Shovels In Spades

"Following your orders, Your Majesty, I had General William Retford create several scout teams from his more resourceful soldiers as well as some of our citizens who signed up to work under him, the ones with some interest in the field of reconnaissance," Crosius said then paused briefly.

He smiled proudly upon seeing Daz paying attention and then continuing with, "Four teams have been established; Team Boreon, Team Foreun, Team Poleon, and team Jureon. Apparently, each team name means something in the general's home language, but I doubt it's anything important."

He coughed softly then said, "What is important, Your Majesty, is that each team reported the same thing upon being assigned a mission to investigate the monsters."

Daz frowned lightly. "You have a horrible habit of over-detailing or over-explaining things. Could you please get to the point, Crosius?"

The old man's face went red with shame. He was just glad that Lyle wasn't present to witness him being reprimanded by Daz so... bluntly like this.

"My apologies, Your Majesty. You're absolutely right. Ahem, according to our scout teams the monsters have begun forming groups centred around powerful leader-type creatures. The leading monster varies from group to group but each one seems keen to inhabit abandoned human structures and settlements," Crosius claimed.

He reached into his robes and pulled out an archaic-looking scroll. Daz didn't understand why the man insisted on using perfectly good paper that just looked ancient instead of modern-looking paper, but the reaper had never really cared for things of the aesthetic sense, so he never questioned the old man vocally, only mentally.

Crosius humbly walked up the throne's steps and handed the parchment to his king. "Here are the more in-depth details, but the only other thing of critical import, Your Majesty, would be that the monsters led by the leader-types seem to hold some intelligence and won't actively hunt humans. Perhaps there is some potential there?"

"Maybe," Daz tapped his chin as he held the scroll in his hands. "Anything else, or is that it?"

"That would be it, Your Majesty. There are, of course, more appointments lined up for you to proceed over complaints and suggestions in the coming days, but that is nothing new," Crosius replied as he stepped down and assumed a slightly bowed position.

Daz nodded. "Thanks. I'll read this over. Could you send for Greg? I heard he's returned. I bet he's eager to get his next set of orders."

"Of course, Your Majesty. I shall see to it immediately." And with that, the head advisor of the keep left the audience chamber.

Daz sat there on his throne of iron as he opened the scroll and began reading its contents. "Passive if led, huh? There's potential there... Maybe I should invest the time and resources into scouting for tamer-type class holders? If I recall correctly, quite a few of our citizens have classes like that due to being in the middle of playing with their pets or walking their dogs... Hmm..."

"I mean, is this Daz guy really that amazin'?" one of the two people sat next to Greg in the throne room's waiting area asked.

Greg had a soft and well-trimmed beard now and he was donning what seemed to be his old general uniform though with a few modifications like a metal right pauldron and some steel plating around the thighs and ribs.

The former U.S. general turned to look at the man that had spoken, a man of roughly 30-years who had a strange looking frying pan with runes all over it strapped to his back.

"Why does it matter?" Greg asked in response.

"You helped us, not him," the man answered with a shrug. "Sure, he's supposedly really strong and he's brought together all of Cali, but I mean, c'mon, I bet he's actually a dick."

The other man on Greg's other side snorted. "I don't care if he's the Devil or God himself. I only take orders from you, General."

This second man was roughly 40-years-old or so and he had a long-brimmed hat lazily sat atop his head. He had a southern Australian accent as well though it was evident that he'd been far from home for some time judging by his lack of homebrew lingo. Hanging at his hip was a curved sword- a damascus steel one - of all things.

Greg sighed. "You two... Just don't piss him off."

"Sure, Boss," the younger of the two men replied.

"Whatever you say, General," the Australian responded.

"His Majesty will see you now, Greg Miller," A keep servant said as she approached the three and bowed politely.

"Thanks, lead the way," Greg replied. 'Was the interior of the keep always so... grand? Maybe I just didn't notice it before due to the alcohol pumping through my veins... I really have to thank Daz for his clone. It was gone half of the time, yeah, but when it was watching me it did an amazing job of destroying any liquor I ever found or bought... A waste, sure, but it's kept me off the hooch for a whole month now...'

With that lingering thought, Dorian's father got up and followed the servant with his two closest new recruits trailing just behind him.

"Nice to see you again, Greg. You look a lot healthier," Daz said upon seeing the man again for the first time in 4-weeks.

While he retained newly-learned skills from clones, the reaper did not acquire new memories from the Death Energy constructs, sadly. So while he knew what Gamma did from the clone's own recounting of events, Daz hadn't actually seen the man in front of him since the last time they were both in this very throne room.

"You too, Daz," Greg answered in a surprisingly respectful tone.

'Oh? Gamma mentioned that he'd gotten quieter since he started rescuing people and hiring them as soldiers, but he's being nice to me? That's new,' Daz thought before he asked, "Do you mind if I identify you? I'd like to see your personal progress. Your gun too. It doesn't look different aside from that... under-barrel? But I assume you fulfilled my order and made a more viable weapon out of it regardless."

Greg nodded. "Go ahead. I don't mind."

His two accompanying men didn't seem overjoyed by Daz's request but since the former-general had accepted they hardly had any room to complain about it.

First Daz used Higher Identification on Greg himself though he made sure to ask the system to omit the essay on how the man had ruined his family from his description.