Chapter 192: Is Wimdy

One year later

 

“Lord Sidjin will not attend,” the pale messenger said.

 

Viv sighed before thanking the southerner, one of many new recruits into their army. Sidjin was throwing himself into resurrecting the remnants with a vengeance and that was taking entirely too much of his time, but she could hardly blame him. The remnants were beset on all sides by monsters and tribes. Sidjin perhaps saw this as a second chance, an opportunity to save one more people from cruel neighbors. He’d started by sterilizing the southern edges along with any raider tribes he could get his blender spells on, then he’d moved north to cleanse monster nests along the coast. Viv might be the empress, but in the remnants hinterlands, it was Sidjin children were named after.

 

She’d traveled there to help as well. Some of the more distant places had reverted to caveman behavior from tools to habits, some of them living in buried warrens and wearing rags. It was a stern reminder that humanity was never more than a generation away from total collapse. Sidjin and his followers were fighting to change that, one village at a time.

 

“Well, since he’s not showing up, we might as well start the council.”

 

“First order of business is a case Sidjin brought before us. The lead artisan for the pottery workshop has been found guilty of embezzlement,” Abe said. “It is a crime that calls for a death sentence by Harrakan law, as well as the seizure of his family fortune.”

 

He shook his head, white locs moving in concert.

 

“Sidjin recommends a stern approach, however I believe Lady Azar had another proposal?”

 

“Honestly, not really,” the woman in question huffed. “We’re already having difficulties rooting out the culture of corruption from Frostbay. Preferential treatment is not the way to go. I would rather lose the pottery production.”

 

“I assume he is the only one with the proper knowledge?” Viv asked.

 

“The most advanced ones, in any case.”

 

Viv didn’t really have to consider the question. Unfortunately, the nearby window opened to a familiar silverite mask.

 

//I have a proposal.

 

Viv rolled her eyes.

 

“Let me guess, it involves letting him work while executing his heir?”

 

//Not quite.

//His heir is also a worker, therefore it would be an inefficient use of resources.

//However, Nim the fell-handed reported that he dotes on his daughter.

 

“Let me stop you right there.”

 

//If you execute her while he watches…

 

“We don’t do that anymore, Solfis.”

 

//Spoilsport.

//I miss a good execution.

 

“But we hang people every week!”

 

//It lacks artistry.

//No matter.

//I see you will not be convinced.

 

“Execute the guilty. Slap fines on the family of the estimated embezzled amount. Oh, and have the apprentices compete to see who will be next in line to manage the workshop. I’d bet anything many of them know more than they let on. We don’t need to have the best pots on Param. It’s for the internal market, mostly, anyway.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“What else?”

 

“Tool production. Is slowing down,” Lak-Tak clicked. “Market. Saturated.”

 

Viv tilted her head at Ser Geneva-violation. It was rare for him to attend. She had an inkling as to why he was here today.

 

“Reallocating production capabilities to liberators. We require. More cores. For propulsion.”

 

“Fine. Getting to Harrak will be my priority once we return from the steppes, I promise.”

 

“Artillery shell production starting. We need. Stockpile. How large?”

 

“You can stop at seventy thousand.”

 

The rest of the council gasped. They still didn’t get it. For most of the army’s earliest engagements, the witchpact crossbows had to ration quarrels and even then, they ran out in one hour, forced to tear used projectiles from the bodies of the fallen. Viv had massive reserves of steel and wood and she was going to use them.

 

“Look, after a war has started, it’s too late to try to build up reserves. If anyone really attacks us, I want them to scream in confusion while we unload entire vaults on their heads, okay? The state can afford it.”

 

“But the resources…”

 

“We’re getting metal from the remnants as well. Trust me, having massive supplies will completely change the way war is fought, if it comes to that.”

 

“The continent is fully at peace for now,” Lady Azar said.

 

“First, it’s not. The Kark and the Pure League are still fighting.”

 

Lady Azar conceded the point with a frown.

 

“It’s not because one side isn’t human that it’s not a war, and you’d better remember that because the Empire of Dawn will come back to wipe out that humiliation we inflicted upon them. Second, it’s not going to last. It never does, here. Yries artillery will give us a glimpse of the power of a modern Earth army, if we end up needing it.”

 

At least, she hoped so. Special stats and magic might change a lot, but there was something to say about mass production. Honestly, she would bet on any minor earth military against her own and that was with steel-plated heavies at her back.

 

“Alright, what else?”

 

“Two more spies arrived with the latest group of immigrants,” Lady Azar said. “One Baranese, one Enorian. And there were some Manipeleso bankers too, come because of increased demand.”

 

Viv nodded. The Golden Scale bank and the Manipeleso Bank and Exchange were engaged in a healthy bout of competition that Viv had managed to keep clean by threatening both parties with terrible fates should they push her. It had worked so far. As for the spies, they were an inevitable part of having so many newcomers. New Harrak’s population was skyrocketing. It didn’t matter anyway.

 

“Alright, as usual, keep an eye on them.”

 

“Should we not imprison them? Or at least ban them?” Rakan asked, a bit confused.

 

He must have missed Viv’s previous lesson. The rest of the table took on expressions of sufferance as they knew they’d have to listen to her ramble again, but such was the prerogative of the sovereign. She could ramble and it counted as a speech.

 

“If you know who the spies are, you can filter what information they get rather than killing them and perhaps missing the next spy they send as replacement. And another thing. Solfis?”

 

//When we go to war, we can kill all of their spies and send their heads as an early message.

//Any spies we missed will run away in terror.

 

Viv nodded. It was all very evil-empire efficient.

 

“And tell Thirteen not to mess with them! One of the Helockian spies got spooked and ran off!” Viv complained.

 

The spy had been one of her favorite cooks. Thirteen, the oldest Hadal woman, just enjoyed toying with people too much, and now the hallowed empress couldn’t get that delicious dish that reminded her of Jollof rice anymore! Disgrace.

 

“Will you really go to the Kark steppes?” Lady Azar asked while Viv grieved for the Harrakan restaurant scene.

 

The old schemer didn’t seem to approve. Viv was sure, however. She’d only delayed her excursion for too long due to a variety of valid reasons, most of which required some sort of workaround. It didn’t change the fact her official casus belli against the Pure League was soon expiring and Marruk’s tribe was already expiring, and they’d been dying off for thirty years. She had to find a way to face her difficulties fast. The most important one was logistics.

 

There were only two paths to the remnants of Marruk’s tribe. One went through the cities of the Pure League led by Luten, which Viv had every intention of fucking over, who were excluded from the portal network for being rabid assholes, and against whom Viv still hadn’t used her alliance-approved limited scope casus belli granted after they’d tried to fuck over her embassy. Going through their land with a contingent of armed Kark just meant Viv would have to contend with several armies fighting on their home territory, backed by the Black Blades, one of the most elite assassin outfits on the continent.

 

Actually, simply the best one after the Hadals if the Hadals could be arsed.

 

Obviously that was suboptimal.

 

The second solution was to go through the Kark steppes, either going north from Enoria, which was its own can of worms, or through the imperial mountain tunnel. After that, it would be a long trek through the steppes populated by Kark.

 

Kark who were only marginally less friendly towards humans than they were towards other tribes. It would be accurate to say that the needle of race relations was currently firmly lodged at the ‘genocide’ level and unlikely to move any time soon. If Viv wanted to get through there, she had to go fast, and the solution had unexpectedly come from Frosthawk. The old air archmage had grabbed enough carpenters to build an arch and proceeded to turn the ship-building ‘industry’ of the remnants to a new project ‘for training’. The result was, frankly, appalling from an engineering perspective: a land ship.

 

With wheels.

 

The point being that it could just keep trudging forward at a good pace instead of having people forced to stop to sleep. Viv thought it was singularly impractical, but this was Nyil. Fire-breathing saurians with no business being airborne frequently raided her pantry. One of the fairy tale calamities pulled all nighters calculating risk ratios so… maybe it would work. If anything, they might roll away at a brisk 3km an hour while the Kark sentries laughed their asses off. She could only hope.

 

“It should work,” she said. “We can also use the new path to hopefully make contact with the merl.”

 

The other councilors nodded. The merls had access to rare and precious goods harvested from the deeper segments of Deadshield forest, but there was no direct line between Harrak and them at the moment. Viv hoped that she could build one along the edge of the steppes, which would be very profitable in the long run. It would also complete her Pokedex by having minions from every sapient race on the continent, but the others didn’t need to know that.

 

***

Sangor, King of Enoria, kneeled before the statue of Maranor.

 

“Praying?” his paramour asked. “That is not like you.”

 

“The Empress is leaving her den on some unknown expedition. I am praying for her safe return.”

 

“Really? I would be jealous if I were not so curious. I thought you didn’t like her very much. What changed?”

 

“I still think she will be the end of many lives, but the council is unanimous. Should she perish, Harrakan succession laws will apply, and she only has one clear, direct heir.”

 

The silence hung between them for a few stupefied seconds.

 

“Surely, not the dragon?”

 

“The dragon.”

 

“A dragon leading humans? They will never stand for it.”

 

“Not only will they stand for it, they will teleport to the place where they believe the Empress has perished, and cause a lot of misery. My spymaster confirmed that the dragon is an expert caster who can, too, use teleportation magic.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

 

“I find myself concerned, for once.”

 

“The dragon also has a brother. They were seen flying side by side.”

 

Again, silence spread throughout the room.

 

“Perhaps I should pray as well?”

 

“It would not hurt.”

 

***

 

The expedition assembled a few days later at the edge of Kazar, near the newly built warehouse district. To Viv’s surprise, Arthur insisted on coming to ‘scout new prospects’. Marruk was here, of course, along with the two hundred Kark mercenaries currently serving with her and a lot of processed steel. The rest of the team consisted of Frosthawk, Lak-Tak and, to her surprise, Rakan, who seemed concerned. He dragged Viv to a separate spot while they loaded supplies in a column of carts and tanks.

 

“Viv. I need your help with something.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“After we are done with the Kark thing, I would like you to come with me to the far east. You are aware of the other elemental archmage of Param, right?”

 

Viv did, or at least she remembered.

 

“It’s a woman who lives on a raft off the coast of Halluria, right? A blue elemental archmage?”

 

“Yes. In any case, she is known to have healing abilities. Spiritual healing, that is.”

 

Viv’s mind clicked immediately.

 

“Your leaking core. You think she can help.”

 

“I know she can help from various testimonies I found in Baranese archives… Or at least, she’s helped people with similar issues in the past. I need to find her. This might be my only chance at a normal core.”

 

“Okay,” Viv replied without hesitation. “You come with us. After we’ve helped the Kark, we travel there right away. Probably by sea.”

 

“Thank you. I knew you would understand my pain. And…”

 

“She will expect payment, even if she agrees.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What sort of favor are we talking about?”

 

“I don’t know yet, but money wouldn’t hurt.”

 

“I’ll take some with me.”

 

***

 

By the time Viv looked at the list of people and gear leaving, there was one more addition scrawled on the manuscript at the bottom. Hadals. And quite a few of them. Led by the boss himself?

 

“Irao?” she asked a nearby wall.

 

Shadows flickered at a distance. She felt black mana stir, and approached. A voice came from the corner of the nearby warehouse

 

“Hellow. I am curious,” it simply said.

 

“About the Black Blades?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The list counted some of the oldest and deadliest Hadals including Zero-Five, the axe murderer. It appeared that the old guard was growing bored.

 

“You guys just want to test yourselves, right?”

 

“The Kark must learn,” Irao whispered in the wind.

 

“Alright. Just make sure you bring all your gear because we won’t be able to head back easily.”

 

“You will not even see it.”

 

Viv hoped she wouldn’t have to carry it either.

 

***

 

The convoy teleported north towards the land of the Mountain People for a brief drinking competition, then to the iron mines of Min Goles. Viv was pleased that the decrepit retreat she’d huddled in after her flight from Kazar had turned into a bustling industrial city, complete with gardens and fields for the Yries to feed themselves. As promised, they’d kept Varska’s precious flower alive. The Suncult Marea was now a large yellow bubble of sunshine on top of the dead mage’s tomb, standing as a symbol of hope and resilience.

 

“We’ve gone a reaaaaally long way since then,” Viv muttered.

 

“And you have kept your promise,” Irao said from behind her.

 

“That too.”

 

That was the last bit of teleporter fun, however. After that, they were trudging through wild, revenant-infested lands with Viv flying ahead to set up teleporters. Even with those, it soon grew too tedious to cross back to camp at the end of the day.

 

Viv was on the road again. Camping near the deadlands was comfortable enough with her nice tent, but she wished she had some of those space-defying pocket planes with spas, easily accessible by phone booth or whatever worked, really. After thinking that, Viv chuckled at her own entitlement. The planet was already allowing her to bend space around for convenient travel and she was whining about the luggage.

 

“How easily one grows accustomed to convenience.”

 

***

 

Days turned to weeks and the expedition continued, regularly resupplied with fresh goods thanks to quick trips back. Harrak really was huge. Even with breaks, the travelers soon grew weary of the same desolate mountain flank overlooking a dead world extending to the horizon. There were variations, of course. As they went farther north, the mana concentration became so high Viv had to lead them up higher into the mountains or risk poisoning. Even with Arthur keeping the skies clear, regular revenants still required constant surveillance and regular battles. It was after one such battle that Viv approached Marruk.

 

“Anybody wounded?” she asked the stout Kark woman.

 

Marruk merely shook her head. Her Imperial was excellent now, but that didn’t make her any more talkative.

 

“Good steel, and you kill the more dangerous foes. We are doing well.”

 

She sighed. Heavily.

 

“We have drifted apart,” Viv said, suddenly apologetic. “With everything I just… haven’t talked to you as much as I should have.”

 

“It is life,” Marruk replied with a kind tone. “You needed a bodyguard and I needed a guide. Now you do not, and my people need a guide.”

 

She shrugged.

 

“You have kept your word. I can… hardly believe we are finally doing it.”

 

“Going to war?”

 

“Going home. There is always war. Everywhere.”

 

She sighed again. Viv sat next to her on a rock while her soldiers made themselves scarce. Marrul pulled a stained handkerchief from a recess of her armor, then cleaned gore and dust from her gear with patience and great care.