Chatper 255: Disgrace

“Fuck babe! That shit’s almost as hot as you!”

Umara looked to the side to see John cackle after one of her spells detonated, a massive wave of fire erupting across entire hordes of monsters and cooking them alive. 

She was a few dozen meters away from him, eyes peeking from under her Witch hat. Silently with a smile, she put up two fingers, her hands glowing with Mana-saturated veins. Then she moved the two fingers over her mouth, tongue sticking out between them. 

John’s eyebrows did a weird roll as his smile widened suggestively. She chuckled, her finger pointing like a gun and twitching when a bolt of Mana shot out, piercing through three large monsters that started running toward her. When she put it down, she spoke back. 

“You’re gonna be getting some of that heat tonight, babe.”

“Nothing like a little pain with the pleasure. Speaking of, watch this shit.”

Umara’s brow raised as he suddenly turned back to face the enemy. She tracked his gaze toward one in particular. Authority 8, brimming with Vigor, screaming at monsters around it and even killing some in wrathful outrage. 

It was fast, it was strong, lethal for someone like John to get in close quarters combat with. If it got within 10 feet of him, he’d be putting his life on the line. 

For some reason though, that was exactly what he decided to do.

He suddenly put Totenstahl away, catching the attention of everyone on the team, as well as concern from a few of them, Umara herself included. 

Then, in his hands appeared two Ka-bar Fighting Utilities. 

The Royal noticed him at that time, looking in his direction and screaming, a few squads of monsters rushing toward him. 

Umara watched him adjust the cigar in his mouth. There was one almost always there nowadays, even in battles like these. 

And he let out a long breath of smoke, so much of it coming out that it turned into a fog obscuring the entire area. 

For a moment it blocked off all her senses. Then she regained a visual, watching the monsters continue to charge John. 

Her anxiety spiked, but she refrained from simply casting a spell to wipe them out right then and there. She knew he wasn’t dumb enough to put himself in unnecessarily dangerous and stupid situations.

Probably. 

That’s when he moved, his figure lunging at the incoming monsters and his knives flashing at scarcely believable speed. John had only been tempered by Vigor, couldn’t actively use it, and yet he was looking like an actual knight. 

But she could see through that. She saw the claws of those monsters come within an inch of his body, some within an inch of his face. He weaved through their charge, his torso and arms slicing across the air and shifting the blades in his hands like they were an extension of his body, driving them through the vitals of those monsters. 

It was like there was no resistance. His knives cleaved through their hide and bone so cleanly that she thought he might secretly be capable of using vigor too. The edges of those blades shimmered in lethal, razor sharpness. 

Right, any of his summons could be enhanced by his Psyka. Normal Cold Summoners usually only had access to things like blades or other inanimate utility items. It was what made them so useless in combat. 

Because which one of those supposedly smart individuals would be psycho enough to throw themselves into a horde of monsters armed with nothing but cold blades and their wits? All the ones brave or stupid enough to do so were too dead to procreate and make another kid with the same reckless idiocy. 

Yet Umara watched as her fiance threw all manner of his intellect into question, his knives shimmering with Psyka and a wild grin plastered on his face. 

He moved through those monsters like he had gone through this a thousand times before, dodging and maneuvering with such perfect clarity and precision that she could barely believe it was possible. Such vast and powerful intellect being used in a most reckless and stupid fashion made her think that maybe all the mental processing power in the world didn’t necessarily make her fiance any brighter. 

He cut down the last one with a quick swipe of the knife, the blade lopping off its head with terrifying ease. Then the Royal charged at him, and he met it with a lunge forward. 

Umara’s anxiety spiked once more when she saw how much faster the Royal was than John. The true power of applied vigor showcased itself in its movements and yet John moved forward into its attacks like he didn’t understand that. 

What baffled her was how the Royal slashed down with an axe and hit nothing but the dirt beneath it, its decisions delayed or misguided like it was trying to miss on purpose. 

Of course, it was only off by a half second or so. The blade sailed inches away from John’s body, and he was already on the next step. 

His knife drove across the Royal’s thigh, cutting deep into its muscle but not all the way, not enough to debilitate it too much. Then he rolled as it responded with a loaded strike that made its muscles bulge in strain. 

John snaked his other knife, using his momentum to drive it up into its ribcage, ripping it out right after and moving once more, his first knife sliding across the Royal’s free wrist and slashing the tendons there. 

It screamed and flailed around, recovering its axe and swinging in a wide arc all around its body, hitting generally where John had to be. John was already jumping though, moving with shocking agility for someone so large. 

He slashed as he did so, reaching out and lacerating the Royal’s face, one of its eyes going with it. A long bloody line was left as it roared in hatred, swinging its other arm even though it couldn’t grasp with its hand. 

It missed entirely, John landing as the monster flailed with all its ridiculous strength. Yet John moved around it, two clones coming off him as he did so and disorienting it further. 

It swung, and John weaved, leaving deep slices here and there, always hitting something vital like a tendon or an organ. The Royal’s blood was gushing from wounds and yet John was almost completely clean. 

Then John took a window after one of the Royal’s wide swings to stand straight and drive his knife into its eye socket, carving out the eye with one smooth motion. 

The Royal swung back around, completely blind, screaming in ravenous hatred in an attempt to do anything about the summoner skirting around and slowly killing it. 

That’s when John suddenly erupted with his strength, driving both his knives into the arm that swung the axe, piercing it before ripping down and tearing its arm off at the elbow. 

After that he dodged its swung limp arm before using his knives to take off its leg at the knee. It dropped, using its arm to keep it from face planting, John using the opportunity to slice into that arm and twist with his knives, tearing the arm to shreds and rendering it useless. 

The Royal fell once more, no longer stable, but John gave it purchase by burying one of his knives into its neck, bringing it back up. 

Before bringing his other knife around and driving it into the same place, both knives reorienting inside its neck before being ripped to the sides. 

The Royal’s head fell, John standing there with bloody knives, hands, and arms. Smoke puffed from his cigar, halfway burnt through, a blood splatter on his face. 

Umara stared at him, Pup having come out to fight as she had stopped paying attention to a battle already won. 

She bit her lip, John turning back to her with a sharp grin. She couldn’t help the chill that went over her. It wasn’t fear. Quite the opposite. 

She felt her libido surge, the sheer instinct of a female Lordbeast pumping through her system with every heartbeat. It was only resistable because they were in the middle of a battlefield, though if things continued going the way they were over the past few months, she wasn’t sure at what point even that would cease to matter. 

Especially when they finally crossed the line. 

She scowled and stuck a finger in his direction as if scolding him, yet getting no words out. 

He continued to grin at her, turning toward her and raising his arms to the sides, palms up, the knives resting there in all their bloody glory. 

“Hail to the King, baby.”

……

…

The battle finally ended. 

In the distance I could see the Harvesters rolling over, teams of soldiers mounted on bulldozers pushing the mountains of monster corpses into massive piles so they could be dumped into the Harvesters. 

My efficient manner of harvesting all the Black Crystals from their corpses. It wasn’t good for getting Crowns but when I didn’t care about that, it was quite cost efficient. 

Of course, the highest Authority Royals and monsters were left untouched, special teams moving to preserve those corpses. Their value would then be estimated, and they would be separated based on whether they would be used for their raw Crystals or for Crowns, should any special troops deserve them. 

For now, far more Royals were used in Crowns than for their raw Crystals. Even after harvesting the Crystal, the corpse could still be used with dampened effect. But I was trying to build a powerful army and initial investments into my troops were important, even though Heavy Metal would be doing the lifting most of the time. 

Crown operations were a hot purchase these days, and I had no issues getting Terrace to send teams fo doctors out to perform the necessary procedures, especially when I was forking out both the money and materials. 

I sat on the top of a Chariot, the name for the class of APC that served to replace Steeds. Umara was there with me, sitting against me as the wind and dust diverted around us thanks to her barrier. 

The rest of the team was in the hold of the vehicle. It didn’t take too long to roll back to camp, especially since the Chariot could move in excess of 80 miles an hour, and indefinitely. 

We pulled past the perimeter, settling into the area where all the Heavy and Light Metal were docked. Hundreds of troops were dressing down for the night, the sun going down and not a single monster for two dozen miles around according to the recon plane above. 

Of course, patrols and watches were running anyway, but generally the atmosphere was light. 

After all, this was by far the largest force 1st Brigade had ever defeated. They had done so in open, frontal battle. 

Of course, I didn’t share the same excitement as the rest of the troops. Well, I was a bit excited, but not about anything pertaining to the battle. Regardless, I wouldn’t be sharing anything but my praises with the troops. The Generals were the ones who had to suffer my scrutiny despite the victory. 

I spoke with my team for a bit before calling Polly and giving her a debrief. After all that, I walked through the camp, some fires going and soldiers all bringing out the foodstuffs. 

I saw General Darragh in the middle of the camp, by his Command Tank, chatting with some of the other tank captains, a wide grin on his face. 

“Hey, Darragh!”

I shouted, the surroundings instantly going silent. I realized my tone was a bit too stern, though I didn’t expect such a tense reaction anyway. 

I kept my gaze on Darragh. 

“I’ll see you and your retinue in the command tent for our debrief. As for the rest of you!”

I turned to the several thousand troops around me, not including the thousands more beyond in other parts of the camp that I couldn’t see and those still returning to base. 

I smiled. 

“An airdrop of alcohol is on its way. Don’t go overboard, but if you do, just make sure I don’t hear about it. To victory.”

“TO VICTORY!”

The chant was resounding, everyone cheering as I walked off to the command tent. 

General Darragh was prompt. Before long, him and his cohort were inside and waiting for me to speak. 

Two other Major Generals and five colonels were around a table, Umara and I at the head of it. I saw some of my team in the back corner, Feiden, Jaya, Shadowbane, and Tana, hanging around for some reason. They liked to be around whenever I did a lot of talking. 

I disregarded them and turned my gaze to the others. Nobody was smiling, because I certainly wasn’t. Gone was the victorious joy of just 5 minutes ago. 

It was a good thing the tent was soundproof. 

“General Darragh. Today you’ve defeated an army of 50 thousand Scourge monsters, the largest you’ve ever faced thus far. By all accounts this is a major victory. Reports about this battle will be passed around the Kingdom, likely landing in the hands of the King himself. Most, if not all, would be proud of this achievement.”

I leaned forward over the table, staring at Darragh, who stood at the opposite side, suffering the full brunt of my scrutiny. 

“Are you?”

“…For a moment, I was. Sir.”

“Well now you’re just making me out to be a buzzkill. Unfortunately, I’m currently incapable of finding any fucks to give. My concerns, instead, lie with the horrendous execution of this battle.”

I tapped the table, the device within responding and a projector spitting out a list of numbers. 

An expenditure list. 

“Tell me what you see there, General Darragh.”

“…A list that states we fired off around 70% of our local ammunition and ordnance stockpiles in this singular battle.”

“Correct. Now tell me what exactly I’m loathing about this list right now.”

“That we only killed 50 thousand with it.”

“Correct. Do you know how many you could’ve killed with it?”

“…No sir.”

“ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY FIVE THOUSAND!!”

Everyone in the tent flinched as I nearly screamed that number. 

“Everyone in this fucking tent understands my war philosophy crystal fucking clearly! I’m here spending money instead of lives to eradicate the Scourge from this land! I will never fault any of you or these soldiers for doing just that. But what I won’t accept from my generals is a THIRTY PERCENT KILL EFFICIENCY! And believe me when I say that this has nothing to do with the money being wasted!”

My Psyka directly reached into the table’s terminal and changed the projection, showing recent recon estimates from the mountain range in the north. 

The graveyard of the Treehouse and Stronghold Charlie. 

“Seeing you fools laughing out there almost had me believing that you’ve forgotten what kind of army is approaching us right now! There are well over a MILLION monsters marching their way down here, intent on drowning you in their numbers and eradicating everything that you’ll fail to protect if you keep up this shit fucking performance! There will come a time when you’ll be wishing you could come back to this moment, a time when armies of Scourge were only 50 thousand strong, because sooner than you think, you’re going to be facing off against double that size! Then those 200 thousand strong armies are going to come knocking on your fucking door, and by that time you’re going to be neck deep in shit and the corpses of all your soldiers if you don’t clean up your FUCKING ACT!”

I felt my fists tremble against the table, checking myself when I felt Umara’s Aura protecting itself against Anarchy, my Anarchy. 

Darragh sat there, looking down, barely holding himself together while maintaining some semblance of his pride as a full General. 

I took a few deep breaths, getting a handle back on my Aura as I wiped away the projection above the table.

“…There’s a lot at stake here, General Darragh, and don’t think for a second that my reputation is in that lot. My weapons are a turning point for humanity as a whole, and this place, the Glass Desert, will be the ground upon which we prove their might to the rest of the world. However, if we fail, humanity will fall back into its old ways and inevitably fall against the Scourge. I took the risk of creating the Iron Legion because someone needed to show humanity what real victory against the Scourge looks like, the kind of victory that may one day result in the annihilation of our existential enemy. I know you got a taste of it today. I know you understand what needs to be done. But I don’t think you’re approaching all of this with the level of urgency you need to be. And I certainly can’t have you celebrating a victory paid for with an amount of ammunition fit to kill three times the amount you did.”

My voice fell, my eyes boring into Darragh once more. 

“You didn’t just kill 50 thousand Scourge, Darragh. You killed 50 thousand and then saved another 100 thousand monsters with your wasteful expenditure. Another one hundred thousand monsters could’ve been killed with that ordnance. Instead, all you did was crater the dirt. It may look mighty impressive from the sky, but I see nothing but an inefficient disgrace.”

I stood myself straight, no longer leaning on the table and turning my gaze away from Darragh. 

“All of you need to start thinking about what you’re going to be facing in the future. Part of having intelligence is being able to see beyond what’s in front of you, beyond the present moment in time. It’s the very nature of strategy and tactics, and you don’t face a human enemy so it shouldn’t be fucking difficult to utilize some, especially when it’s already been developed for you. I don’t care what you need to tell yourself. You can imagine the amount of people that are going to die if you fail. The amount of villages and cities raped and devoured. The very extinction of humanity. Whatever you need to do to get your head screwed on straight, do it, because I didn’t build the most dangerous and terrifying weapons humanity has ever seen to have them wasted on a few tens of thousands of monsters. I intend to eradicate the million strong army that’s marching toward us and then push them back into their hellish lands, retaking what we’ve lost, and killing what will likely be triple that amount in the process. But I can’t do that if the people heading my troops are only operating at this level.”

I finally went silent. I think they understood my point but sometimes people lost sight of the vision. It took reminders like these to set them back straight. 

After some time, I brought up a chair and sat down, tapping the terminal and bringing up some video and images from the battle. 

“Now, let’s go over exactly where we’ve fucked up so horribly. Perhaps we can turn some of that wasted ordnance into learning experience.”

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