Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 42 – Out of sight – Part Two

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 42 - Out of sight - Part Two

The ‘not a minotaur’ was something of an odd duck. Possessing an almost childlike Intelligence and ability to articulate his thoughts, Mortax was the second most violent and sapient monster I had seen so far. What made it all the stranger was how quickly he had switched from dopey gratitude to homicidal rage and back again. Like there was a switch in his brain.

Despite not initially wanting to believe it, Mortax had also been responsible for giving me such a hard time when taking control of the Enslaved women in the criminal hideout. As best I could determine, the Slaver amongst the thugs' ranks must have performed some sort of psychological conditioning on Mortax. There was no other real explanation for why he would be so unconditionally subservient with such a high Willpower, unless he was biding his time, watching, listening, learning, as I had done.

When freed of the Slaver’s immediate control, Mortax had surrendered to my control immediately. There had been no struggle, no resistance, just acceptance. Yet at every opportunity presented under the self-defence command, Mortax had committed acts of brutal violence without hesitation.

That was the part that has kept me up most of the night. He was clearly capable of not only holding grudges but also of establishing bonds of empathy with humans. Mortax also seemed to have an intuitive sense of what any given command would allow him to do.

I had come to believe that Mortax had been enacting proactive self-defence against the bound thugs on the street. Because he believed the thugs would be capable of repeating acts of violence against himself, or the others, Mortax had sidestepped the intended reactionary nature of the command.

I wasn’t sure if it was a result of his low Intelligence, high Willpower, a potential genetic trait of his Species, his protracted Enslavement, or the fact that Mortax was Taskmaster. Quite possibly it could have been the result of any combination of factors.

In any case, I was planning on taking Mortax with me into the Labyrinth so I could keep an eye on him and maybe gain a better understanding of what makes him tick. If I was ever to encounter another one of his Species I wanted to have a better idea of what I would need to expect. Besides, with Ushu being too large to enter the fortress in Mournbrent’s Labyrinth, Mortax would be my only heavy hitter to assist with countering any other large monsters. Stats were nice, but sheer size and bulk counted for a great deal when fighting the larger monsters. It was simple physics really, a larger weapon deals more damage and a larger body takes less damage.

I didn’t get much sleep, but after spending most of the day before resting, I didn’t really need it either.

The plan was to enter the third floor of Laine’s Labyrinth around midday and begin the official claim on the abandoned Foothold almost immediately. With a twenty-four-hour claim time, beginning and ending during daylight hours was important for ensuring the humans were able to contribute during the initial period of the fighting and then hold watch during the day after the midnight respawn period.

Nadine was going to spend the morning giving the women and men we had rescued medical checkups while Gregory continued interrogating the thugs for information.

Unlike the human combat Slaves, I wanted to free the gang’s former captives as soon as possible. With the overwhelming majority appearing to be Asrusian, I planned on freeing them just as soon as Nadine was done making the most of the group status information and Synergies to provide them treatment.

Fesk was only too eager to take advantage of the opportunity and practice signing. The nature of sign language was somewhat antithetical to regular sentence structure and grammar, which made it rather easy to string together sentences from basic words. As much about context as the choice of words themselves, conversations with signing required more analytical engagement than just talking.

Fesk’s vocabulary was slowly increasing, but retention was still our primary focus. Theoretically, if I managed to do a good enough job teaching Fesk Auslan, he would be able to teach it to others, albeit in a more restricted fashion.

In preparation for entering the Labyrinth, I summoned Ril and requested she bring Rikit to my location. Negotiating with the surviving Ashfurs was far more likely to succeed with a strong Gnoll matriarch on our side, and at worst, Rikit could dominate the existing Matriarch and annex the tribe.

Just as I had asked, Ril delivered Rikit a few minutes later.

“You sent for Rikit, my Tyrant?” Rikit asked somewhat nervously, cackling slightly and earning a whimpering chorus from Khibi. Drawn to the whimpers of the little Gnoll, Rikit abruptly turned her back on me and approached Fesk and Khibi. “Is a cub!” She barked excitedly, earning a fresh whimpering giggle from Khibi, “Give Rikit cub!” Rikit insisted, reaching for Khibi with one large clawed hand.

Fesk protectively wrapped his arms around Khibi in response to the demand and gave me a questioning look.

#Safe. Trust. Give.# I signed and pointed first to Khibi and then to Rikit.

Still appearing somewhat uncertain, Fesk unfolded his arms and handed Khibi over to Rikit.

Handling the little Gnoll with surprising gentleness despite her ferocious appearance, Rikit looked Khibi over from top to bottom licking Khibi’s face. “Am Rikit,” she stated warmly, “You?”

Khibi whimpered anxiously but said nothing.

“Her name is Khibi,” I explained.

Rikit bobbed her head in acknowledgement, “Khibi,” she repeated, the name sounding more like a barking growl by her means of pronunciation. All the Gnoll names had strange pronunciations, combining growls, barks, heckles and whines to achieve an entirely strange accent all their own. “Khibi is...orphan?” Rikit asked, struggling with the unfamiliar word.

“Uncertain,” I replied, “We have managed to rescue a large number of eggs I think might belong to the tribe, but the survivors of the attack haven’t been very talkative so I can’t trust them near the eggs to be sure.”

Rikit snipped at the air before snorting hard and shaking her head, “Males,” she acknowledged without elaborating further. “Rikit has scent, can judge eggs,” she declared confidently.

“That’s good, but we will be entering the Labyrinth to find the rest of the tribe. It’s quite likely that they lost their matriarch in the attack and I want you to take control of the tribe to avoid further bloodshed,” I explained patiently, “There were some Gnolls amongst one of our enemies' combat Slaves as well. If you want to take responsibility for them, it’s up to you.”

Rikit seemed curious but bowed her head obediently, “Rikit do,” she promised.

The Gnolls were something of a unique case. Depending on how they would react to Rikit, I would know whether they could be integrated into Sanctuary, or whether they would need to go through the citizenship or resettlement process.

Still holding Khibi, Rikit began hunting down the Ashfur males.

Fesk deflated somewhat and watched Rikit leave with a pained look in his eyes.

It was a reminder that I still didn’t know much about Fesk and the life he had led before I entered the Mournbrent Labyrinth. Even so, Fesk was still a long way off being able to communicate to a degree that would make prying anything but disappointing.

With Nadine’s examinations taking longer than expected, Fesk and I continued practising signing to one another while waiting for her to finish. Fesk’s enthusiasm had taken a rather noticeable decline, but Gregory’s arrival prevented me from dwelling on it.

“Majesty, a vast host of imperial forces have been spotted approaching the city, and the siege is expected to begin within the next thirty-six hours,” Gregory stated gravely, “We are aware that you intended to visit the third floor first, but the Lord Regent and high command are hoping that you might reconsider seizing the first floor and establish the gateway first.”

I furrowed my brow and frowned, “How many qualify as vast?” I asked warily.

Gregory fidgetted somewhat uncomfortably, “Rough estimates place the enemy forces at approximately two hundred thousand...”

That didn’t seem ‘too’ bad.

“And four times as many slaves...” Gregory added, gulping dryly, “Including their elite combat slaves...”

“A million?” I demanded somewhat incredulously, unsure I had heard Gregory correctly, or that perhaps he had miscounted.

Gregory stiffly nodded, “The empire’s entire invasion force has shifted to target this city. The more distant elements won’t be in a position to engage for another twelve days, but without reinforcements, Laine city will have long since been overrun. So on behalf of the Lord Regent and high command, I beg that you reconsider,” he pleaded.

“Why are they sending so many men?” I asked warily, still struggling to understand why the city was so important to the empire.

“With Mournbrent so heavily compromised and Kerdan embroiled in asinine infighting, besides a few trading towns, Laine is the only city standing between the empire and our capitol. If we lose the seat of the crown, morale will plummet,” Gregory explained anxiously, “Without a stronghold on their flank, the siege of the capitol will become a horrific meat grinder, and when the walls are turned to rubble, the losses will become truly apocalyptic! So please, Majesty, reconsider.”

“Alright,” I agreed reluctantly. This was why I was here, and why I was involved with Mournbrent. Keeping the wars away from Sanctuary.

Gregory looked profoundly relieved.

“Fesk, fetch Rikit, there has been a change in plans,” I ordered, unwilling to risk signing for fear I might be misunderstood.

Fesk nodded diligently and went running off to find Rikit.

“We will leave just as soon as Nadine is ready,” I informed Gregory while donning my armour, “And tell your Regent that I will be allowing Gric to draft soldiers for facilitating the Citizenship through Service initiative.”

Caught somewhat off guard Gregory gave me a curious look while seeming to debate whether it would be best if he should ask what I meant.

“Slavers, for enforcing compliance during the adjustment period,” I explained dryly, uncomfortable with the necessity of the role and my part in suggesting it, “Men and women Gric will hold to account to ensure they do not abuse their authority and position of power.”

Gregory looked surprised, “Ah...,how many Slavers did your Majesty have in mind?” He asked nervously.

“How large is the Asrusian army?” I countered, “And how many enemy Slaves will accept the the deal in place of resettlement?”

Gregory slowly nodded as he appeared to concede the point.

“Depending on how many Slaves a Slave Master or a Lord eqivilent can control, it’s very likely that a hundred or so will be the bare minimum required in order to meet original demand,” I explained uncomfortably, “And your command structures will need to be adjusted to account for their pressence. The Slavers can use Commands, to ensure the Slaves obey reasonable orders and the chain of command. However, I will not tolerate Slaves being used as fodder. So long as they uphold their end of the agreement, they are to be treated the same as any other soldier.”

Gregory nodded stiffly, “I understand, Majesty, but may I ask when this training will occur?”

I sighed and pulled on my helmet, “Just as soon as the Gateway is connected to the network,” I grunted while getting to my feet, “So at least a couple of days.”

Gregory grimaced but nodded to show he understood, “I shall inform the Lord Regent and high command. Good luck, Majesty.”

“You too, Gregory, you too,” I replied while trying not to dwell on the scale of the rapidly approaching conflict.

Fesk and Rikit soon returned with close to eighty male Gnolls in tow. Varying greatly in size and build, all of the males followed Rikit with child-like obedience.

“Rikit, come here,” I waved her forward and picked up my recently acquired bow. It was time to test whether the bowstring was a complete artefact.

Rikit obediently approached with her head lowered.

“Take this bow and claim the third-floor Foothold in my name,” I ordered, “Gather the Ashfur survivors under your banner and offer them resettlement in Sanctuary.”

“Tyrant commands, Rikit obeys!” Rikit snarled proudly, accepting the large bow with her free hand. Without being told the trick, she resized the bow to better suit her size. I wondered if it was a trick all monsters knew intuitively, and only Awakened were required to learn.

“Gregory will give you and your warriors tokens that will take you to the third-floor Foothold, and the weapons you will need in order to hold it. Whether you seek out the Ashfurs first or seize the Foothold, I will leave it at your discretion. But remember Rikit, time is working against us,” I warned.

Rikit bobbed her head, “Rikit understands, Tyrant. Rikit go now!” She turned to Gregory, “Take Rikit to Labyrinth!” She barked eagerly, earning a chorus of eager barks from the male Gnolls.

Gregory glanced at me and then nodded, hurrying away towards the former guild building.

I turned my attention towards Fesk, “Fesk, we won’t be leaving anyone behind. It’s too great a risk. We will also be bringing the eggs with us. Protecting the eggs will be your highest priority. The guild will have an administration building of some kind, made of stone and fortified, that will be where you will protect the eggs and keep the noncombatants. Understood?”

#Understand. Obey.# Fesk signed with a serious expression.

“The Lizardmen will assist with protecting the building and will store their eggs inside as well. But besides them and the noncombatants, no one else is allowed inside. Understand?”I briefly glanced towards the manor and wondered how well the Lizardmen would take the deliberate endangerment of their eggs.

#Understand. Obey.# Fesk signed again.

#Good.# I signed back, “Don your armour and prepare to move out.” I didn’t wait for a reply, instead approaching a group of Orcs that were wrestling on the grass.

Noticing my approach, the Orcs very quickly ceased their roughhousing and warily crowded together, “Tell the Lizardmen I need to speak with them, and tell everyone else that we will be entering the Labyrinth very soon,” I ordered.

The orcs looked at one another and then ran off in different directions.

It did not take long for Cheh, the Lizardmens’ leader, to make her way out of the manor, and I more or less gave her the same explanation as I had done with Fesk. With one notable exception. ”-and once the territory is claimed, a Gateway will be created to transport yourselves and your eggs to Sanctuary. It is a home safe from human predation, where your people can raise your young in relative peace. Understood?”

Cheh, already laying prostrate on the ground, bobbed her head, “We obey...Great One,” She answered without hesitation.

“Good. Prepare the rest of your people for travel,” I ordered, “We are leaving soon.”

“Obedience...Great One,” Cheh stood herself back up and hurried back inside of the manor.

The Slaves had begun filtering out of the manor and were roughly assemlbing in the open space afforded by the grounds. The combat Slaves had crude weapons provided by their former masters, while the Slaves appropriated from Laine’s citizens were largely barehanded.

They were not to know, but weapons and light armour would be provided from what was essentially the army’s surplus. Once the Slaves began racking up redemption points, they would also be able to use them to purchase all sorts of equipment.

With roughly two hundred or so Slaves and their associated Synergies, I was inclined to believe that the first floor was not going to be any sort of challenge. However, that was precisely the situation I wanted. With low to no literacy amongst the general population of Slaves, they were unable to engagewith and accept custom quests designed to teach them how to unlock different Classes. So the general idea was to hold the territory through sheer weight of numbers and combined Synergies.

The female Lizardmen had made large slings from the sheets and straw of their bedding to allow them to safely carry their eggs. Other Slaves had taken note of the simple design and after making their own, were using them to carry food.

Only waiting on Nadine, I directed the Slaves to begin forming up in front of the former Adventurers Guild building so the soldiers inside could begin issuing them surplus equipment. Sending Fesk to fetch the Elves and Anette, I kept a wary eye on Mortax while worrying whether the scarred Elf would cause problems again.

The human Slaves seemed profoundly relieved when they realised that they would be given proper weapons and armour to fight with. Apparently, many had suspected I would treat them the same as their former masters. It wasn’t all that surprising really. It would probably take months before even the most optimistic Slaves would allow themselves to accept the difference in their circumstances and treatment.

To my immense surprise, the Elves were not putting up a fight at all, seemingly content to follow Fesk and stand at the rear of the assembled Slaves. Anette was anxiously standing behind the Elves in turn, doing her best to remain out of sight.

When the Quartermaster made his way to the Elves, the scarred Elf just stared at him blankly until the quartermaster pushed a suit of quilted armour and a sheathed shortsword into the Elf’s arms before turning to the others. Even Anette was given a dagger to defend herself with.

It was obvious that the Quartermaster was taking his job very seriously.

Nadine arrived shortly afterwards and looked quite tired, most likely as a result of spending so much of her mana. The Slaves who had accepted Nadine’s offer to learn the Surgeon Class migrated towards her as a group.

Waving over the Quartermaster, I had him provide the prospective Surgeons with bandages, needles and thread portioned into bags, sacks or whatever he had on hand.

Rikit and her Gnolls had already passed through the portal to the third floor. So once the tokens were distributed, I led the Slaves through to the first-floor Foothold.

More or less what I had expected, the Foothold itself was close to identical in appearance to the First-floor Foothold from the Hurst labyrinth. Laid out like a small village, the administration building and the inn were the only buildings made from stone.

A cursory exploration of the Foothold revealed that while the people had been removed, the tools and equipment of each enterprise had been left behind.

“Nadine, the inn is reserved for the Surgeons and patients. The administration building is off-limits to everyone I have not given explicit permission to enter. The same applies to the apothecary!” I declared loudly while altering Commands en masse, “Otherwise, you are free to make camp or use any of the remaining buildings for shelter when not on duty. Humans will be taking the first shift and will be further divided into active duty, patrol duty and reserve duty. Form up into groups of five with others who have the same general weapon type, then pair with another group!”

The human Slaves began obediently, if somewhat uncertainly forming up into groups while the monsters began claiming living spaces inside of the remaining buildings.

Similarly, once the Lizardmen were told which of the two stone buildings was the administration building, they wasted no time in moving themselves in and then assisted Fesk with moving the eggs rescued from the guild inside. Anette and two of the three Elves moved themselves in as well, but the scarred Elf lingered by the doorway and made a point of glaring at me.

Choosing to ignore the Elf, for the time being, I divided the human Slaves into their three roles and made sure to take a look outside to gain a better understanding of what we would be in for.

The surrounding area was a mostly desolate and arid shrubland littered with large rocks and boulders. A distant mountain range loomed on the horizon. But there was no sign of any monsters.

According to the Guild’s records, the first floor had no intelligent humanoid monsters, only golem-like constructs formed from different resources. Rather than wandering the floor at random, the monsters would settle in and camouflage with their environment. Normally only territorial and reactive in nature, they would still be actively provoked by the Conquest of the Foothold.

After confirming that I couldn’t spot any of the monsters, I returned to the Foothold and activated my Artefact. Ignoring the familiar Quest details for the most part, I took only a moment to confirm that there was a twenty-four-hour countdown now in progress.

Standing beside the north gate, I witnessed low clouds of dirt and debris beginning to encircle the foothold from a distance.

After a half-hour, the first of the monsters slowly began lumbering into view. Just as described, they were made from packed earth, branches and stones. Vaguely humanoid in appearance, their proportions were deformed at best and barely functional at worst. Perhaps three feet tall on average, they were painfully slow-moving and uncoordinated, and I was almost tempted to write them off entirely.

Further back, I could see larger constructs of stone gradually making their way closer. Similar to the monsters found beneath Sanctuary, I wondered if they would yield iron ingots as well.

Strange scatterings of spindly bushes had begun outpacing the amalgams, using their roots like strange hooking tentacles to drag themselves forward like bizarrely camouflaged octopuses. Having seen Qreet and Hana both use Druid Abilities to crush or infest enemies to death with roots, I was far more leery of these small bushes than the lumbering stone golems.

Retreating to the administration building, I patrolled the outside of the building to make sure that Fesk had followed through with barricading all the windows. The scarred Elf was still outside and glared at me suspiciously as I finished my security review of the building.

“What are you doing?” He demanded suspiciously.

“Making sure the wild monsters won’t be able to break in without making at least some noise,” I replied absently while moving on to do the same with the inn.

I saw the scarred elf scowl from the corner of my eye and he began to trail along behind me, “That’s not what I meant,” he stated irritably.

“Then you will have to be specific,” I replied glibly, “I am busy and the majority of my attention is elsewhere.”

I felt a momentary flicker of contested control as the scarred Elf’s scowl deepened, “The lizards are under the impression that you will be taking them to some sort of paradise,” he snickered scornfully.

“As near as any I know of,” I admitted while testing a barricaded window.

The scarred Elf stared at me incredulously before snorting or shaking his head, “It’s a trap, or a lie,” he insisted.

I stopped inspecting the inn, turned and looked down at the Elf, “I have no reason for either,” I replied bluntly, “I have control over every one of you already. Why would I need to trick you? Besides, I never said you and the other Elves would be allowed,” I countered.

The scarred Elf looked confused and quite surprised.

“I can trust the Lizardmen to keep the peace, because they have children they want to raise and protect in relative safety and security. Enslavement won’t be necessary to ensure they follow the rules of the greater community. Similarly, Anette has proven to me that she would be able to integrate into the wider community, so she will be allowed the opportunity to accept or reject the offer of settling in Sanctuary,” I explained somewhat impatiently, “While you in particular have not made a favourable impression at all. You challenged my control and attacked me without considering the consequences of failure. If I was really as bad as you thought I was, what do you think would have happened once I put you down for attempting to harm me?”

The scarred Elf’s surprise turned to shock.

“Your lack of restraint and impulsive violent tendencies would make you a poor fit for Sanctuary. If the others are like you, then I will have no choice but to find a place for you amongst the Humans or resettle you alongside any of the wild monsters who opt out of service in exchange for citizenship,” I felt a small sense of satisfaction as a sense of panic began to be expressed on the more intact half of his face.

“B-But they haven’t done anything!” The scarred elf protested angrily.

I shrugged, “I won’t risk my family by taking a chance like that. Not without some sort of guarantee. However, Enslavement is, as much as current appearances beg to the contrary, taboo in my realm and those under my dominion. I will not ensure compliance of any citizen through Enslavement. It is a line I refuse to cross.”

The scarred Elf’s shoulders slumped and the unblemished half of his face twisted in an expression of regret.

I turned back to my inspection of the inn.

“Wait!” The scarred Elf insisted, “What if you took them and I stayed behind?” He bargained in a panic, “Talia is as gentle as they come, and Renan is harmless!”

“Or so you claim,” I countered somewhat callously, but stopped as I reviewed the behaviour of the other two Elves. Neither of them had made an attempt at violence while the scarred one had made his own play at freedom, or while I had been sleeping. Provided Anette and Fesk could vouch for their good behaviour, and they were given a chaperon for a few months, just to be safe, letting them inside of Sanctuary wasn’t completely out of the question.

The scarred Elf’s panic began to escalate, “What...” His voice broke and he clenched his hands into fists as he looked down and away to hide his face, “What if I swore to serve you for the rest of my life?” The scarred elf croaked, “Would that be enough?”

I mulled over his offer and decided to test his resolve by pointing out the problem with his offer. “I already have your obedience through Enslavement, and while breaking a vow could kill you, so would defying a Command I might give you right now.”

“I...I have nothing else...” The scarred elf croaked defeatedly.

“Obedience, collaboration, and cooperation,” I countered, “To put it bluntly, they are the most numerous of my subjects. This means, if your vows were to be worth anything at all, you have to use the next twenty-four hours to prove to me that you can work and fight effectively alongside humans.”

The scarred Elf nodded but didn’t say a word as he began making his way towards the southern gate.

Having not been explicitly told what to do, Mortax had been curiously wandering around the Foothold and was currently poking through the different items in the administration building's shed. Lacking a suitable weapon for his size, I wondered how long it would take for the Orc smiths to make him a large machete, mace, or hammer.

Content to leave Mortax be, for the time being at least, I continued circling the inn until I was confident that the barricaded windows would hold.

The monsters still hadn’t made it more than halfway towards the Foothold, but the closer they came, the tighter and more complete their encirclement became. The more paranoid part of my mind was concerned that the encirclement itself was more deliberate than just happenstance. Even so, there wasn’t really anything I could do about it for the time being.

Returning to the storage shed, I cut off a length of rope and turned it into a sling. Turning a large canvas sheet and some more rope into a crude carrying bag, I put it across my chest and then headed out of the southern gate to collect stones to use as ammunition.

The approaching monsters were still moving just as slowly as they had been earlier, but the shrubs were now only a few minutes away from reaching the gates and walls.

Loading a stone into my sling, I hurled it in the general direction of the approaching shrubs. I missed, which was as I had expected. Trying again, I came closer to hitting my target. However, rather than wasting my ammunition further, I decided to go back inside of the Foothold and wait until the monsters were closer and clustered more tightly together.

In the meantime, Mortax had either found, or been given, a large wooden hammer. Comprising a large, short, thick, squared-off log and a long thick stave, the hammer looked like it was most likely originally intended as a ground tamping tool or used in conjunction with a wedge for splitting timber. However, given Mortax’s size, he was easily capable of using the strange hammer one-handed.

There had been no armour, besides my own, that would have fit Mortax, so he was still dressed only in a loincloth.

It was very likely that neither of us would actually need armour to weather the attacks of the first floor monsters. However, I did find the weight of my armour to be reassuring during moments of impending violence.

Cries of anger, fear and courage echoed from the north and south, signalling the arrival of the shrub monsters. A few moments later, cries erupted from the patrols guarding the walls, confirming my suspicions that the scrub monsters were capable of climbing the crude palisade style walls.

For their part, the human combat Slaves seemed fully capable of dispatching the strange shrub monsters. With brittle upper extremities and overly soft roots, it didn’t seem to matter which type of weapon was used so long as the shrubs were prevented from swarming any one person.

Just like every other Conquest, the monsters were less interested in fighting and focused on trying to reach the large stone pillar that would serve as the future Settlement’s Totem. This was why the reserves were deployed seven ranks deep around the Totem. Even if the other positions were overrun, the Totem would remain the highest priority.

This was also the reason why I had committed so many of the humans to patrol duty as well. Theoretically, they would be able to intercept and further disrupt the approach of any monsters that bypassed the primary defences and defenders. This would then allow the reserves to remain in relatively peak condition throughout their shift.

The scarred Elf seemed to be giving it his all and was taking what I had said seriously. He really seemed to be making an effort to fight alongside the humans, rather than just fighting in the same general vicinity.

Named Shrublings, the shrub-like monsters were defeated without any casualties, but that had been a more dangerous adversary than I had first thought. Several humans had torn boots and lacerated shins from thorns on the Shrublings’ roots.

Not a complete loss, the wounded were assisted to the inn and would provide combat experience for Nadine’s aspiring Surgeons. Having already performed the required stitching on themselves to unlock the Class, treating the combat Slaves was much more about the application of what they had learned thus far.

The curious thing about Healing Exp was that it didn’t appear to scale by the Evolutionary Tier of the person being Healed, just the scale of the injury itself. So, theoretically, a team of Surgeons would never actually need to see combat in order to advance their level. Granted, earning Exp through Healing was a far slower enterprise than through combat against competitively Tiered monsters, but it was still something that could be of significant use.

The Regent had already been sending Human candidates to Sanctuary to learn from Wraithe, but they had all been soldiers and would be sent to support the ongoing war. If Surgeons were recruited and returned to the Human settlements, a healthy reserve of slowly levelling Surgeons would be available in the event of an emergency.

The need for Surgeons was offset to a certain degree by my Iron Gut Ability, but severe injuries, infections, and diseases would require medical intervention. As of this moment, I was doubtful that more than a handful of Settlements had that sort of access without the use of a Pact Binder summoning Wraithe.

The approach of the amalgams and stone golems was just as slow as before, but a second staggering wave of Shrublings looked like it would hit just before their arrival, leaving no time to rest before facing off against the presumably stronger monsters. All the same, I was curious to see what the Classless humans were capable of.

Lacking the military discipline of the Asrusian soldiers, and the benefit of formal training and complementary Abilities from even Basic Classes, the human combat Slaves were still handling the situation better than I would have done in their place. Whether it was out of base survival instincts, or the promise of eventual citizenship, I was unsure, but there was certainly something that could be said for the sheer weight of numbers.

With his self-defence Commands replaced with ones of non-violence, Mortax didn’t really have anything to do besides wander around. I had considered changing his Commands back again, but the risk of inadvertently harming the humans was just too high. If he was needed, then I would probably let him loose, but I doubted it would be necessary.

Despite their relative size, the stone and brush amalgams, or as the kill notifications labelled them, Gulch Elementals, were uncoordinated. Worse still, the branches that served as connective sinew for the rocks and boulders comprising the rest of their body were exposed and under immense strain from the monster's own weight. Even glancing blows against the branches could result in an arm or leg snapping free of the body, destabilising the Gulch Elemental even further and drastically reducing its combat effectiveness.

The Rock Elementals were a different matter entirely. Composed entirely of stone and loose chunks of packed dirt, they lacked the inherent weaknesses of the other two monsters, with the notable exception of very slow movement. Heavily resistant to blades and spears, only the Slaves with clubs, hammers and maces pilfered from the Foothold store had any real degree of success in bringing the Rock Elementals down.

As a result of most of their weapons being ineffective, the Rock Elementals began pushing their way through the Slaves garrisoned at the gates and were making their way towards the Totem.

Somewhat irritated, I gave Mortax a conditional Command to attack the Rock Elementals.

Almost immediately, Mortax turned towards the north gate and the slowly approaching Rock Elementals. “MROOOOO!!! MORTAX SMASH!!!” The Aurochian bellowed and charged the nearest Rock Elemental, lowering his head and dashing its crude body to pieces as he ploughed through to the next Rock Elemental and dashed it apart with his wooden hammer. Without stopping, Mortax continued smashing his way through the Rock Elementals one after another until he took a right turn outside of the gate and disappeared.

While no longer directly visible, the near clatter of debris against the Foothold walls and the enraged roars made it easy to roughly approximate where Mortax was.

Removing a mace from my belt, I sighed and turned to face the slowly approaching column of Rock Elementals that had broken through the southern garrison. Resisting the urge to charge, I calmly approached the nearest Rock Elemental and made an underhanded swing at its torso.

The Rock Elemental broke apart on impact. Its composite body creating difficult terrain for those attempting to take its place.

Reminded that the monsters were first Tier at best, I sighed again and began sweeping my mace from side to side while doing my best to avoid rolling my ankle on a loose chunk of rock.

By the time I reached the gate, Mortax had already made a pass on the outside, stemming the tide as he continued his clockwise massacre back towards the north gate.

No longer divided by the Rock Elementals, the scarred Elf and humans were able to regroup and repel the Gulch Elementals that had been taking advantage of their more durable cousins' distraction and had almost broken through.

My intervention had also given the Slaves a combat buff which made it that much easier for them to turn the tide.

After a second lap of the Foothold, Mortax brushed aside the Gulch Elementals still fighting at the north gate and began randomly wandering around the Foothold again as if nothing had happened. Unsure if his compartmentalisation of violent acts was admirable or disturbing, I wondered if Rikit was handling things any better on the third floor, and whether the city outside would be able to hold long enough for Ril to link a Gateway.

*****

First Commander Gregorovitch traced the eyepatch that now covered his empty right eye socket and trembled with rage as he recalled the ambush that had cost him his eye and the majority of his forces. Left with a little over thirty thousand troops, most of which were Slaves, Gregorovitch had been forced to retreat and wait for reinforcements from the empire.

Gregorovitch might have even lost his own life in the ambush if it hadn't been for his quick thinking in using Petyr as a human shield to intercept the majority of the enemy arrows.

The humiliation of having lost so many men with no real prize to show for it had cost Gregorovitch a great deal of prestige amongst his fellow Commanders. At best, Gregorovitch intended to break even by the end of the war, which was why he had agreed to the mustering call to siege the city of Laine.

While not privy to the precise details, Gregorovitch was well connected enough to learn that one or more of the noble houses within the city had been making plans to defect in exchange for keeping their titles. Gregorovitch found the situation rather amusing. There was a much greater chance that the traitorous nobles would be disposed of the moment they were no longer useful than for them to keep their titles and privileges. After all, why would the empire want to deliberately accept traitors into their ranks? And foreigners at that.

Each participating Commander was entitled to claim Slaves in accordance with their rank and contributions. As such, Gregorovitch was not going to pass the prime opportunity by, even if it meant working alongside a number of his long-time rivals.

It had been a surprise to Gregorovitch that a number of his fellow commanders, albeit of lower rank and prestige, had also been ambushed. The most devastated by these ambushes had been a Fifth Commander barely out of the academy and nephew of one of Gregorovitch’s rivals. It was a source of comfort to Gregorovitch’s blackened soul to learn that Fifth Commander Sokolov’s force had been entirely gutted.

Sokolov had somehow managed to lose every one of his Slave Masters, Slavers and Taskmasters in a single engagement, resulting in the complete loss of every one of his Slaves. The loss of prestige alone, without even considering the loss of his force’s combat effectiveness, had all but guaranteed the bumbling fool’s inevitable expulsion from the imperial military once the campaign was over.

As a close relation of Second Commander Sokolov, the Fifth Commander’s actions were almost certainly guaranteed to reflect poorly on his uncle’s campaign contributions as well. Such were the risks of allowing incompetent family members to take the field while hunting for profit and prestige for oneself.

Staring at the walls of the city from the vantage afforded by his mount, Gregorovitch wondered how much longer they would have to wait before storming the city. Surely, if the traitorous nobles inside were to serve as the means of entering the city relatively unscathed, it would not particularly matter how many Commanders were to gather for the siege. So long as they had atleast one soldier or Slave per twenty or so citizens, they would have more than enough men to keep the populace in line during the first stages of their Enslavement. Once the Enslavement of the populace had begun, then the remainder would be unable to defend against the overwhelming tide of Slaves dragging them to their own Enslavement.

It was a well-practised tactic that had withstood the test of time, originally developed and perfected in the empire’s original rise to power many centuries ago.

Sokolov had only made things worse for himself by claiming that his Slaves had been ‘stolen’ and that his Slavers had all died en masse. He even claimed that someone had nearly killed him with some sort of mental attack, and used the opportunity to steal his personal Slaves in the process.

It was, of course, preposterous. The Asrusians were notoriously weak-willed when it came to the divinely appointed right to take and use Slaves. As such, they had no Slavers or Slave Masters, making it impossible to have the Ability that would be required to ‘steal’ Slaves.

There was a chance that another rival of Sokolov’s uncle had made a disguised attempt at humiliating the boy, but it was incredibly unlikely. Committing so many forces to such a task would inevitably lead to rumours outing those involved, making it not worth the inevitable loss in prestige.

It was far more likely that Sokolov had been ambushed, and that his Slavers had been targetted in order to free the Slaves and generate chaos. Sokolov’s carelessness was to blame, not a phantom platoon of Asrusian Slave Masters.

Using the Asrusians' own road, they were making good time towards the distant city. Not in a particular rush, the soldiers were kept in prime condition while the Recon Teams screened against potential ambushes.

The lack of ambushes was a good sign that the traitorous nobles were acting in good faith. No doubt, they were actively threatening or otherwise disrupting the garrisoned enemy Commanders’ ability to effectively defend the city. Or, perhaps they had brought the poor fools in on their conspiracy under false pretences. Gregorovitch found that idea rather amusing in an ironic fashion, given that the nobles no doubt intended to dispose of the enemy Commanders in a similar fashion to how they themselves would be disposed of in turn.

As evening approached, the order to make camp was given by less zealous Commanders further back in the column. Unwilling to risk being ambushed, Gregorovitch had his newly appointed aide bring his own forces to a halt and begin setting up camp.

So far from his wife, Gregorovitch withdrew one of her parting letters from the satchel on his hip and took a moment to savour the sweet and familiar scent of her perfume before stowing it safely back in the satchel. Unlike other, lesser, Commanders, Gregorovitch did not take his deployment in enemy territory as an excuse for freely indulging carnal desires with Slaves.

Gregorovitch had several mistresses waiting for him back home, each personally selected by his wife. Going without baser pleasures for up to a year was a small price to pay in order to remain in his wife, and her father’s, good graces. Besides, a particularly willful Slave could inflict a fatal injury to the careless, and was known to happen from time to time while on the campaign.

It wasn’t always the pleasure Slave that inflicted the wound either, sometimes it was a combat Slave that had grown tired of living and just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Like all Slave Masters, Gregorovitch had endured the pain of defying Commands as part of his training to develop the necessary Willpower to control others. With no desire to feel that pain again, it had still left a lasting impression of what WIllpower would be required to take advantage of such an opportunity. Even with the commitment to die in the attempt, a Slavers laziness or incompetence would be to blame for allowing a Slave with such high Willpower to live.

Culling Slaves was one of the Slavers duties that often got overlooked while on the campaign. The losses amongst combat Slaves usually made it redundant. However, every so often, ‘accidents’ would occur and serve as a reminder, for a time, that the duty existed for a reason.

Watching the Slaves and soldiers erect his camp, Gregorovitch himself felt the same sense of apathy. All the same, he sent his aide to order the Slavers and Taskmasters to perform a thorough check of their inventory. If any Slaves possessed a dangerously high Willpower, Gregorovitch would make sure that they would be the first to probe for enemy ambushes on the morrow.