Chapter 349 - Unforeseen Consequences

Note : Chapter 350 has been written and added to the queue !

I know, I know, I've used that chapter title many times, but it's still very good and topical. Also, Half life reference and the G man is fucking awesome.

I'd also like to say that the response to the previous chapter has been amazing, which is kind of the reason for me writing two entire chapters in one day, I got really hyped up XD

Chapter 349

Ytakan Scrublands, Archduchy of Rebirth

Darthar-Asaria Trade Route

The Duke's hands were shaking, as he looked at the army, and the warmachines waiting at its core, being serviced and reloaded.

Manson Estogan, Duke of Sarth, had never felt his age as strongly as he had now. When he had demanded a grand gesture from the dungeon core, he had been concerned about his army, about his people.

Now he was terrified.

He had been skeptical of the dungeon core's claims about the Mackie, initially, before coming to deeply respect the war machine's might and mourn its loss.

He'd hoped for a replacement, truth be told. A second one would have been a great symbol of the dungeon core's support, even as the supplies diminished. He knew most had to be diverted to the Republic or stockpiled in the dungeon's fortresses, for there was nowhere else for them to go.

Instead fifteen of the towering war machines were sent forward, and returned, coated in blood, ash, and victory. Sunrise's army hadn't slowed, it hadn't stopped, it had retreated. Crystal's demonstration had been so bloody, so brutal, that the entirety of Sunrise's skirmishers had run for the main army, which itself had pulled back into a defensive position, like adventurers as monsters circled.

They'd left their dead behind. Not just the slaves, everybody. Crystal had sent an expedition to recover the corpses for resurrection, with many volunteering among the civilians, mostly guerillas and former slaves, who had seen far worse and were keen to save however many they could of those who had been ensnared in Sunrise's brands.

And those volunteers came back with tales. Tales of eviscerated carcasses of airships, gigantic monsters that had once sailed the skies. Of mountains of corpses, regulars and slaves, arranged in a circle around where the Mackies had made their stand.

By his rangers' estimates, the dungeon core had slaughtered fifteen thousand people and nine airships in three minutes, and not suffered a single casualty. Or rather, none that she had told him about. Some of the Mackies had some scars, but all appeared perfectly functional, little more than scored armor, revealing the glint of mythril under the dullness of steel and Gods knew what else her hellish, layered composite armor plating was made out of.

What could Sunrise possibly hope to do against that? They could forget about skirmishers, they could forget about vanguards or any kind of unit detached from the main force. Crystal had annihilated an entire division and a half of troops and a reinforced squadron of airships simultaneously. She'd done it with her 'mechs' standing in the middle of the enemy. Not peppering them from a distance, not running away to keep the range open, she had walked her war machines in the middle of their formation, and proceeded to kill everyone. And then, once only slaves were left, those she would rather avoid slaying, she just...walked out. Just like that.

There was having contempt for your enemy and there was utterly ignoring them while reducing them to greasy bloodstains on the ground. The Eris Empire wouldn't have been able to pull this off. They had similar war machines, true, but those were towering weapon platforms, meant to bring death from a great distance, protected by layers of infantry, airships and armored vehicles.

Crystal's Mackies just...killed. They killed, they killed and they killed, with no care for range, being swarmed or assaulted by airships. They just killed everything until there simply wasn't anything worthy of spending their ammunition on, and then they left.

He swallowed, heavily, as he finally realized what others had seen. Whatever nightmare the Republic had unleashed by forcing Crystal to fight to defend herself, there was no stopping it. And he, for one, was extremely glad he was firmly on her side. Even more so that he had gone out of his way to gain the gratitude and benevolence of the only person that had ever managed to at least direct and somewhat moderate the dungeon core's destructive fury, by swearing allegiance to Allya and making her an archduchess.

But with this...There was never going to be any doubt of who truly ruled the kingdom. How long, until Allya crowned herself queen of Asaria?

What terrified him was that she seemed utterly uninterested in doing so. Which meant she was aiming for something else. Something...bigger.

And the only other country where she held a title of nobility was the Eris Empire.

*****

"Well that was unexpected." Said Alexandra as she gazed at the battle report, sitting on her throne in the command center.

She'd expected the Mackies to perform well, but this was just...ridiculous wasn't quite the right word. Insane?

Regardless. They'd performed above and beyond her wildest expectations.

The Mackies were, after all, supposed to be glorified fire magnets, meant to be big, flashy, fearsome looking and take the hits for the tanks to do the real work.

Instead, she'd just used their amazing survivability to deck her opponents in the metaphorical mouth and send them reeling.

"This should buy us the time we need." Said Ghost, looking quite pleased. "Ah! Who says mechs can't win a fight? Take that, Curia."

Alexandra smiled.

"I think our dear director of ground armaments operated under different parameters as the present ones."

"She was still a revolting bitch."

"She was, but at least our...replacement, finally got the political capital together to kick her out." Probably with Arcadia's enthusiastic backing too.

Ghost snorted, clearly trying to hide the slight flinch at the word 'replacement'. After all, they both knew why they had to be replaced as High Admiral. And tried to avoid the subject.

"Right. Regardless, I think you've made your gesture, haven't you?"

"Oh I have. Still, better to not declare victory too quickly. How are we doing in terms of troops?"

"We have fifteen thousand infantry ready, alongside a hundred artillery pieces and three dozen of the new crusader-class spider tanks."

"Finally got the production issues sorted?"

"Yep. We're still having some trouble with the ammo feeds and the new spatial canisters for the gatling tanks, so don't expect that many of them. The new, upgraded main battle tanks should be rolling out in greater quantity however."

"Good." Alexandra smiled. "We'll be able to use them for more than harassment now."

"They'll be one hell of a support for the Mackies, that's for sure. And a worthy successor to the templar-class."

"Well, we are going on a bit of an expedition with them. The name felt fitting." After all, the templar-class had been primarily meant to be an essentially defensive weapon platform, operating in and around Rebirth. Mobile, yes, but never meant to be more than a few hundred kilometers from its primary manufacturing hub. The fact that they were operating at all, let alone so effectively, a good fraction of a continent away was an amazing feat of engineering. The wonders of having AIs to handle logistics. The fact that the northern lands had been far more forgiving than the blasted hellscape of the wasteland helped a lot too. "Alright then. We'll need to do a full debriefing once Glitch is done analyzing the battle, but it seems we're well on our way to kicking those bastards' asses."

The dungeon core grimaced, and Ghost sighed.

"You don't have a choice. The civilians are entering Myriu. Before long they'll be able to threaten the supply lines between Darthar and Sarth. Not to mention the civilians..."

"I know! I know...It's just...we didn't even resurrect half of the slaves we killed."

"Not all of them were killed by our weapons."

"Perhaps, but we sure as shit put them in a position to be killed!" Alexandra closed her eyes. "But you're right. The alternative is far worse."

"It is." Said Ghost, softly. "But it's good that you're trying to find alternatives."

"Right." Alexandra shook herself. "Alright, enough feeling sorry about myself. I want to hear about your fuel stealing ticks. I have a feeling we're going to need them."

"They're ready to be deployed. Prepare to be amazed by my glorified stealthed fuel canisters."

Alexandra rolled her eyes.

"Maybe...but once we have helium three, we're going to have a lot of options."

"We already have a fair few. But a functional starship would be nice." The Flickerlight's secondary power cores were amazing works of engineering, but they weren't good enough to generate the one gravity and up of thrust necessary to lift the ship up. Not that they wished to, but the option would be nice.

Not to mention the fact that they had all sorts of nice designs that would require helium-3 to function. Like, say, the grav tank they'd found aboard that docked shuttle on the Flickerlight. A grav tank Ghost had taken apart and scanned down almost to the molecular level, to be able to replicate via their fabricators.

Including its fusion gun.

"Indeed. Now, let's see the goods."

Ghost gave an exaggerated bow.

"Right this way, m'lady."

*****

Allya blinked as her desk's communicator chirped, and she pressed the button to accept the call.

"Milady, we have a priority communication request." Said Camille, as her head appeared above Allya's desk. The communication systems built into her office allowed her to keep in touch with, well, anyone now, thanks to Alexandra. But everything, bar the dungeon core herself, at least when she really needed to, had to go through her secretary first.

"A priority request?" That was...unusual. Most people that wanted to talk to her like that were taking great pains to make sure it was 'whenever she was available', and those that truly needed to get through to her urgently usually went by another way. Like sending a messenger to burst through her door, usually by contacting one of her subordinates via the council chamber's strategic communication systems.

...It may also be because she had a habit of straight up muting it so Pyn could have her wicked way with her and forgot to turn it back on afterwards.

"Who from?" Finally asked the archduchess, and Camille licked her lips.

"General Amelia."

Allya leaned back into her seat. Amelia Loveheart. The leader of the New Republic. It had been quite a while since she'd talked to her. Usually she -or her subordinates- went directly to Alexandra. Which made this...strange. Besides, according to her latest information, she was still sieging down the fortress city of Pavrow, as her two secondary armies moved into position to tear the Republic apart. Though, to be fair, most of that information came from the general's own people.

"Very well, put her through."

The archduchess took a second to straighten up her clothes and tidy up her desk, before smiling as an image appeared in front of her. She was starting to get used to Alexandra's holograms, to the point that the magical mirrors seemed almost primitive now.

The general looked...well, like someone who had spent the last few weeks leading a siege. She wasn't dirty per say, but definitely tired, and her armor looked like it had seen use recently.

Still, the woman stood tall and proud.

"Archduchess Nouvelle-Aurore." Said the general as she bowed deeply. "Thank you for making the time to meet with me."

Allya's eyebrow rose. Okay, so Amelia had good reason to respect and even like her. But she was the leader of the second largest army of the continent, and quite possibly soon to be the ruler of its second largest and most powerful nation as well.

"Greetings, General. Please, there is no need to thank me or for such ceremony, you are my ally after all."

Amelia visibly twitched at the word 'ally'.

"Quite." Said the General as she straightened. "Which is the reason why I have called you."

"Truly? Is there a problem with our alliance?"

Amelia just stared at her, and Allya had to stop herself from fidgeting.

"Our alliance was always a...mutual partnership." Said the general, clearly choosing her words with exquisite care. "I mean beyond the cease fire and our pact of non agression. We share intelligence. My army buys weapons and equipment from you. But...with recent events, I believe another solution is needed."

"Recent events?"

"Milady." The general met her gaze, and the archduchess shivered internally. "Allow me to be utterly frank. Today, your ally, Crystal of the Dungeon Factory, has bloodied the largest army on Arkhan without suffering a single loss, and withdrew amongst a sea of bodies and burning wreckage."

That wasn't quite what had happened, Allya knew some of the Mackies had actually taken some damage, notably in their ammunition feeds, but she didn't interrupt.

"Meanwhile," Continued the general. "My troops have been fighting with muskets, field guns and howitzers. Weapons that are, quite simply, obsolete by your...ally's standards." Amelia held up her hand, forestalling the archduchess as she opened her mouth to speak. "Please, I am not denouncing our deals as unjust. We were delivered exactly what we were promised, to the bullet. But with these weapons..." The general sighed. "My people are dying, archduchess. The soldiers under my command, yes, but the civilians...crushed under the senate's purges or enslaved with those mad brands." She met the former baroness' eyes again. "I need those new weapons. And I need your dungeon core's help. Help that I know cannot be bought with money."

There was a flicker of...something, in her eyes, and Allya froze.

She knew. Or at least, suspected. Amelia had an inkling of what they'd been doing, how they'd been positioning the Republic...she was no one's fool. She could see they were moving it into a position of depending on Rebirth for continued supplies and equipment, even if they overthrew the senate.

"Then what do you wish to buy it with?" Finally said the archduchess.

Instead of answering, the general knelt.

"Perhaps what the Republic needs is another form of rebirth, from what I had envisioned. Archduchess Allya Nouvelle-Aurore, will you...will you accept the vows of fealty, of me and my men, as soldiers of your archduchy, and of the New Republic as a vassal territory of the archduchy Rebirth?"