Duke Nathaniel sat upon The Throne of Marble, the throne of all the kings of First Kingdom of Aviria ever since the church took the original Throne Of The One Eye. The throne used by the first king and prophet.

Some would call it a brash and arrogant to sit upon this chair in the king’s stead, but Nathaniel didn’t care about that. To be honest he managed to convince the king to attend to matters in the city specifically to allow him to stand in for him during court.

He might be executed if the invaders breach the inner-city walls but at least he would have done this before he died.

Though he wasn’t exactly going to let that happen if he could stop it. And he had a chance with these promised “Assault Rifles”, “Machine Guns” and “Howitzers” that the little under creatures were making. Which of course will be going to the royal guards… And his own troops. He was the one handling the entire operation after all.

That and it seemed like the nobility was getting a little uppity right now. The court was in fact filled with the private muttering and nervous chatter of all the gathered nobility and retainers. And it would be nice if he could mow them all down like their enemy had been doing to them. It’d solve a lot of problems rather quickly.

But in the present, he had to deal with one of those problems, right now, as they’re currently grovelling at his feet.

“Sire! You have to divert some troops to our fiefdoms! Multiple villages are in open rebellion and could spread further if this heretical resurgence is not contained! Right now, before it roots itself!”

The red clothed noble had his head bowed; his voice shaky as he practically begged.

It was true, he’d been getting reports of the old heresy popping back up, hell, even one of the villages in his lands by the coast had apparently stopped paying taxes. Though it was not exactly as if he could deal with it while he was in the capital so he just had to hope his chancellor could deal with it.

The duke waved his hand, “I’ve heard of them, I’ve been affected by them, but I’m not sending vital troops back to my province, and I won’t do so for anyone else’s fiefs. The nobles will either have to deal with it themselves, or if they are here, have their subordinates do so. It’s an easy problem to crush and one the church should be getting involved in… Right?”

He turned his head over to Heigfal, his head also bowed and standing far away from the throne.

Heigfal cleared his throat, “Yes, it is. But our forces were drastically diminished by the battle at the bridge like yours. So, there is only so much we can do to help.”

A single, dry chuckle came from Nathaniel’s mouth, “Well, I’m leaving this issue in your hands, so if any of you gathered here are having a few issues with your serfs adopting heretical beliefs, go to Heigfal. For he will be organising all the forces that can be gathered to counter it.”

Heigfal, face blanched, the petitioner letting out a single “thank you,” before retreating away.

They all knew that it wouldn’t be an effective response to the situation, but it didn’t need to be. For once the enemy is on the back-foot they’d be able to divert some resources back and the serfs should remember their place rather quickly.

But there were, of course, more petitioners to deal with today. But they couldn’t all keep quiet for a week while they prepared their forces, could they?

He sighed, watching another petitioner step forwards, this one being the city’s bailiff.

He was also visibly nervous, collapsing into a deep bow before the throne. “Sire, we have a problem.”

“We have many problems, so please be a bit more specific…”

The bailiff swallowed, “We’re getting an influx of refugees to the city. A fair number of them and the city watch is getting skittish.”

“Well, how many?”

“How many what?”

He rolled his eyes, “Refugees!”

“There are… There’s two thousand of them in the city already that the king accepted in and there are an extra one thousand on their way to the city…”

Nathaniel clenched his fist. Of course, the “benevolent” king would let that many people into the city while they were at threat of getting into a long siege… But there was only one fix for it.

“Tell all of the incoming refugees to go to the east, where the prince is rumoured to be, he may need more conscripts if we fall. And tell any of the ones already in the city that they are free to do the same.”

“R-right my lord. I will attend to it…”

And with that they moved away, blending back into the crowd as they made their way out.

Yet again he had to wonder to himself about all of this. Why couldn’t people make it easier for him and just do what was needed rather than needing to come to him with what should be done. The solutions were obvious. But he supposed they didn’t all have his mind…

So, he’d just have to get through the rest of these petitioners, one by facking one. All until he could get to the important decisions he’d have to make. With one particular one standing strong in his mind…

 

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The ambushes so far, it turned out, had not been quite as successful as they were hoping. The map in front of the duke in his quarters showed that with its litany of red crosses.

They had managed to affect a semi effective one in their first attempt, with the survivors reporting that they had managed to take out one of their vehicles. Though those survivors barely got out when their “Tanks” arrived.

The other ambushes they tried to launch however had completely failed in their entirety, as the enemy more reliably sent out scouts to clear out any position, where they could launch one from. It was frustrating to say the least and worrying at the most.

Needless to say that the delaying force was now struggling to figure out how to proceed. They had bought a bit of time, but the enemy was due to just get to the capital before their new weapons started to roll out in number.

But there was light on the horizon as their smithies had managed to produce one of the weapons that under creatures had sent them schematics for. That being a much-improved cannon that could affect far better results in a battle against infantry, and an improved rifled handgun.

Rifling was new to gunsmiths, but not extremely new. One or two notable craftsmen had made one offs for hunting as commissioned by nobles with the concept discovered in the kingdom itself. But there were only a handful of these weapons until now.

Now they had seventy of those weapons either newly created or modified from existing guns. But all of them were to be shipped off with eight of those new cannons to a town overlooking a section of farmland and the main road leading to the capital. A place the enemy could not ignore due to the chance of ambush or for it being a potential thorn in their side from which rear line attacks could be made.

A perfect spot to delay the enemy as much as possible to stop their advance for just a bit longer. Just enough time to allow them to get the weapons they needed for a proper defence.

But of course, the enemy could just destroy it with fire from the sky. An act of vengeance they had used against many forts and castles. However, notably, only ones that were far away from population centres. And in a rather painful attack against a gunpowder industrial estate their metal birds had hit everything other than the ones the serfs and citizens had been in.

It was a weakness of theirs that could be exploited and must be done to make sure it worked.

They’d keep all of the population in the town walking around as normal but still keep a visible military presence. Telling their enemy that they can’t use their most powerful weapons on there without killing the inhabitants, but that there was also a military presence that must be dealt with.

From there they would be dragged into an infantry fight, one where their fougasses, guns and cannons could cause pain and hurt on them. The sort that would require their army to halt to lick its wounds and re-group before continuing onwards.

It was a rather nice plan if he did say so himself. Though it would require the field commanders to play ball despite the danger. But that wouldn’t be much of an issue.

The amount of blackmail he had managed to dig up on his fellow noblemen was quite astounding. Affairs, corruption, perverse hobbies…

Though some would call his own hobby perverse. Though the people who ever got close to saying that often ended up being involved in it if they liked it or not. That usually kept it from ever getting out and having the others judge him on it.

Though of course, they could not see why he was doing it. So, they always had visceral and negative reactions to it. A shame…

But there were other issues on his plate to deal with.

He sighed, bringing out his logbook and flipping to the very end of it.

With sorrow he noted the slowly stagnating income whose grow slowed every month. Though that could also be easily fixed by sending some gold reserves covertly down the river as he arranged for some “evacuations” of valuable items of cultural significance.

After all, only a fool doesn’t plan for the possibly of his own defeat. And if he was defeated in the capital, he’d need all he could get together in his own fief.

From there he could hold off the hoards before they ran out of material and he could strike back, taking the kingdom back as its new king.

He laid back, chuckling to himself.

Oh, to be king. To be praised and lorded with an entire kingdom under his control. One that he could reform into a centralised state with true authority. Not like how it was now with all of the bickering lords, oh no. This would be a kingdom of order and efficiency. One that could crush its rivals with a professional army armed with assault rifles and howitzers.

From the sands of the south to the tundra of the north, Aviria would be united as one continent. The men of all of the civilised kingdoms then therefore poised to conquer the lesser kingdoms and barbarian tribes across the rest of the known world and beyond.

And he! He would be it’s first king! Its uniter! Its saviour! Its Emperor!

Some would say it would be bold ambitions, but many would say the same of the first Prophet as well. And all of his nay sayers were crushed under his boot heel. And so, it would be with his as well.

He could already imagine the heraldry of this empire… A glistening golden eye in the centre of the continent coloured purple, set against the night of the rest of the world. It’s royal guard all emblazoned with that golden eye on their armour, with purple plumes and their faces concealed under their helmets. All completely loyal to him, even if it would require them to die to the last man.

But the obstacle to all of this. The invaders from “Chin” with their weapons and vehicles.

He’d lost to them in his first battle and lost badly.

But that one ambush proved they were not invincible.

And when copies of their own weapons start gunning them down in the tight city streets, they would surely crumble. After assuming all this time that they would have no opponents they would finally be faced with a peer and would flee! Oh, what a sight to behold!

He would gain victory through this battle or through his backup plan. Either way he was winning this war and coming out on top of the system of this kingdom.

He chuckled to himself again, picking up a decanter of wine and pouring himself a glass of the blood red liquid.

He stared at it, blacker than the night.

And he felt at peace as his mind affirmed himself of what would surely be the outcome of all of this. Wondering what the blood of the strange daemon that fell from the sky would look like.

Him drinking this while back on the throne as everyone bowed towards him as the saviour of the world.

What a nice title…

 

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Emilia looked up at the sky with it’s unfamiliar constellations and sighed.

They were close to finishing their long march but there was still a fair bit to go.

But she didn’t need to worry about it for now as she relaxed with their squad tonight.

It had become somewhat of a regular thing to have rests like these where the entire squad would just light up a fire if they could and lay back. Playing music and eating the little treats they had not eaten from their rations.

Their squad had managed to stay entirely intact this entire campaign surprisingly. All ten of them. Corporal Kenneth and Lance Corporal Alexandra as the NCOs. Zachary and Juliet as the grenadiers. Yarrik and Keith as the squad automatic rifleman. Louis as the marksmen. Then finally leaving her, Henry and Piper as the riflemen slash ammo bearers.

It was quite a packed squad and while she did know all of their names now, she didn’t really “know” all of them yet.

But either way it was nice to be with them, despite what could happen…