Chapter 402: ARC 6-Winter War-96

Tomorrow is the fated day. In the morning, when the permanently cloudy sky brightens from black to the light gray, thousands of Victory’s knights and hundreds of hunters will march through the north gate. Their purpose, to conquer everything their eyes can see. Failing that, slaying a lot of monsters and claiming a little slice of land as their own. Something no one has managed in close to five hundred years. That hasn’t dampened their zeal for the cause.

Most people find it difficult to continue something they fail at horribly once. The people of the north have gotten their asses handed to them neatly hundreds of times over and still go back for more. It is as insane as it is admirable.

A part of me regrets that I have to sincerely wish for their failure. The poor knights of the north have no idea that completing their quest will re-ignite a horrific war that will engulf the kingdom. Until I know the extent of the threat the forces beyond the mountains pose, I cannot allow Victory to succeed. Even if it means I have to sabotage them from the inside.

Again, the thoughts feel…scummy. Especially while standing before the forces we, or really Alana, will be leading.

We originally decided on a hundred hunters. Large enough to protect themselves from the northern hordes, small enough to be easily managed. After reading my ancestor’s journal, our original plan to be the first to establish an outpost in the north has to be put aside. Now, we will pad our reputations the traditional way, through blood. We’re going to spill a lot of it. Better, we’re going to make sure the hunters spill a lot of it, earn plenty of crowns, and go home singing our praises without a single casualty. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, nothing ever goes according to plan. Our original hundred has grown to a whopping three hundred.

How? Simple. Scheming from the many factions within the fort. As much as they like to pretend they are a separate species, the people of the north are still people. They are still power hungry and dastardly in their attempts to seize more of it. They are still petty and ruthless in the pursuit of revenge. They are still desperately searching for love.

All three motives are present this time, and maybe a few more I’m unaware of. The first group that joined were sent by, of all people, Alana’s father, as her escort.

At first, I thought it was the same as every other dismissive act committed by her family but this is a real tradition. Every James child is given an honor guard on their first campaign. They are not there to fight, merely to advise and report back to the duke on the heir’s ability. In the worse case, they’ll save an heir who’s about to die but Alana says it’s such an embarrassment, most James would rather die than suffer such dishonor. When I asked her if she felt the same, she wouldn’t meet my eyes when she said no.

I really hate this place.

This is the smallest addition to our forces at only five. Standing in front of the one hundred hunters in ten columns of ten are five lady knights from the Waning Stars, the female counterpart to the Order of the Bleak Moon. Unexpected additions but they didn’t seem like they would be a problem. They might even be helpful.

I don’t know if the same can be said for the next group. They certainly have the potential to be useful. In fact, I’m sure the group of one hundred and fifty knights from the Bleak Moons outclass the hunters beside them by several magnitudes. The question is, are they here to be useful? I really hope they are because we can’t get rid of them without causing trouble, apparently.

The large group of knights is a “gift” from a certain rabbit. Yulia supposedly convinced her husband, this Devil character, to send his men to bolster Alana’s forces. Her official reasoning is that she doesn’t trust the hunters not to drag her into trouble, which was the best thing she could have said to get her way.

She didn’t insult Alana’s ability and made herself out to be a model big sister. Beyond that, it’s a good gift. The problem is, I don’t know whether Yulia did it to attach her husband to our success and make herself look better or because she’s genuinely worried for her sister.

In a rare turn of events, not even my succubi are able to shed light on the subject. I hate wanton reading of minds but sending an armed force as a “gift” is enough to trump my hesitance to abuse the power of my elementals. They both tell me the strongest emotion motivating Yulia is concern, proving she does care about what happens to Alana, but just because that is a strong motivator, doesn’t mean she isn’t also plotting. It’s too suspicious that her concern always seems to benefit her in some way.

They couldn’t tell me anything more without using an intrusive spell, which is something I don’t want to risk. Alana tells me that since there are creatures beyond the mountain that can enthrall fighters, mental affinity artifacts are more common in the north than anywhere else. Not worth the risk.

The most unexpected group we got saddled with is the acolytes. I’m still not sure how. The usual method is to break them up into small groups and distribute them amongst the different armies. About five acolytes were assigned to every fifty soldiers. Spread the burden out so it’s less noticeable.

This year, there appears to be some grand strategy in the works. Something that they don’t want outsiders to even know about, let alone have the opportunity to ruin. Experienced hunters are barely tolerable but bumbling children with only two or three spells under their belts? No.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Zach or his mother who screwed us, but the friendly barbarian, Kalise. Or, not so friendly. She’s been a little hostile since Kierra cut her off from the good stuff. I don’t know what she wants stringing that woman along like she is but we had to pay a small price.

It didn’t take but a moment for the mother-son duo to support the proposition. Yulia stayed silent. Alana gave it a decent effort but the duke came down on their side. And so, we are stuck with twenty-seven acolytes.

The last of the numbers are made of representatives from the other knight orders. All six that inhabit the village outside Victory. Alana’s reasoning was that since she’d been saddled with more bodies than she originally intended, she might as well bring on two or three dozen more to pad her reputation.

They make quite the sight, lined up together. Very colorful. As I’m not in charge of this show, I’m free to sweep my eyes over the assembled fighters and gawk at my leisure. Bell seems disinterested, four eyes hooded as she lounges in my arms. Kierra is much the same, leaning against me while laying her cheek on my head. I imagine we don’t strike impressive figures at the moment. Thankfully, our reputations are strong enough that we can afford a sloppy public appearance or two.

Alana, as the official commander of this lot, is taking the meeting much more seriously. She cuts quite the dashing figure in her dark blue armor and matching cape lined with white fur. A silver helm in the shape of a wolf’s head is held under one arm and her usual sword hangs at her waist. Her short blonde hair is held in place by a silver clip in the shape of a bird with its wings spread wide and a pair of black gloves hangs from a new belt with several pouches.

All gifts from her family. Rather than well-deserved acknowledgement, I see it more as physical manifestations of their high expectations. She was happy to receive them anyway so I held back my opinion.

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Beside her is Geneva. The don in the guise of a thrall looks a little out of place in her simple white dress but thankfully, she has quite the reputation too. I heard a few mutterings as we took our places in front of the crowd. Seems she takes after my wife when it comes to training and tests. The hell she put them through means the hunters wouldn’t look down on her even if she came in nothing but her unmentionables and did handstands.

I settle my curiosity as Alana takes a deep breath, preparing to speak.

“The ancestors watch over us,” she says, an invisible Rolly amplifying her voice. “Long ago, when this fort was founded, they swore an oath. No matter how long it took, no matter how many need give their lives, we will conquer the north.”

The knights give a short cry of approval, startling the hunters and acolytes, a few of which shake their heads and mutter about crazy northerners. I focus on trying to keep my expression neutral. I suppose conquering the north isn’t entirely off the table but it certainly isn’t as simple as these people are imagining.

“This will be my first campaign. My first time fighting the monstrous hordes. I am not too ambitious. I won’t make any grand promises to take the heads of the Lords of Winter. There is only one goal for myself and my warriors. Kill!

“Tomorrow, we will go beyond those mountains and we will kill every monster that crosses our path. We’ll kill them until we reek so deeply of their kin’s blood, none dare approach us. Then we’ll track them to their nests and their dens and we’ll kill more. We don’t stop until we’ve spilled enough blood to drench every fighter here from head to toe and collect enough gold to send everyone back with heavy pockets!”

This time, the hunters cheer, their voices merging with the war cry of the knights. They also drag on and Alana raises her hand for silence. Undisciplined as they are, they don’t recognize the silent command. It takes a sharp, piercing whistle from Rolly to cut through the noise and focus them.

“Orders have been given to your respective leaders. Our strategy is simple but that doesn’t excuse complacency. We have many advantages, including two powerful healers. That isn’t enough to save idiots. I won’t waste my time trying. And if you endanger my people doing stupid things like disobeying orders or going off on your own, you better hope the monsters kill you cause if they don’t, I’m handing you over to the elf. If you don’t know why you should be horrified by that fate, ask around.

“This is your last chance for preparations. Make sure your blades are sharp and your armor fits well. We will be bringing supplies but it always makes sense to pack your own. It’s cold. A sleeping roll might not be enough. Talk to your seniors if you don’t know the kinds of beasts we’ll be facing. And, most importantly, write your dying words. No one thinks they’ll be the unlucky bastard who gets buried beneath the snow. It’ll be too late for regrets then.”

What a terrible note to end a speech on. The hunters and acolytes certainly think so, unnerved by the ending to what should have been a rousing speech. It’s perfect for Victory as the knights give the loudest war cry so far before dispersing. I hurry to follow Alana, slipping out of Kierra’s arms. The elf doesn’t even stumble as she sleepily trails behind us.

“That was pretty good. I think I might have fallen for you again.”

Alana gives me a quick glance before turning away, face a little pink. It could just be the cold but I’ll take the win anyway. “You think? I didn’t look nervous?”

“Not at all.” Maybe a little grim but certainly not nervous.

She lets out a little breath of relief. “Good. I didn’t want to bother but it’s tradition. It’s not like I told them anything they didn’t know.”

“Weird tradition.”

“Ah, well. Apparently, because the commanders of the previous campaigns died so often, an army could march without knowing the face of their commander. Therefore, before anyone takes command of a group, they have to make a speech, so the knights recognize who’s in charge.”

Wow. That’s dark. “That’s, uh, practical?”

She huffs out a little laugh. “Are you ready for tonight?”

Another tradition. Before any campaign, a large feast is held throughout the fort. A night of good eating and fun memories to prepare them for the nightmare ahead. The commanders of the different armies are invited to the James estate to dine with the duke himself. It’s an informal dinner but these things always come with some pomp. It’ll certainly be interesting having so many people at one table.

“Mm. I don’t have to do anything but eat my fill.”

“Exactly. They’ll try to bait you into boasting. Making difficult promises. Our position is unassailable. The only way we can take damage is if we sabotage ourselves.” After a moment of hesitation, she grabs my hand. “Just try to have fun. It’s our last night. Things get difficult from here, even for us.”

“Don’t go getting her hopes up.” I point a finger at the bored elf, pushed to the limits of her patience. I have to commend her for not running off already. She really does try to fight her nature, the lovable woman. No one has perfect control all the time but she tries.

“Trust me, Lou. At the risk of cursing our comrades, if the north doesn’t give the two of you a challenge, she won’t be the only one who’s disappointed.”

 

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