head on contest of raw strength I wasn’t sure I could even come close to beating him, but he was holding back quite a bit here, so it would be fine for them to think so.
I saw multiple faces firm with determination, and was glad I’d decided to show them that. Of course, I also made a note to show off my new functionality with Mephistopheles at some point. Wouldn’t do to have them lose respect for my raw power. I had them reset again, and gestured to Randall.
He took up position as I walked over to Demia. “So, what do you think?” I asked my blue haired teacher.
“That was well done.” She said with a nod. “It was clear you held back as well, but it built their confidence. At this rate, they’ll be more than ready to grasp the proper formation when the real spears are finished.”
I nodded. “Sonia worked up a design, but she has another specialist who works with weapons, so aside from the basic construction she won’t be doing most of the work. She IS an Arcane Armorer. That means we’ll be making good time with two crafters on the project. They should all be done in time.”
Of course, there were the E-rank spears that would need to be made for the commanders and elites, but there were far fewer of us than the rank and file, so those would take a fraction of the time. We should be well and truly ready when those four months elapsed. Or as ready as we could be.
We watched as Randall hit the ranks of the defenders again, and they actually held this time…until he backhanded one of the weak links and smashed through the formation. I winced at that, but seeing their crumbling defense reminded me that I still had to upgrade my own. I smirked to myself as I realized this would be the perfect time to perfect my new stance.
Once training was over, I sent everyone away except Randall. The bear would be perfect for helping me perfect my new defensive form. I needed something that would soak damage. Something less dependent on stored attacks or stability. I had a hell of a lot of great defense skills to work into it, and some perfect ideas on how to make it work.