“So they killed a sizeable army, and quickly. Is that all that’s here?”

“Yes sir, that and the video. The only reason we got this much is because he allowed it though, and that’s with a liaison on the inside that he also signed off on.”

“Mm. 50 thousand in just 4 hours. They slaughtered them all and then made it back in time for dinner.”

“Indeed. Short of a Sovereign entering a battlefield uncontested, that speed with that amount of troops is a historical record.”

General Valdemar took one more glance at the sparse report, just two pages long with only a single paragraph of real intel and an Orb with a video on it. 

He was a large man, but far from a knight. His body bristled with Psyka, giving away his Authority 10 power. It was almost as domineering as his sharp face, formed beard with strands of gray, and whitening hair. 

He currently wore a clean dress uniform, only the few pins on his collar and insignia on his shirt giving away his rank. 

He was a Sovereign, the insignia picturing a hand with a knife through it, blood dripping from the wound. 

Beside the insignia were the colors of the Templars as well as the Order, and his chest adorned a small medallion granted by the Pope himself, known as the Icon of Victory, a medallion that stated to all who gazed upon it that the man wearing it had led the Church’s military as a whole on a victorious campaign against the Scourge, bringing the utmost glory and honor to God. There was no higher honor that existed, only five others throughout history having been granted that medallion, all of them deceased. 

He was the sixth, and there were none considered his strategic equal. Such standing was so great that he was granted the rank of Sovereign, his words on war only capable of being swayed by multiple other Sovereigns or the Pope himself. 

There was extremely little that this man hadn’t seen. He had borne witness to the worst of the terror that the Scourge could bring at the Pillars of Creation, and had seen the highest heights of glory after leading a battle against some of the largest Scourge armies in the world and coordinating the downfall of a King. 

He thought he had seen it all, and yet no amount of imagination could’ve prepared him for what he saw on that Orb.

He sighed and looked at the projector, tapping it and watching the video through once more. 

It was an aerial overview of the battle between 1st Brigade and the Scourge, during its most heated moments. It showed every reality of what was faced, from mistakes and the occasional close calls to the harrowing devastation those Superheavy Tanks wrought. 

There were even added visuals that detailed the effect of artillery and air support. Thousands of shells had arced from miles away, beyond visual range, to land amidst the hordes of monsters in front of the battle lines. Planes and helicopters swooped down and made strafing runs, delivering explosive payloads known as missiles and bombs, their turrets firing at unbelievable speeds for short bursts. 

Around the tanks, vehicles, helicopters, and even some clusters of troops, magic shields flared with life as poisonous and elemental spellfire collided with them. Sometimes the shields would fail, at least detonating the spell. Anything else that slipped through simply exploded on the metal armor of the tanks and left behind remnant discoloration, not even pockmarks on the armor. 

Obscene defensive power, unbelievable offensive power, all with mobility that could adjust battle lines in seconds, and operated by with the intelligence of summoners. 

General Valdemar remembered one of the papers he had read as he combed his beard with his fingers, written by John Cooper regarding the usage of his weapons on the battlefield. 

The reigning concept behind the battle in that video was Asymmetrical Mechanized Warfare. It was a kind of battle where mechanized units utilized the quantity of armament and quality of armor to completely outclass the enemy in every fashion imaginable. A type of lopsided and unequal warfare of sheer domination. 

It was utterly oppressive. The Scourge may have swarmed a few tanks, but they escaped with mere scratches. There were other layers of armor and troops ready to support, eager to dump spellfire on their tanks to clear them of monsters. It was, in fact, a part of their doctrine according to some of the manuals Valdemar had read. 

He could barely believe any of it. He had gotten video footage of far smaller battles before from the Glass Desert. None of them looked like this. 

He thought he had seen everything this life had to offer. This video was such a revelation that it was almost painful. 

The number of troops, the number of souls that he could’ve saved with this technology. The number of monsters he could’ve eradicated. The number of villages and cities he could’ve protected. 

Perhaps, if the Pillars of Creation had access to that tech, they could’ve held their own against the Scourge instead of becoming the corrupted graveyard it was today. 

With a sigh, he shut down the video, clenching his fist a few times to calm down. 

His aide, a man called General Jori, asked after a bout of silence. 

“What do you think?”

“…It was wasteful.”

Valdemar gave his evaluation after some thought, Jori tilting his head. 

“Wasteful how?”

“The expenditure against the amount of Scourge killed. They went overboard. They could’ve easily won the battle using half the amount of ordnance. At least, that is if the specifications in all of the designs and manuals we’ve been given are true.”

“Do you think John Cooper knows that?”

“If he’s as smart as he’s supposed to be, then absolutely. And he probably isn’t happy about it. It’s not just wasted power. It’s wasted money and materials. Each one of those bombs and shells takes an entire industry to build. It’s clear that their use efficiency is still low, despite having achieved something great.”

“I see. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It won’t matter though.”

Valdemar stood, walking over to a nearby stand that held a suit of armor. 

It was a standard issue suit of armor for knights of the Iron Legion, the most heavily fortified piece of personal equipment in the standard issue lineup. While those made for warlocks and summoners were similar in design, they didn’t have the same reinforcement. 

His hand brushed over some of the cold hard steel, feeling the segments, currently separated from each other until the mechanism to enclose it was activated, sealing it around the wearer. 

It looked like a mastercraft. Precision lines that could fit together seamlessly, with uniformity that would take a team of the most skilled enchanters and designers to manufacture. 

And yet John Cooper had made thousands of these, all effectively identical. It was impossible for anyone else to do, let alone in just a few scant months while a myriad of other heavy vehicles and gadgets were flowing out en masse. 

Despite having access to all of the knowledge that John Cooper used to do this, Valdemar could hardly fathom actually pulling it off. As he stood there admiring the piece of armor, he thought about how the several dozen teams of enchanters, businessmen, and designers were all working toward implementing John’s industrial technology within the Holy See. They were beginning to roll out vehicles, armor, and devices of their own, already equipping thousands of soldiers with items that would normally only be given to the most elite soldiers in the Order. 

It was demanding that he educate himself on all of the changes to warfare these things would entail. But he had willingly shoved his nose in dozens of books and manuals, soaking up every ounce of information. 

All despite his pride telling him that he shouldn’t bother. He knew that every one of those books and almost all the pieces of technology came from just one man, no older than 30, a fraction of his age. The reports had talked about his cunning, as well as his arrogant, unyielding, and bold personality. 

He was learning from a child. He could admit that he hadn’t been soaking things up as fast as he could, hadn’t fully applied himself, focusing on simply managing the redistribution of troops around the Holy See and its battle fronts. 

But after seeing that video, standing before the suit of armor, the first set of that armor that had been manufactured from their own facilities according to the specifications given to them, he finally swallowed his pride. 

The wasted expenditure in the battle he saw wouldn’t matter because the scale John Cooper’s industry could rise to would simply outproduce it, and in time, those generals would learn, as most summoners did. They would get better, would be better equipped, and the Scourge would fall to their weapons.

His fingers traced a corner of the visor on the helmet, feeling one of the corners that was almost sharp in angle. 

His aide muttered. 

“We’ve seen many Versals before. Why is this one so…”

“Overbearing?”

“For lack of looking like I’m licking his boots in praise. He’s certainly far from any others, whether they came from the Pillars or not. He’s changed the entire world in just a few years. None of the others did anything close to that, even if they were overwhelmingly talented and powerful.”

“He sees things from a different perspective. He understands that just killing a King or two won’t solve the problem as a whole. The Kings are powerful precisely because they pose every kind of threat. Their troops are present in such numbers that ignoring them to kill the Kings is impossible, and yet defeating the armies is impossible because they advance with the support of those Kings. The foundations that they’ve built make them impossible to destroy with anything other than equally overwhelming power, something we’ve lacked for many years now. So… perhaps God graced us with the answer. Not the strongest knight, not a disastrous warlock, not even a prodigious martial artist riddled with Invocations. Just a scholar, with knowledge we couldn’t seem to fathom until it was right in front of us.”

“…And now we wonder why we hadn’t ever thought of it.”

Valdemar nodded, he and Jori staring at the armor for a minute longer before suddenly hearing a knock. 

Valdemar turned and walked back to his desk, composing himself, Jori moving to open the door. 

He nodded to the three people at the entrance, moving aside and allowing them to step past him, closing the door behind them. 

He then frowned when one of the three spoke with a demanding tone. 

“Papa, send me over there.”

“Katta…”

“I’ve made my decision. Send. Me. Over. There.”

Jori sighed a bit, as did Valdemar, his eyes drifting over to the girl who had appeared from behind the two others. 

She was far smaller than her father, an entire foot shorter than his 6 foot 6 inch stature. Her body was lithe, shorts exposing taut legs partially covered in bandages and blood. Her arms were the same, a few scars from both lacerations and burns over the skin uncovered by more dirtied white bandages. 

Jori knew that her tight shirt hid even more damage, despite all the medical care she had received through the years. 

She was quite recognizable. She had heterochromatic eyes, one sky blue like her father’s, and one bright red. Her hair was similarly divided between two colors, the primary of which was black, the secondary being large groupings of white resembling aged hair rather than naturally white hair. 

She hadn’t been born with that white hair. It had come with the few dozen traumatic experiences she had put herself through over the years. 

However, her most notable trait wasn’t anything cosmetic. Quite the opposite. 

She had no power to speak of. She wasn’t a Magus. The only cosmetic giveaway was the lack of a Crest on her hand. What was there, in its place, was a series of partially faded scars carved there by her own hand. 

From her time as a 2 year old. 

And yet despite her having no power, Jori felt his hair stand on end when she walked by him, doing his best to hide his intimidation, a task getting more difficult by the year. 

She moved and planted her palms on her father’s desk. The man behind it pinched the bridge of his nose as she reiterated. 

“Send me to Iron Legion. I want to fight there.”

“That army isn’t conventional, Katta. The troops don’t even fight in the normal sense. They man turrets and operate machines.”

“Good thing I won’t be a grunt then. Uncle Andy said he’d talk to John Cooper. But you still need to say yes.”

“And since you obviously intend to fight, where will you source your serums from?”

“I have a stockpile that I’ll bring, and I can have John Cooper make more.”

Valdemar frowned.

“You mean, give him the recipes and technology to do so?”

“My recipes and my tech, and I’m fine with it. I doubt he’ll make me pay but even if he does I can cover it.”

“And you think he has a healer that can tend to you every time you need it? Hallowlight won’t be anywhere nearby.”

“I don’t even go to Aunt Hallow much anymore, and I know my limits. Why can’t you just let me go there? It’s not like I can’t just come back if I want.”

“Because you won’t be able to just come back. We can’t even get eyes on his troops and you think he’ll just let someone leave whenever they want?”

“If it’s me, yes.”

“Lord help me…”

Valdemar openly sighed again, Jori taking a seat and leaning back. He did not envy his General.

Katta was as terrifying as her grandmother, the legendary Madam Tracie, maiden named Korpela, pioneer of Crown technology, and mother of Valdemar Korpela. Although everyone had initially thought that Katta had been somehow cursed since she had been so unlucky as to not be born with a Crest, her many toils in reflection of her grandmother made her a force to be reckoned with, especially after operations at the Pillars of Creation yielded the most advanced Invocation tech that existed. 

Unfortunately to everyone’s great dismay, she didn’t simply utilize any preexisting technology and went off the rails. That her grandmother’s lunacy still existed somewhere in their genes came as an even greater shock. 

After wiping his face for a few seconds, Valdemar suddenly looked up, everyone turning to the door right before there was a knock. 

Jori got up and opened it, revealing a new face. Katta smiled in expectation, Valdemar not missing it and instantly guessing what was going to happen. 

“Excuse my intrusion, sir.”

“It’s alright, Aki. Come in.”

Aki took her step in, greeting the others around her before walking over, a wry smile on display when she greeted Katta. 

“Hi Aki!”

“Hi Katta. Can I speak to General Valdemar for a moment?”

“Of course! Maybe hearing it from anyone other than his stubborn daughter will make him feel better.”

Katta flicked her hair and sauntered out, her foot skillfully pulling the door closed behind her with a louder than normal slam. 

Aki sighed and turned to Valdemar.

“Sir.”

“You want to go to the Glass Desert as well?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I know Katta has been talking to anyone she can to get herself over there. I just didn’t think you had any interest in military matters anymore. Not since we pulled you out of the Pillars.”

“I didn’t. But after seeing what John has done… I think it’s simply appropriate to say I’ve had a change of heart. Perhaps I’ve even been inspired. Those weapons of his give me hope.”

“Hm. Well, you’ve helped us plenty with Invocation technology. I have no objections, but if you’re doing it because of Katta…”

Valdemar eyed Aki, who remained unperturbed.

“I will admit that she spoke to me about it. But in a way I agree with her assumptions about John. He’s a nice man, even if infamous. Based on my admittedly limited interactions with him and knowledge of where he came from, I can say with relative certainty that he’s honorable enough to take care of Katta. And with me there, I can at least keep you informed.”

“…I want to believe you, but I don’t know if you could even do that. Nothing gets in or out of that base without him knowing about it. There’s an information lockdown and we’re not entirely sure how he even manages it. We have a feeling that he’s doing something with his Aerials but we can’t confirm anything since we don’t have anybody who can crack the Aerial ‘software’ as he calls it, the one piece of technology that he has yet to share with us. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

Aki opened her mouth, but quickly held her tongue, a thousand thoughts flickering through her mind and forming a quick decision. 

“No, sir. I’m certainly no enchanter, as similar as some people like to say Invocations are. I certainly couldn’t hope to understand something as complex as that.”

“Hm…”

He grunted, looking down at his desk. 

She spoke again. 

“I don’t think you have so much to worry about, sir. You may not be able to trust John personally, but I’m sure you can at least trust in his motivations. After losing so much at both the Magisterium and the Treehouse, and after taking it upon himself to build his own army, I’m sure he’s not keen on taking great risks and earning the ire of the Church.”

“You think he didn’t take a great risk by forming that army of his?”

“Is it as great a risk as remaining under the command of the Kingdom?”

“…”

Valdemar didn’t respond, realizing that the argument was redundant. 

Eventually he sighed and waved. 

“Fine. Take Katta with you, but please watch over her. I will give you a special Aerial of our own design that you can contact me with. I will want regular updates.”

“Very well, sir. Don’t forget that we’ll also have these two with us.”

Aki turned around to face the other two individuals that had walked in with Katta. 

Both of them were dressed in long black trench coats, slimmed to their lean bodies. On their heads were conical straw hats, ones that seemed to cover half their faces. The parts of their faces that were visible were covered by a black mask. 

One of them simply wore the black attire with nothing more than a sheathed knife on the small of his back and a sheathed sword in his left hand, both of his hands covered by black gloves. The other had no visible weapons, but his hands were tucked in two pockets. On the right half of his body, over his shoulder, was a draped black cloth with lines of white ink brush writing that Valdemar didn’t understand. 

A Versal language. 

The two were known as Song and Kwon. Not even Aki knew their full names, but could easily guess they were Korean. They were considered twins but, once again, nobody knew if they really were. Their words were extremely sparse. The one known as Song, wearing the black sash, never spoke at all. Only Kwon did, if necessary. 

From what Aki knew, they hadn’t come from the Pillars, nor the Kingdom. Aki knew there had been a mysterious nation somewhere beyond the Pillars, on the same continent in a distant place. But that place had to have been destroyed well before the Pillars were, and if they were from there, she couldn’t imagine how long they had been in this world. 

Or perhaps they were lying about their origins. All they knew was that they had come to the Church after spending time in the employ of Vatsy. Why they left him, they didn’t know. 

Details were scarce. What wasn’t in doubt, however, was their power. 

Valdemar knew they were incredibly skilled, the two of them capable of felling a normal Authority 11 Royal. Their cumulative power was greater than the sum of its parts.

“Yes, I suppose they will be with you. All of you should watch over each other. Learn the way Iron Legion fights. It’s different from how we do battle here. In some ways it’s safer. In others, especially for those that battle personally, not so much.”

“There will be danger no matter where we go, sir.”

Aki gave a reassuring smile. 

“But I doubt anything will be quite as dangerous for Katta as what she’s done to herself.”

“Hm… You all will leave in one week. Be thoroughly prepared. You may not return for a long time.”

“Yes sir.”

Aki nodded, as did Kwon. Then the three left the room. 

The twins continued walking even as Aki turned to Katta, standing outside the room. She was leaning against the wall, staring at the opposite side with a blank face. 

It was a few seconds before Katta finally turned to her with a wide smile. 

“Thanks.”

“Mm. But your father isn’t wrong either. He’s just worried. You’ve only ever fought with the Order.”

“And they’re so boring that each fight is hardly that.”

“Boring is good in that line of business.”

“You sound like Aunt Hallow. When do we leave?”

Aki let out a small breath and shrugged.

“A week.”

“Hm. Should be enough time to process my stockpile. In the meantime, how about we go try out some of the new brews the Hyberia came out with! I haven’t tried them yet.”

“You just want to get drunk on their wine again…”

“That’s a bonus. Come on!”

“Ahh…”

Aki let out a soft cry, getting dragged by Katta. 

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep