NOVEL NEXT V11: Chapter 4
V11: Chapter 4
…
Arming, clothing, and feeding 80,000 soldiers from the first round of drafts was a test of my nation's logistical might.
On paper, we could do it, and I trusted the people who reported the numbers and came up with the plans. I did my best to vet my scholars, planners, and everyone involved in governance, while also policing them with Iterants to verify. Having a police force of shapeshifting constructs that don't need to eat or sleep and are happy with their current station… is very helpful at keeping everything spick and span in my bureaucracy.
Theoretically, right at this very moment, we could draft ten times the initial round-up, put them in the field, and have a glorious time rolling over the continent within a year. Then, within a year, we won't be able to supply them. And they wouldn't have gotten very far, since we didn't have enough cargo capacity to get them anywhere. If they were just fighting on home territory, close to all our stockpiles and industry, and didn't have to move, such a massive mobilization effort would be fine.
But I wanted a mobile force supported by aerial cavalry, mages, heavy troops, and artillery.
A regular infantry grunt with a rifle needs boots, fatigues, a pack full of rations and useful tools, and a rifle. That grunt needs several weeks of training, where he needs to be supplied shelter and food while he's taught by several instructors. Time on the range requires ammunition. The grunt will need to be inoculated against diseases, as well as given all-around physical enhancements. After all that training, if the grunt needs to go somewhere, transportation will need to be arranged for him and all his buddies.
Before a grunt with a regular rifle fires a single shot, he's already taken up more resources than one person could produce in a year. He needs a wage, he needs food, and he needs time invested into him by qualified people. Those qualified people will also need wages and food, and time will be spent quantifying what they've done and properly reporting it. The person counting the beans and checking the reports will also need wages, food, and some sort of support to get what they produce to me.
I see '1000 recruits successfully passed the first quarter of training,' but it's a massive logistical chain. Everything is only possible due to the work of millions of people being harnessed and put towards the manufacturing of an army. That's without even considering the fact that once we're invested… there's no selling off the factories, recouping losses, and making new ones in an instant.
What we make now, what we commit to now, is what we'll have in excess for the vast majority of our troops for the next decade or two.
So, yeah.
I want a test run of everything before amplifying everything up an order of magnitude.
…
Conquerors made for fine trainers and field officers. Their honor and nobility got in the way if they were any higher than a captain, but they preferred to be on the field, so that was no issue. More importantly, though, they stuck around, gained experience, didn't oppose change unless it was a mistake, and saw training new groups of troops as an honor.
Basically, most of the trainers for my new batch of soldiers were current special forces on easy assignments until they got shipped off to the front again.
They were putting the new soldiers through the wringer.
Even freshly enhanced to be tougher, faster, and more agile, most of the soldiers were hitting their limits.
But what mattered was that after hitting their limits, they could get back up and return to training within half an hour.
"Descendants respond the best to the treatments left behind by the Ancients." Crusher noted. We were walking through the new training camp. There was one in each region now and near a town with a new rail-line connection to the Citadel. It was a pain to move tens of thousands of people into the camps, but once they were there, I didn't have to worry. Supplies flowed in, and soldiers came out. Or, they would in a few weeks. "Is it favoritism for those closest to their bloodline?"
"It's more likely that descendants have less than everyone else, so their improvements are more pronounced in comparison." I answered Crusher. We both had guards keeping distance. Well, Ayah was holding an umbrella and keeping me cool. Crusher had rolled his eyes at the suggestion. He got older every time I saw him. His face sported a few wrinkles, and he looked smaller than ever. His bicep was only the size of my leg, instead of my waist. "And who are you to talk? The Conquerors are the strongest that they've ever been. Your people are reaching their prime."
"With gifts. Not time and effort." Crusher shook his head. He turned his gaze towards some of the Conquerors on their training track that went around the whole base. The average Conqueror was already a supersoldier by any mortal metric. But they were meant to be more, and they reached their true strength with what was left behind by the Ancients. "They will need to be trained hard. The time you have given us is too short."
"We have too little time as we speak. You've read the reports." Crusher grunted and nodded. I could feel a few eyes on us. Did I feel a bit bad walking with a maid holding an umbrella next to me in the desert region, while everyone else was running their asses off? Yeah, but not bad enough to ask Ayah to stop. "They'll be sent to the academy's former lands to be blooded, but we have far more to defend than our contemporaries."
"You can call upon us. The Conquerors are ready." Crusher pointed out, but I shook my head. A low rumble left his lips. "We have fought well. There are many of us. Can you not entrust us with defending our homeland?"
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"I need the Conquerors for assaults. Not defense. Grow your population, train well, and be ready for mass mobilization in five or so more years. When the time comes, the Conquerors will be the lance we use to end this threat." With nukes off the table, my plan was to use ridiculous amounts of super soldiers, biological warfare, and chemical warfare to kill our enemies. While a sea of radioactive cobalt would secure our surroundings, I was wary of threats from above. I hadn't heard of any new crisis before I died, but the only vector left for us to get hit was above. Presuming, of course, that the Academy summoned demons by accident and that was how that first crisis was supposed to pop. "For now, the line needs to be held. Their teeth and claws need to be broken. When the beasts go back to lick their wounds, the Conquerors will break them long enough for us to rest, rearm, and prepare the coming generation for victory."
Crusher looked down at me with wide eyes, then he gestured all around us.
I know what he meant.
To everyone else, the four new camps and the eighty thousand people I'm training up seem immense.
How could all this and a Conqueror counterattack mean that we'd just be buying time for the youth of today to reach the age of majority?
I stopped walking, and with the massive camp stretching behind me, I told Conquest the truth.
Or, as close to the truth as I could tell him.
"There are fearsome, terrible weapons from the times of the Ancients. They were revealed to me as I accessed the Citadel's records. Weapons of mass destruction that create miniature suns for a brief instant on the surface of the planet. These weapons would allow us to win the battle here… but they came with a warning." I pointed upward towards the sky. There was no warning, and there were no records. When I said I was going off to study ancient manuals, I just ate my fill of food and relaxed while reading up on recent literature. Well, sometimes, I consulted my notes since I didn't want to forget anything. One of the most important things to not forget was that using nukes would get us invaded by what remained of the Ancients' foes up in space. Could those be the fifth crisis? I didn't want to find out. "A warning that amongst the stars are the remains of the Ancient's foes. Those who isolated this star, who provided weapons and power to the ancestors of our current foes, and sought to destroy us. I believe that they remain, especially as none of the Ancient's allies or long-lost cousins have come to our aid since the fall."
Crusher's mouth opened and closed at my words.
His eyes were wide, and behind me I heard the sound of fabric ripping.
I glanced at Ayah and noticed that her free hand, gloved, was clenched into such a tight fist that her glove ripped.
Guess she didn't realize that was a possibility.
Anyway, I turned and began to walk again.
"The war we face to take this planet must be completed by our own hands. Nothing that can be noticed by our possible foes must be used. The world we create after this war will be one that must tread carefully in a dark forest filled with unknown threats." Crusher nodded slowly at my words and followed, while I did my best to relay my game knowledge to him in a believable manner. "So, while we can call upon all our people and surge across the world with great success, that will deplete us as a nation. It will take decades that we may not have to recover from it. So, now, we must be cautious, we must be cunning, and we must slowly, carefully kill our current enemies without being noticed by a greater foe."
Crusher's lack of response to my words was something that I was grateful for.
I wasn't sure how far I'd be able to go without literally saying I just knew that it was going to happen.
Hopefully, I had enough of a reputation for being right that they wouldn't ask any questions.
…
Interlude: Conquest
…
Eminent may have shattered the ambitions of the Forgers and Merchants in the lands formerly held by the Wardens, but there was still work that needed to be done.
Work that could not be completed by lumbering masses of animated bone.
Brigands were aplenty in the Academy lands once held by the Wardens. They were of many different peoples and purposes. Some sought to keep their lands against all odds. Others fought for scrap and anything precious like scavengers. Many were bands of soldiers who abandoned their cause and now fought for a way out.
Eminent's creatures were powerful and capable of shattering armies.
But the bands of armed mortals roaming the lands needed to be dealt with by a finer hand.
But not by those with experience and time, like my regular troops.
They were a fine challenge for those to be blooded.
Or so I thought.
"They new bloods are stronger than we expected." Breaker noted by my side. After being enhanced with the gifts of the Ancient's he grew in height and width, much like many other Conquerors. He loomed over me now. A hulking mass covered in armor from head to toe capable of wielding a cannon with ease. "The training they've been given has made them used to their bodies."
"They still act like warriors instead of soldiers. Sometimes." We were watching from afar. The first batch of new blood was composed of young ones who never saw battle. Those born in the safety of the Citadel. The most violence they've seen in their lives was in the arena. Controlled and bereft of bloodshed. I expected that they would need to be worked hard, and even for some to hesitate, but they assaulted the brigand position, assured of their own strength and power. They worked together without hesitation, covering for one another or pulling one another aside, and they made quick work of the brigand camp. "But they are adequate in many respects. They will need less time to train."
"They would have been considered elites without reproach mere decades ago. Now, we merely consider them worthy of training." Breaker mentioned and I nodded at his words. Armed with the Citadel-forged large rifles and melee weapons, they would have been eminent before the rise of the Citadels. Each one of them a venerated warrior who would stand at the top of our tribe. Father would respect them, while many others would honor them. I would've wished to be amongst their ranks. Now? They were adequate recruits. "Can you imagine an army of them, captain?"
At Breaker's words, a recent message from Father came to mind.
A message that detailed what the King of Wisdom intended for our people.
The reason why there were so few of us on the battlefield, even as we grew more and more in number, was that we reacted the best to the Ancient's gifts.
We were to be the sword that will mortally wound the beast and prepare it for the executioner's strike for the next generation to land.
The thought of it made my heart race.
The glory that we were set to receive as the slayers of the Ancient's foes will overshadow the entirety of our horrible history.
The Deliverer wished for us to stand as equals with the rest of the world.
To be protectors instead of slaves.
The King of Wisdom would give that to us and more.
"I cannot see such an army, Breaker, but I do have a singular hope: that they can be made to fight with zeal and tenacity unlike any other." Give them to me, King of Wisdom. I will mold them into the finest and most powerful troops imaginable. Grant me the chance to end thousands of years of suffering with a glorious victory unlike any other. "Let the next army of Conquerors be the downfall of the Ancient's foes forevermore."