When it comes to the entity known as “Legion”, we are left with little concrete information and plenty of speculation. First, the concrete Legion generally operates alone, or with minor support from another demon prince. All the individuals making up Legion are capable of Tartarian Pyromancy and all of them move as one. In some regard, they are comparable to War’s Orchestra, however whereas a soul needs to be willing to listen to the music to embrace my Orchestra, this does not seem to be the case with Legion. From reports by Goddess Neneria, of Death, we can ascertain that the individual “pieces” of Legion do not possess souls. They are biological automata.

For speculation, we have no idea how Legion reproduces. We are aware that Legion can “swallow” other demons into itself, yet we have also seen Legion grow in locations where it could not have possibly come in contact with fresh manpower. It is suspected to have a maximum range dependent on the amount of bodies present although this is unconfirmed. It is merely observed through the fact it does not “split” itself in the same way that War’s Orchestra is capable of monitoring multiple flanks at the same time, even when there would be tactical advantage to.

There has been talk of calling Legion “Legions”, or some other plural. This is wrong and officers who do this will be reprimanded. The name “Legion” (singular) is correct for Legion is one, yet it is one so large that we see it as many. The best example would be a body. Legion is a whole, yet each individual is a cell. We refer to each other in the singular, we shall refer to Legion in the singular.

– Excerpt from “Tactical Considerations and Strategic Guidelines”, written by Goddess Kassandora, of War, during the Great War. It barely entered mass print and was instead used as a guide and discussion piece of Imperial Officers.

Kavaa walked down the line of immortals Malam had handed off to her since the Goddess of Hatred went. Today, a team of three men had returned from Aris to personally inform Malam that there was no more reason to search. They had found Kavaa instead, but it did not matter. Both Kavaa and Malam were Goddesses Imperial, and both could handle the initiation of Operation Ratsweeper. A wind blew across the forest and rustled the trees. It brushed Kavaa’s grey hair. It pulled on untucked shirt and unbuttoned coat of the immortals.

The three men who had returned were Malam’s through and through. They did not even have names, instead being Stalker, Baker and Ranger. If they had not caught Kavaa in such a sour mood, then she would have asked them for their story. But unfortunately, they did not good luck in that regard. Kavaa grit her teeth and bit her tongue as the three soldiers followed. Honestly, she had believed that Helenna needed Malam, but she had not expected Malam to leave a mission like this abandoned. What? Was Kavaa supposed to finish it herself now? Just because the wheels where spinning did not mean that it required no personal involvement whatsoever.

“Continue Stalker.” Kavaa said angrily as the immortals to her right made the worst formation she had ever seen. Not her job though. These were Malam’s men now. They may carry her blessing, but Malam had found a use for them, and Malam had gotten this behaviour into them. Not her job to fix them. She did her part.

“In the North West of Rancais.” Stalker began, he read off a sheet of numbers. Any of the three could speak, but Kavaa chose this man simply for the fact Ranger, obviously the youngest, was horrendously high-pitched and Baker talked slowly. Stalker reported like a proper soldier. “We have not found a new name in two weeks now. Even when teams are rotated in, the situation does not change. We just get repeats of names and addresses. Even aliases are beginning to repeat now.”

“The work is done then?” Kavaa asked.

“Well…” Stalker said. “Several of the targets have been reporting that they wish to emigrate from the Empire at this point.”

“And they’re not running away?”

“Goddess Paida’s Rebuilding Rancais decree has shut the borders temporarily.” Kavaa knew about that. Malam had made sure to get Kavaa to add that stipulation so that their targets would not escape. “I suppose they want to go through legal channels. Some have families, you can smuggle yourself across the border but you’re not going to be smuggling groups of people.” Stalker chuckled to himself. “It helps that there’s no one who will actually accept Imperials either.”

“They don’t feel in danger?”

“The policy of non-interference has made them comfortable.” Stalker said. “It’s in the full report.” The full report was eighty-three pages long. “A few have escaped to Rilia and Doschia already but they’re still in the Empire.”

“And they have contingencies?” Kavaa asked.

“Sorcerers have been called in.” Stalker answered.

“You know this how?”

“I helped General Tremali plan the operation.” Stalker said and Kavaa smiled. Honestly, there really was something amazing at how efficient everyone here was. It wasn’t that anyone did anything amazing or inhuman, it was that everyone had a job, and everyone did their damn job. Most importantly, no one complained. And when no one complained, then everyone won.

It was almost enough to take the edge off Kavaa’s anger. Almost. Her grey eyes still froze this disorganised rabble of soldiers to her right when she marched. Immortal they may be, but a lack of mortality obviously was not a lack of shock and fear. Kavaa asked the most important question. “How many in total?”

Stalker reported instantly. “Thirty-nine thousand, three hundred and eighty-two.” Kavaa smiled to herself. Maybe it was because she was the Goddess of Health and health was a preciously precise little thing, but she always liked when people did not round numbers to her.

“Is Ratsweeper ready to go tomorrow?” Kavaa asked.

“General Tremali has checked the plans and confirmed he doesn’t see issue. Yes, in other words.” And Kavaa smiled at that too. It was completely different to the White Pantheon, where everyone needed to have their own stupid little addition just so that they could pretend they helped. In Arascus’ Empire, either the Empire won or the Empire lost. It was as much of a team effort as a team effort could be.

“I’ve seen it too.” Kavaa had honestly been impressed, more so by the sheer scale of the Operation and how far the Empire was willing to go to solve a problem. “Are the civilian sectors ready?”

“We have local garrisons travelling to power plants and radio stations ready to shut the country down Goddess. Yes.” Stalker said. It was the sort of plan that would have been impossible in the White Pantheon. Of course, nothing about it was particularly difficult. In reality, it was devilishly simple, just simply at scale. The Rancais Ministry of Energy would announce that they would be running tests on the power grid and to prepare the population for blackouts.

Those tests would not exist of course, but that didn’t matter. The only person aware in Rancais’ government that they were a cover was Paida. The garrisons would cut power and radio communication. The country would be shut down. And then they would have two days to do whatever was needed to do. The blackout could be pushed to three, maybe four, if time demanded it, but the original estimates said that more than a thousand rats an hour would be removed.

Those blackouts would be when the immortals would make their move. The majority of Anarchia’s blessed weren’t tech savants or even engineers, they had simply been random people that had sworn to their false Goddess and believed her words. Students made up the majority of the group, they would go last. Those with any sort of capabilities in tech were first in the list, to make sure that none would be able to even think of fashioning a makeshift home-radio.

The forewarned blackout would keep the patient that was Rancais asleep like a tranquilizer. The surgery that was Operation Ratsweeper would cut out the cancer of Anarchia’s leftovers. By the time the patient woke up, all would be healed. Kavaa stepped away from the man called Stalker and looked at men who remained of the First Expedition’s Vanguard. Did they need a speech? She supposed they did. She took a deep breath as Stalker’s team stepped away. The wind came over in a breeze and swayed her cloak. Black cars were parked to the right side of the camp. That would serve as the transport from here to Rancais. It would be a two-day trip, three days most likely since each pair would be assigned their own route.

Kavaa’s grey eyes slowly crawled down the line of men, from one side to the other and then back again. Men who stood with the barest concession to uniformity. Men stood with their shirts untucked, their buttons undone. A few were smoking. A few managed to maintain rank though. Kavaa had seen them act like this before Malam, the Goddess of Hatred had practically ingrained this behaviour into them. Trying to beat it out of them would be a futile battle and even Kassandora would not attempt futile battles.

Kavaa realised she was delaying. She had never much liked public speaking. It wasn’t a matter of shyness or uncertainty or anything like that. It simply was not for her. Kavaa remembered the speech she gave to her Clerics when she, Helenna and Iniri had decided to change the world. She had given a speech then. She had even been proud of herself. Would she give a speech like that now?

“Attention!” Kavaa roared and all the men turned towards her. They still made no attempt at rank, smoke still rose from between lips, but there was no more quiet chatter and no more looking around in boredom. A gust of wind rustled through the trees. How should she begin? How would she have begun then?

And immediately, the answer came to Kavaa’s mind. That Kavaa had been a Goddess of the White Pantheon and this Kavaa was a Goddess Imperial. That Kavaa wore green undercoats and grey steel, this Kavaa wore black coats and black boots. That Kavaa had donned a knight’s helm, this Kavaa wore a peaked black cap with a silver badge affixed to the front. That Kavaa had waved around a blade, this Kavaa stood with her hands behind her back. That Kavaa had turned for men to follow her, this Kavaa stared down her nose at the soldiers.

The only thing that remained the same was grey hair. It fell down the Goddess of Health’s back in straight lines. Kavaa began, it wouldn’t be long. “Thirty-Nine thousand, three hundred and eighty-two souls have been found blessed by Anarchia in Rancais. Thirty-Nine thousand, three hundred and eighty-two souls wield strength stolen from others. Thirty-Nine thousand, three hundred and eighty-two souls walk through this world on borrowed time. Their Goddess is dead and they still think themselves mighty because of leeched power.”

Was it bad? But this is what a speech should be, should it not? Divines were here to command and order. Allasaria worked under some grand scheme where she tried to give Divinity a friendly face. Arascus made it easier for everyone involved. Easier for Kavaa at least. “What we will do today is retake this lost power. We will return balance to the world.” Kavaa smiled in a sinister manner. First she had to live through the Noble Age of Warfare, where knights and lords battled and called for her to heal them after their useless, meaningless duels. Then she had to survive the Great War, where Fortia sent her and her Clerics to the worst frontlines and battles imaginable. Then she had to suffer a thousand years of Pantheon Peace.

Elassa had gotten her tyranny out, did she not? Continent Cracking was not the first atrocity she had committed, it was merely the most recent one. And the rest? Someone like Maisara could make a stack of paper as tall as her if she tried to list her own ‘achievements’. It was simply a matter of respect. Fortia would have never sent Kavaa to Erdely if Kavaa had the same reputation as Maisara or Allasaria. Kavaa would have needed to agree if she didn’t have anything to prove. And for suffering in those impenetrable woods, the most acknowledgement she had ever gotten it was from fucking Iliyal Tremali.

Fuck the speech and fuck the men. Kavaa did not really care about their opinions or what they thought of a damn speech. “Do not pretend we are doing something righteous here for we are not.” Kavaa shouted. “We are going to end the lives of almost forty thousand not for any reason but because they cause us trouble. Because they think themselves grand, because a little power has been handed out and given them delusions of grandeur. Because they would the exact same to you since you are Imperial soldiers if they had won. Because their Goddess thought she could wage war against Divinity that has waded through so much blood that men would drown in it. That is why.”

“We will eliminate them because they are fools. Fools who think that a blessing of stolen power given away by some cheap, one-trick-pony of a Goddess is equivalent to the real gifts Divinity can bestow!” Kavaa gloriously swept her hand over the men. Being an Imperial Goddess was something else compared to being a White Pantheon Goddess. “I have freed you from your mortality. Now you will free them from theirs.”

Kavaa finished and cheers answered her. Men raised their hands into the air, others started to excitedly stomp their feet. And all made some sound of agreement. Kavaa realised what she said, and when she saw the reactions of the men in front of her, she felt her eyes go wide in surprise. These were not men that were rallied with lies. These were men who cheered at her truth. Kavaa’s grey eyes grew wider. She knew what she said was horrible, but…

Well? It had been the truth, had it not? Who did Anarchia think she was? And who was Kavaa to pretend she was any better than the rest of the Divines of the Empire or the White Pantheon? At the end of the day, they had all willingly marched to a century long war with each other. At the end of the day, if anyone wanted to pull out of that conflict, they could. At the end of the day, everyone had seen it through it. At the end of the day, the person in the Empire that Kavaa liked the most was Kassandora, and it certainly wasn’t because Kassandora had a good sense of humour.

It had been the truth, but it was the sort of truth that people did not want to hear. That other Divines would spew themselves and then go to Kavaa and tell her not to say such things. It was the truth, and it was Kavaa’s truth. And these men cheered for it.

This feeling was incredible.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep