Chapter 191: Controlled growth

Ban surveyed the newest seven warriors joining the One Hundred, as seven others would leave it. The One Hundred needed people at the top, and there were few who could do this in all seasons. Warriors who’d been part of the One Hundred even once were called ‘Numbers’ in the other regiments. It was a mark of honor.

 

Two of them were returnees. Kinei was an old Enorian who stood at the edge of what the One Hundred demanded. He tried to join every season as a matter of pride. Sometimes, as was the case today, he made the cut. Prideful twit, but solid and dependable.

 

Sal was a northerner and one of the deadliest spearmen in Harrak, trained by Lady Wamiri herself. He’d left for the Children of the Scale to personally take over his little sister’s squad. The poor sods must have been put through Enttiku’s gauntlet if he was satisfied with the results.

 

Ban nodded. Of the five newcomers, most were young warriors coming into their own. There was even a second woman so Brick would have company. Not like she’d notice.

 

“Alright, listen up,” he said. “For the five of you who join us for the first time, well done lads. And lass. You’re the best New Harrak has to offer. I am proud to go to battle with you lot at my side.”

 

It was an emotional moment for the green bloods. Ban ignored the wet eyes. Ah, to be young again.

 

“Now that that’s out of the way, let me ask you a simple question. As you know, we’re the Empress’ personal guard. Now, do you think someone who flies around slapping dragons and dueling avatars needs a bunch of grunts like us to save her? Do you believe we’re here to protect the deadliest mage on Param?”

 

The five didn’t shuffle, but he could tell their enthusiasm was a bit dampened. That was fine. Ban was an old hand at this.

 

“I asked you a fucking question.”

 

“No sir…”

 

“Thaaaat’s right. So why are we the best of the best, equipped with runic armor and the best steel the yries can make? Why do I hand pick every last one of you meatheads? Why do I spend my valuable time making sure you’re as sharp as can be? Hm? Don’t worry, I’ll tell ya. It’s because we’re not here to guard the empress. We’re here to guard the shit she cares about so she can fly around one tapping house-sized aberrants. We are the tip of the empire’s spear. We are the cornerstone of the formation. We charge across the battlefield and plant our asses where we are needed, and then we hold the line. Come line breakers or knights or mage bombardment, we hold the line. The crossbow girls and the other regiments can look ahead and do their job because we’re in the front and they know we won’t be fucking moving. Isn’t that right folks?”

 

The One Hundred didn’t scream or speak like the others, but they did slam the butt of their steel spears on the ground in a loud, uniformed thud.

 

“I say again, we’re the tip of the spear, and we ram that spear down the throat of anyone who thinks they can fuck with our beloved nation. You will follow me and we will sit ourselves at the front where the killing’s the thickest, and you can rest, stop, or die when I fucking say so. Am I being clear?”

 

“Aye!”

 

“Good. Now let’s go. The Empress wants to try out her new strategist. Dismissed.”

 

As his men — and women now, had to remember that — moved to pick up their packs, Ban turned to the waiting Rollo to see what the arrogant twat had to say. The knight had waited at the entrance of the camp, on foot. A mark of respect. Ban liked him for it.

 

“Ser Rollo, greetings. What do ya want?”

 

“In the future, you might prefer ‘to what do I owe the pleasure?’” the fucker replied with a snide smile.

 

“I’m not one for the fancy shit.”

 

“Well you might want to get a start on that. Congratulations. You are being promoted to viscount.”

 

Ban paled.

 

“You’re joking, right?”

 

“I could not be more serious. By imperial decree, no less.”

 

It was the girl, for sure. That sneaky bitch.

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

“Her Imperial yadda yadda will explain it in person during a ceremony but as far as I can see, it’s a trick to pay us less. We get land, we get people to administer — and tax — and we pay less taxes, but in return we need to buy our own gear.”

 

“Isn’t that just a trick so the other nations don’t look down on our elites so much?”

 

“I’m sure there are more reasons, yes.”

 

“Gods dammit Rollo. Wait, are you becoming a noble as well?”

 

“Ban. I am a noble. I was just granted the land to match.”

 

“Arrogant twit.”

 

The knight’s smile deserved its own set of slaps.

 

“Please, viscount. No need for us to be uncivil, yes? I will see you at the ceremony. Oh, and do bring your wife, yes? She is nominated as well, after all.”

 

If Ban could pale even further, he would.

 

***

 

Viv was kind of sorry to have to reinvent feudalism, but with the increasing load on her administration, she simply didn’t have a choice. The petition line to the throne room was longer than she could shake a void stick at, and that was almost every damn day. And it didn’t concern the tens of thousands of isolated people still waiting for metal tools in their faraway enclaves on the coast. Or the Hadals who wouldn’t be seen in public. Or the innumerable issues that came with refugees and immigrants clashing over laws they were not familiar with. New Harrak was doing well but it was also an absolute mess right now. She needed to offload some of the pressure. She needed… middle managers.

 

So, nobles yeah. Mostly, she’d given ‘margrave’ titles to mayors and exceptional local rulers with the caveat that they could be voted out, and viscount and higher titles to elites and specialists like Solar who couldn’t be arsed to rule but needed some way to be recognized. The unexpected benefit came from the hordes of ambitious people outperforming themselves in the hope of getting the Imperial seal of nobility.

 

Viv knew this would come to bite her in the ass at some point, and she had already formed an order of arbiters hand picked from the clergy to keep an eye out for abuse. It still felt iffy to her modern tastes. Nobles formed factions and groups of interest and then they’d be entrenched as maintainers of the status quo. She just couldn’t think of another way to bring order out of the primordial chaos New Harrak was right now.

 

Her only hope was to keep social mobility alive.

 

Actually, come to think of it, she could also defenestrate uppity entitled assholes on a regular basis. Or give them to Solfis for collection. Hmmm there was an idea.

 

“Concerned about having to redesign the guillotine?” Sidjin asked by her side.

 

“Nah. Well, maybe. Mostly this goes against what my people have fought for for generations… but those were different times and muskets can go a long way towards promoting equality. Anyway… Oh, here’s Ban.”

 

The old man strode through the entrance of the throne room wearing a nice doublet. As expected, he was practically fuming, but there was also a sort of fear here that didn’t sit well with Viv. He had more courage when facing the fake dinosaur thing.

 

“Ban! Welcome. And I see you brought your…”

 

Even with advanced stats, Viv couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she saw the newcomer.

 

Well, to be fair, she should have expected it given the fact Ban junior was a looker, but still, goddamn!

 

Ban’s wife.

 

As tall as Viv. Face cute as a button, blushing in embarrassment. Raw, wholesome charm dripping from a shy smile. Liquid eyes that captivated. Lush, curly hair like sun-kissed obsidian.

 

The body proportions of a Greek goddess. Aphrodite, specifically.

 

“Hmm, hello?”

 

“And that’s what I was worried about…” the old man grumbled.

 

Viv ignored him to give the woman a warm smile, but the poor thing couldn’t meet Viv’s eyes. It was really strange to see such a lack of confidence on someone as tall as her.

 

“Welcome to the celebration, err, —”

 

“Laira.”

 

“Laira. Make yourself comfortable. Ban? Everything alright?” Viv continued as his wife did her best to merge into a nearby wall. It didn’t work.

 

“That’s what I was worried about. Attention! I told her she didn’t have to come but she insisted.”

 

“I had to be here for you,” a little voice squealed.

 

“She’s safe here,” Viv insisted.

 

But Ban merely scowled.

 

“Come on, you can trust people here.”

 

“And her as well,” Sidjin added, trying to contain his laugh. “She can behave in public. promise.”

 

“Wait, you’re afraid of me? I’m kind of insulted,” Viv huffed.

 

“Girl, you’re telling me you’ve never heard of generals with beautiful wives who go ‘missing’ on the frontline and the king suddenly shows a keen interest in the widow?”

 

“Look, Ban, I know you’ve been through some bad experiences, but I’m not like the normal kings around, right? I think I’ve demonstrated that?”

 

“I also know that you’re sword and spell.”

 

Viv frowned. Was that an expression?

 

“You follow two paths. You dive and you climb. You’re on both sides of the civil war.”

 

“I think he means you like girls, also,” Sidjin helpfully whispered.

 

“Yeah yeah I got it. But I’m not an animal. I find your suspicions aggravating.”

 

Ban sighed.

 

“Apologies, girl. I know. I am merely worried. My wife is… very attractive. And too shy for her own good. She cannot defend herself well.”

 

“Just kindly ask Arthur to keep an eye on her.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

 

“Now that is an idea.”

 

“That way, if anyone burns with passion for her, you can, ah, complete the combustion.”

 

Ban relaxed when he realized he was on friendly grounds.

 

“I feel better knowing I can trust you. And I will be keeping an eye on the other.”

 

“Well,” Viv said, trying to cheer the old bugger up. “I think you can trust Rollo as well.”

 

***

 

The army deployed in front of Asterley, the next city on their hopping trip to the capital. Viv had picked Asterley for four reasons.

 

First, it was remarkably well-preserved, a bit like Sinur’s Gate. That meant standing structures. It also meant treasure, and a lot of it, which led to the second reason. New Harrak was always strapped for cash. Hard. Despite record harvests, quick expansion meant a massive need for investment that the banks could not cover alone. Almost all of Viv’s money was bound to one project or another, and it was the same for Sidjin and other rich patrons of the industry. Personal wealth couldn’t cover a nation’s budget. They needed resources, and the best way to get those resources was to put the oversized army to work.

 

And so she did, and for reason number three, they were pushing north. Viv needed reasonable access to Harrak and its untold wealth, but she couldn’t just ferry stuff herself. They needed temporary bases on the way or each portal network node would be overwhelmed with powerful undead every time they smelled some life energy.

 

And four, she needed to challenge Sahin. Jaratalassi might have great instincts, but Sahin remained untried. It wasn’t enough that he had potential. She needed to make sure he was up to the task, and facing an undead horde while she watched was the best test she could think of.

 

As an additional penalty, Sahin didn’t have access to Sidjin, golems, or Arthur. The golems usually practiced by themselves and their coordination outdid that of humans by a significant margin anyway. They didn’t need a strategist.

 

Viv returned her attention to the walls of Asterley. On Sahin’s command, Frosthawk and a couple of other mages sabotaged a segment until it fell, forming a small mound of piled bricks. A moment later, the life lure was triggered.

 

Viv felt the life pulse expand like a breath, bringing a fresh puff of fresh wind to the dry and tasteless air of the deadlands. The answer was immediate. The deadlands were still immensely vast, still immeasurably deadly, and it would not relinquish its hold without fighting every step of the way. The call was made, and the dead answered it. Screams, roars, the cries of centuries of corpses crawled through the gap in the fallen city’s defenses. Revenants ran through the opening while crawlers hoisted their ghoulish frames over the walls. Outside of the city, racing groups of puppeteers gathered the stoutest undead to infuse them with renewed frenzy. Dark fliers gathered overhead to challenge Frosthawk’s dominion.

 

Viv hadn’t seen so many advanced undead since the necromancer couple back in Fort Sky, an eternity ago.

 

Frosthawk flew to meet the new threats. Viv watched him freeze a sort of giant bat solid, causing it to fall to the dusty ground where it exploded into fetid chunks. Meanwhile, the army moved like never before.

 

Viv had always believed the Harrakans moved with discipline and they did, thanks to their exacting training, but they still moved like people. Now, the whole formation coordinated like a smooth body, more organic than should have been possible. Three liberators moved up to blanket the gap in flames, each one alternating with the other so that there would always be something firing. Gut spillers with their horned heads spewed liquids to quench the flames almost as fast as they started. Meanwhile, precise volleys of infused bolts took out crawlers and puppeteers with deadly precision. The witchpact fired from elevated dirt towers that gave them a commanding view of the field. Viv liked the way they were spread out.

 

It was not enough, of course, and the heavies were soon in contact. There, Sahin’s touch proved once again useful. Each rank rotated to let people rest while the main squares moved to receive larger groups in the most efficient manner possible. It was like watching a living, breathing organism punching approaching insects. As the minutes went by, the army held well.

 

Then a massive creature with a thick shell smashed through another part of the wall, opening a second front. Sahin reacted immediately. Pinpoint strikes from the yries catapults covered that opening. Meanwhile, the army advanced, with the witchpact leaving their improvised towers behind.

 

“What the hell is he doing?” Viv wondered as the humans marched towards the approaching — and still intact — hulk.

 

As they were about to make contact, Abenezigel unleashed a mighty spell. Black threads appeared over the undead creature like so many strings to cut, which he did with the help of some solid marksman work. Every time a thread snapped, the undead creature stumbled, parts of its body crumbling to dust. It died before making contact.

 

After that, the formation smoothly moved around the carcass like water flowing around a rock. Sahin sat the One Hundred at the second gap while the line breakers climbed the walls, going to work on the crawlers still there. Once they were covered, two of the liberators advanced to create a kill zone on every approaching street. Shortly after, the witch pact scaled the walls as well so they could take potshots. The entire Harrakan formation was now a turtling fortress using the houses and walls as natural anchors. The only dangerous creatures were easily taken out by Abe before they could cause much damage.

 

It went like this for ten minutes. The tide turned into a wave, then to a trickle, and the tired and wounded were given the time to rest.

 

Viv wondered if bringing Abe was cheating but to be fair, most armies this size had dangerous elites more or less on his level.

 

Ah whatever. The New Harrakans had plenty of strong individual fighters. It made sense to use them like this. And the main point, which was that strategists allow formations to move as if linked by their mind, had been made. With Sahin only on the second step, still, this was an auspicious development.

 

Now she only needed to pay one more extremely valuable addition to her cause. Ugh. It never stopped. With a sigh, she lowered herself next to the command group and the meditating form of her strategist. He had an array of far speakers arranged in front of him, but wasn’t speaking right now. She took it that it was a good time to talk.

 

Nobody was surprised when she softly landed. The only weird element was how exhausted Sahin seemed to be. His skin was pale and clammy despite the chilly weather.

 

“Well, you are certainly proving yourself. Now I would like to ask what your experience is so far?” Viv asked.

 

The sweat on Sahin’s brow redoubled. He blinked, and Viv wondered if she had distracted him at the wrong moment because he looked ready to keel over.

 

“Good. Excellent. On the army side, that is. The vast array of forces at your disposal and their capabilities is simply unheard of, especially for a young and small nation. I am genuinely impressed. Yes. I will also say…”

 

He vacillated and Viv approached, ready to pick him up. He waved her concerns away.

 

“I will say that they perform exactly as requested on the field. Between their discipline and those wonderful ‘radio’ spells you have come up with, I believe we can take on a force several…”

 

He breathed in deeply.

 

“Several times our size. Ugh.”