Biracial Edgelord Can't Make Immortal : Power of Ten, Book Seven

BECMI Chapter 344 – A-conquering We will not Go...



“It is probably not a good idea to call out an elf on the topic of the capabilities of large numbers of warrior-mages, Marshal,” I informed Prince Drakkar von Jaggenfel, Grand Marshal of Zanzyr and uptight fascist warmonger. “If you go out a-conquering, unless Zanzyr’s powerful Wizards go with you, the armies will end up butchered if the enemy commanders have half a brain.

“After all, you’ve had the perfect opponents in all directions for decades to go and invade, Prince von Jaggenfel. They are stupid, brutish, hate civilized peoples, have numbers, and very little magic. Why don’t you just start sweeping the mountains clear of orcs, goblins, ogres, trolls, gnolls, and whatnot, and expand Zanzyr’s borders that way? Why, the mineral wealth alone would make the fighting worth it, would it not?” I set down my teacup and pushed it away. “You amuse yourself with a parody of disguise in the court of the orc king Holk of the Bleaklands, for some reason thinking that it would be entertaining for them to invade the dwarves of Rukheim, instead of using that intelligence for Zanzyr’s benefit. What do you think of the efforts Erendyl has been undertaking there?”

His expression was wary now as I changed the focus to him, and how I knew of his mucking around in the court of the most powerful horde leader of the Bleaklands. “Erendyl has been sheltering dwarfes. Dwarfes… who can use magic!” he stated, dabbing at his upper lip slowly while he watched me carefully for a reaction.

“Who, by law, are thus welcome in Zanzyr,” I waved dismissively. “I see you are impressed by their record of battle?” I deflected easily.

He hesitated. The nifloids didn’t have the greatest intelligence network, and reports were more rumors than official… but it was plain that the elves, dwarves, and human Rangers working there had slaughtered thousands of goblins and orcs and at least a dozen hordes come raging to reinforce them against the invaders.

Unlike the battles against human counter-raids, these fights had gone into the ground and cave systems of the Bleaklands. The fighting there had gone worse, if anything, for the natives. On top of killing the nifloids and driving them away, those cave networks were then sealed up, with no trace remaining of how to get back into them, shrinking the nifloids’ territory and denying them their infamous tactic of retreating to their caves and then surging forth later with raw numbers from hidden tunnels and the like.

They didn’t have secure fallback points and shielded lairs from the troops there. The repeated crushing attacks and raids into what they had thought were their safest areas had proven that time and again.

It was like we had learned from our previous fights against them and didn’t care to repeat the same mistakes over and over. If that meant trying new tactics, that was exactly what we were going to do.

Brains, duh, use them, duh.

“The reports I heard were somewhat excitable and oferblown, as is typical ov safages like the orcs,” he sniffed haughtily. “Still, King Holk has been reluctant to commit a major vorce to the attack, goading the other hordes to test their strength and see how competent the infaders are…”

And finding them rather excessively competent, indeed. A whole Moorian dwarf-clan had up and moved into the area being cleared after immigrating before the Doom, and was now energetically cleaning up, fortifying, and beginning the exploitation of both the surface and subterranean assets of the area. They didn’t have all the tools and technology they’d had access to for the last fifty years to do all of that, but were determined to rebuild even greater than before, and were making strides in doing so!

“You have a deep-seated desire to show Zanzyr’s power off to the world, and to bring the rule of wizards to everyone and everywhere. You are also not a fool and know deep in your heart that is not possible. Zanzyr’s enemies are too great in number, the power of one of the great established Churches alone is probably enough to roll right over the country, and its spellcasters are outnumbered and outmatched by the power and persistence of those outside its borders.

“Persisting in these desires will draw the attention of Delpha, which has more Archmages than Zanzyr has Wizards. I am presuming that Zanzyr wants to avoid drawing the attention of Delpha at all costs.”

He eyed me unblinkingly for a long moment, then exuded a long breath. “Delpha is fery var away…” he began unwillingly.

“And only one step, for a wizard,” I finished Thaum’s Analect of Teleportation, again.

His reluctance was written on his face, but Truth was chipping holes in his pride and arrogance. “So, you presume to write a new course ov military ambition vor me?” he half-cursed, half-grunted resentfully and fatalistically.

“Zanzyr doesn’t even control all the land within its own borders, let alone being able to control the land outside of it,” I sniffed. “I propose you redefine your own role as is appropriate for a nascent nation-state whose ambitions currently exceed its ability. Clamp down on the ambitious and make them serve well and willingly for themselves.

“Zanzyr is not Siricil. Short victorious wars mean nothing to wizards or to its people. What you want is safety, reliability, and productivity. These are not things the people of Zanzyr get to see often, either from incessant raiders or from the mentally unstable among their rulers.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“If you want to go a-conquering, I suggest you move to Siricil. They would absolutely love to employ you as a conquering warlord there. You’d just have to put up with taking orders from a non-wizard Emperor and Senate.”

He looked offended and unfortunately interested at the same time. They were indeed exactly his kind of people, and he had relatives there, the result of a weird mix of Delphan and Siricilan ancestry in his family.

But it also meant he was finally realizing that he might just not be a major player, just an Archmage playing with toys that could come back to bite him in the arse.

“What are you recommending I do, then?” he snapped aloofly, clearly not about to think much on what I was going to recommend.

“Change your focus from a Field Marshal to a Shield Marshal.” He blinked. “Your wizards don’t care to go a-conquering, then fine. Defend them, and in doing so, defend the average person. Secure all the lands of Zanzyr, not merely those claimed by a Titled Ruler. If you want Zanzyr to be a great nation, then it has to grow, it has to be safe, and it has to be secure. It has to prove its worth, not merely the prejudices of its wizards, to the other nations of the world.

“It’s not doing any of that. You don’t even defend your own lands adequately, and you want to go invading others?

“You could build outposts and walls, erect wards, fortify towns and villages, set down good roads, train militias, and turn Zanzyr into a fortified bastion of civilization for the rest of your life. Staying busy should be simplicity itself, and if something comes to invade Zanzyr, you should have the terrain, the timing, and the resources available to crush them.

“At this stage, you don’t have any of that. You have the glory of powerful Casters going at it, and may the best Archcaster win. It is a singularly unimpressive view of the nation.”

He was stung by my assessment, but at the same time, I wasn’t far wrong. There was more unclaimed land within the borders of Zanzyr than there was claimed. Exactly why was he bothering to go running around to claim more land when he didn’t have control of their own, particularly in the west?

His expression was serious as he studied the Holo of Zanzyr atop the table between us, all the areas claimed by Titled Nobles lit up, and all the ‘free’ areas were blackened and unknown.

It was rather embarrassing, really.

To set the facts off, I set up lights in areas, over three-quarters of them in areas not under fiefdoms. He watched them come up, and frowned as he considered what they belonged to.

“The wizards who were attacked?” he deduced shortly.

“Ah, about a third of the lights include them? Mostly, it’s about where reserves of a hundred undead or more were buried and ready to be called upon as forces. Multiple lights, multiple companies. Stronger undead, brighter lights.”

His expression became gloomier as he considered all those lights, and helplessly began adding up the numbers.

There were indeed considerably more of them than the national army!

“Indeed, I am curious as to why someone in dire need of manpower for his dreams never turned to undead troops. Savaging a few humanoid hordes would give you all the corpses you need, after all…” I began with just the right tone of disdain.

“The clerics of Tukhman proved repeatedly capable ov handling any number of basic undead troops sent against them, as Prince Morphail learned time and again,” he replied immediately, actually referencing his own published works. “Yet another reason why Morphail despises clerics so,” he said leadingly, clearly hinting at my grandfather’s actual nature. “Base undead are slow, lack initiatife, and are unable to adapt to battle conditions or changes. They are only effectife iv you can trap an enemy in an area they cannot retreat vrom.

“This changes with more powerful undead, but such are much more divvicult to maintain control ov… and necromancers make poor ovvicers to living troops, as the soldiers know such think ov them as little more than more undead waiting to be Animated.

“In any efent, running them into any vorce with clerical support means they will be broken quickly. Successful use ov undead basically infolfes small units ov incorporeals, or sending them against peasants or superstitious vools in the dark ov night. Unless they outnumber and keep their enemies vrightened, undead troops haf too many fulnerabilities to use as anything other than reserfe surprises or arrow vodder.”

Well, he believed his own writings, at least! “And conversely, that makes them remarkably effective in Zanzyr, which has no clerics to be rid of them, wizards don’t dwell in areas undead can attack easily, and the lack of martial tradition means the average commoner is less able to fight even basic skeletons or zombies. It is rather amusing that their effectiveness here colors the perceptions of necromancers to think they are effective everywhere.” I didn’t hide my appreciation of the irony of the situation.

“This is why I adfocate vor lifing troops who can actually use weapons! If more elfes would folunteer for national devense!…” he began with some zeal.

I just batted my eyes lazily at his digging for support for his ambitions. “Your desire to wage war is not national defense, Your Highness. Erendyl’s strength basically secures the entire southeastern flank of Zanzyr. The seconded Banners of Fuireze whine and complain whenever they have to go out on patrol and actually fight raiders, and Iendyl’s infantry have morale to rival goblins.” Not unexpected in a land where normal warriors were just disposable damage sponges to their wizardly masters.

“There haf been numerous complaints lodged against Erendyl vor its aggressively stirring up the tribes ov the Bleaklands, particularly the orcs,” he noted, not without some approval. “We haf not declared war on them, avter all…”

“Tch.” It was a casual dismissal of his words and the insinuations behind them. The elves could get their war, but he could not? “Do you think Lhamsa is not constantly skirmishing with the Tukhman nomads? Did Morphail whine that they were stirring up the horsemen? The tribes of humanoids press on Zanzyr from all sides, constantly raiding when they think they can get away with it, and Joth-Sunist and Kitchat whine about the troops at Kristneth never doing all their fighting for them, despite being given ample warning of raids incoming and their locations?”

Belle’s older son Kwendar actually headed up the troops at Camp Kristneth, but most of the troops he commanded were humans from Fuireze and Iendyl, who were of poor quality and didn’t like having an elvish commander with an aggressive streak… or who was an elf at all, especially as the two Princes were of hostile Siricilan and Delphan ancestry.

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