V13: Chapter 5

  …

  Interlude: Riegert

  …

  Upon hearing the news of the campaign against the Demons, I recalled Jack’s plan to win against the cursed foes the Ancients left us.

  ‘Kill them all.’

  It was something else entirely to see it put into motion.

  On a vast, flattened plain, over fifty thousand troops were arranged in blocks of a thousand. Each block had a dedicated ship descending from the sky to house them and ferry them.

  This was a training exercise for the upcoming campaign. To find flaws in the ships and in the procedure to load the troops and supplies, and to test everything before battle.

  At first, it seemed superfluous, but I, along with Morgan and the officers, found the challenge almost insurmountable from the onset.

  It was only thanks to Jack’s presence that we managed to reach this far.

  The first challenge lay in moving over fifty thousand troops from every corner of our half of the continent and having them ready on the field. A simple affair on paper, best left to the officers on the ground, but our initial plan was dissected. We planned on sending riders to generals in the region and pulling them our way. It was an inefficient plan that did not make use of what we had.

  The age of warlords was over. Trusting a thousand men to an officer and telling him to lead them to another place while giving him funds was wasteful.

  Our Citadels were the foundation of our currency, and every minute not spent making materials for factories was a waste.

  No, I, Morgan, and the others were introduced at length to the logistical corps carefully raised to tend to our supply lines. They manned our dedicated military rail lines, managed the warehouses filled with supplies generated by our farmers and factories, and had at their disposal all forms of communication. From messaging slates from Citadels to messengers on flying horseback and even tall towers with mirrors and everlasting flames, they were able to coordinate commands across our lands.

  Rather than call for a regional general like a warlord to come with their troops, we called upon the logistical corps of the region. They provided us with all the information that they had on their region’s current state. Within the hour we understood how many men and supplies were in that region, and then we gave the order for how many men and supplies that we would need for the operation.

  We gave the order, stating our rank and position, and verifying with codes that we kept on our person.

  Five thousand soldiers, their supporting auxiliaries, and a month of supplies.

  Then, within the hour, we received confirmation of our request, and within another three hours, confirmation that all those men, their officers, their supporters, their weapons, and their supplies would arrive by train to our location within five days.

  After six hours of talking, conversing, and analysis, five thousand men were to appear where we were within five days. Then, of course, everything was standardized across the realm. The same order was sent to nine other regions, and in an hour, we received confirmation of the order, and then in another three, news of their arrival.

  Eight hours of deliberation in total.

  Then, fifty thousand trained soldiers with all that they needed would arrive at our doorstep.

  I had looked only upon Jack’s efforts on the front. In weapons, in training, and in the strength of our newest soldiers. Perhaps I even understood how mighty our ability to train so many soldiers was as well after seeing the numbers we had. However, now, I saw the more terrifying truth. The logistical corps, the communications systems, the trains, and all his effort to create more factories, jobs, and people… were all for his singular plan to ‘kill them all.’

  He has woven a great and terrible spell. With a single Citadel, he carved a potent ritual upon the very continent itself.

  Every Citadel was a point of focus. Every city is a locus of power. He gathered people, built them factories where their slightest effort produced tons of materials for war and prosperity, and found the brightest minds and gave them all they needed. He made them happy and eager to have children and created institutions in which those children would be raised as loyal, strong patriots eager to protect their homes.

  Through these points of focus and loci of power, he carved roads as mana channels, then made them finer and capable of transporting more by adding rail and myriad forms of communication. From merchants with mules to wagon trains to engines pulling hundreds of tons upon rails, all supplemented by flying transports. People, materials, and goods moved through our lands, and those three things were the fuel that the ritual needed to produce armies armed with weapons the Ancients would see as crude but lethal and who could appear anywhere within days.

  Through two decades he plotted, planned, and sowed the seeds to craft an army that can arrive anywhere on the continent within a week, be deployed anywhere in the world within less than a month, and have everything that they need to wage war.

  Now that we know how to use the system, we can call for thousands of troops within the hour.

  I had wondered how Jack planned on keeping our lands secure with us all away, but after seeing that display, I realized that he had it in the palm of his hand.

  Even though he sometimes said that Khanrow and I were the true leaders of the realm, the truth was that he had already stolen it from us.

  His mastery over the spell was without question.

  The logistical corps and communication corps were manned mostly by Iterants, and they were loyal to him and him alone. It was with a quiet realization that the greatest weapon I’ve ever seen, which I only just recognized, belonged to Jack in its entirety.

  The armored, box-like gray hulls that descended from the skies to house a thousand troops each were an afterthought. The masses of soldiers present with weapons and bodies gifted from the ancients were replaceable. All the officers and elites that could defeat me from three decades ago were just the latest of a new generation from officer schools.

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  It all paled in comparison to the fact that Jack needed only say several words, and they would all amass to do as he bid within days.

  As the great ships descended, and as we all worked to have our troops board and take to the skies to practice living in the skies, I could only consider our own responsibilities quaint in comparison.

  Now, we were all but servants who were being given tools to achieve what their master desired.

  It was humbling but also encouraging.

  No other came to mind who could do better than the King of Wisdom.

  …

  Interlude: Khanrow

  …

  The Guardians were unable to hold the mountain pass against the Ascendant.

  Despite all their efforts, the enemy took the mountain pass and created a fortress from which they could enter the continent.

  The Guardians were unable to intercept the Stymphalian raids that arrived from high altitudes.

  Stymphalians wreaked havoc across multiple towns, slaughtering their populations for food, and then used mass sacrifices to ascend to greater heights and escape.

  The Guardians' investigative teams on the Sahuagin went missing only to be found as bloated thralls on a raid against a town that suddenly began to spawn abominations to seize multiple surrounding villages.

  Meanwhile, our lands were safe and secure, and a campaign to ravage demonic lands was in order.

  To call the Guardians of the Moon our equals was almost laughable.

  Gilbert, however, found it infuriating.

  “Why do they not listen!? No. Why don’t they act as they should!?” We were in a safehouse in former Academy lands. The former heartland of the continent was no more than a large agricultural area with some light industry. Outside our safehouse there were fields of corn, wheat, and other grains from the ancient seed cache growing. It was a peaceful land that could easily feed the whole continent. “They were informed! They read his majesty’s notes and predictions, yet they still failed!?”

  “Sometimes one can do their best and still fail.” I reminded Gilbert as he paced through the wooden cabin. It was a simple, quaint building that I would’ve thought adequate as shelter three decades ago. Now, I could barely stand it. It had no running water. Insects crawl through gaps. Everything from the chairs to the bed was coarse and rough to use for long periods. The luxuries provided to all in our lands were so common they became a part of life. “But you are correct. The Guardians squandered the knowledge they were given and believed in their own strategies rather than his majesty’s.”

  Gilbert took a steadying breath and nodded before taking a seat.

  Two minutes of pacing, and now he was under control.

  Good.

  “Let’s evaluate the situation objectively and begin with the Ascendant.” I proposed, and he gave a nod. On the simple wooden table were maps and reports that the Guardians would’ve paid pounds of gold for without a second thought to keep them away from our hands. They still searched for Iterants in their lands. They made great use of their glut of merchant tribes. However, with much of their land ravaged, it was easy to place our own people and find those willing to do almost anything for wealth. Some worked for new identities and places in our realm, too. “Let’s begin with casualty rates.”

  “They engaged in the pass with the remnants of the Merchant armored column that we gave them. A quarter was lost in the initial engagement. Half were taken out of commission in the battle. Only a quarter of the tanks remain.” Roughly five hundred had remained after their campaigns. Three-quarters gone meant little more than a hundred of the armored vehicles remained. “They only managed to keep the Ascendant in the pass with deluges of Citadel Guardians. Thousands were sent in, and now all those materials are in the Ascendant’s hands.”

  “Champion and mage losses?”

  “No champions lost and only a handful of mages. None were especially strong. It’s a small blessing. Most of their losses were their undead footsoldiers.” Gilbert shook his head. A sigh left his lips. “I understand that their greatest loss are merely forces they stole from an enemy, but they have given the Ascendant a foothold into the continent. They don’t even have fortresses or defenders that can stop any concentrated attack without risking their Champions!”

  “I agree with that assessment. Now, let’s move onto the Stymphalian threat. Are they simply too fast for the Undead to reach?”

  “They are. The raiding party is relatively small. A militia group can deal with them, but the Guardians of the Moon only have their Armed Guard, and they’re too small to be of use.” The Armed Guard was light cavalry armed with carbines, light armor, and sabers. Spread across the new lands of the Guardians, they were effective in routing brigands and bringing order to the new realm. They also quelled protests and insurrections against the Guardians of the Moon. On undead horses, they could ride and arrive anywhere swiftly, but as Gilbert said, they were too spread out. “Any military force they have that can kill the threat is too slow. Their armed guard can keep up, but they’ll simply get killed. And, of course, they can’t have militia because the surplus arms and defenses they erect will be used against them by the populace.”

  Thus, the Stymphalians can arrive, wreak havoc, and withdraw from Guardian lands with little issue.

  “But overall losses are light, correct?”

  “In terms of assets and resources, yes, but Guardian lands are already in a state of unrest. You know as well as I that this will only drive the number of insurrections higher.” Gilbert pointed out bluntly. “It is not helped by their rigidity in their ways. They’re refusing any individuality to their conquered subjects. All fall beneath their laws and nothing else. That alone breeds discontent, but now they can’t even protect their subjects while forcing their old lives away.”

  “Well spotted and well-reasoned. The Stymphalians may prove to be the greater threat, but let’s move onto the Sahuagin.”

  “They remain contained to the coastal regions, but they’re sending tendrils out. Monsters that obey their commands stalk towards new villages and try to infiltrate old forger cities. They know their foes who once kept them in check are gone.” The Forgers employed oathbound warriors to defeat the Sahuagin. Individuals who were willing to give up everything for power were set upon by the monsters from the deep. Thus, until an invasion brought them low. The Forgers held the line against an ancient foe of our people. But those people are gone, the organization is gone, and the forger’s methods and way of life are to be forgotten. Much that was to be discarded wouldn’t be missed, but some things would be. “If what his majesty’s predictions are true, then they will see this as their chance to gather slaves and flesh to fuel their people’s insatiable hunger.”

  I nodded at his assessment and looked over the map.

  Half of the continent was secure. Sahuagin incursions into our lands were routed with zeal by the Iterants. Stymphalians arrived and were met with waves of bullets and a dedicated militia. Lives were lost and casualties were plenty, but they were given honor for their efforts, and those who were wounded were healed. The Ascendant and the Demons both couldn’t establish themselves in our lands.

  All we had to fear was another foe from ancient times.

  The ones from above that Jack suspected would take note of our advancements and try to stymie our efforts.

  However, for now, our lands were secure.

  The Guardians of the Moon, meanwhile, were floundering on every front and rapidly losing lives and resources.

  Enough was being lost that Gilbert worried for them, despite them being our rivals.

  In the end, though, the path we would take was already decided.

  “They are to endure and to struggle against these threats on their own, unless the Citadels are at risk.” I relayed Jack’s decision to Gilbert, and he froze. “If they are, then we will move to take their Citadels before the enemy can.”

  I searched him for any sign of rejecting the decision and felt relief as a burden fell from his shoulders.

  “Thank goodness, trying to save them would have only hurt our own people.” I knew him well enough to tell when he was telling the truth. Knowing that we were going to leave the Guardians to their fate lessened his burden a great deal. “I presume we’ll forward this information anyway?

  “Of course, but no matter how much they struggle, we’ll stay our hand unless the Citadels are at risk. It is the least that they can do after all we’ve done for them.” Years of aiding them and supporting the Guardians of the Moon were set to bear fruit. We gave them many opportunities, supported them, and even made peace with them even though we could have taken all that they had. Now, it was their time to repay us. “We will know the truth of what they are doing, but this is their trial to overcome. Not ours.”

  They believe themselves the true inheritors of the Ancient’s will?

  Fine.

  Let them prove it against what remains of the Ancient’s enemies.