Apocalypse Reborn: Academy: 6

Apocalypse Reborn: Academy: 6

…

The Conquerors took the enforced ceasefire seriously, while the Children of the Elm declared that no one tells them what to do, and picked a fight against the Academy.

The Academy with a Citadel under its belt.

Yeah.

Not very surprised by the headlines on the local news.

“Couldn’t happen to better people.” The Academy had a strict policy against any budding nations on its boarders that couldn’t read the room.  That was to eradicate them from existence, and I happily made sure that those genocidal gardeners got fucked over. “When can we expect an update on how battles are faring with the new troops?”

“Within a few days, but I expect that the results will be the same.” Ayah nodded and gestured at the reports she’d gone through and summarized in neat handwriting. Not only was it difficult to find someone who can read and write to hire for my private organization, it was also hard as hell to find one that could write well. Going through all the reports would be horrific without the Ancient Administrator. “The Children of the Elm will be trampled underfoot, they will hold their Citadel, but they will be beaten through sheer numbers. The reprisal for their impudence will go in accordance to precedence. The people will be put the sword and their culture and traditions ended.”

“I’ll try and convince Alistair to keep the younger ones alive, and keep some of their discoveries with us, but that’s probably the most I can manage.” I didn’t want any of their upper leadership or influential figures. They picked a fight with the Academy while it had a Citadel under its control. The upper leadership wasn’t worth keeping around. “How are the new troops? Are they implementing the tactical doctrines we drafted up that Alistair stole along with the weapons?”

“They are. You were correct. There was much resistance amongst the mercenaries armed with the weapons, until their minders reminded them it was provided by the Headmaster.” That was another bonus to having my developed firearms falling into Alistair’s hands. The doctrines and strategies that come with them were backed by him. Since he controlled the mercenaries through their purse strings, they were liable to listen to him than a ‘young prodigy’ learning under him. Proper yourself up all you like, I don’t care about credit. I want as many people adopting firearms and proper strategies using them asap. “After his missive was sent out and new commissars were placed, they complied and saw great success.”

“And, how many of the firearms are being sold to the highest bidder?”

“They are finding their way to the Forgers. Their lands are across the continent from where the fighting is happening.”

“Good.” This was the best exhibition of firepower that I could ask for and it was courtesy of a rat bastard and a bunch of genocidal maniacs. The mercenary companies are going to get decimated once Alistair finds out, but I wasn’t selling the weapons or telling them to do it. My hands were free of the weapons and the entire war the moment I got grounded by Alistair. It just so happened that the Academy had no reason to not respond to a war being declared on them, and you could count on the Children of the Elm to be rat bastards 99.99% of the time. “If they have it, so should everyone else.”

“I estimate that with the proliferation of these weapons, this land will have a fighting chance, but only as long as industry continues to rise.” Ayah picked up on my next question before I asked. I decided to stand up and stretch my legs. The Citadel provided a pretty good chair and the office was pretty sparse. I’d managed to get one over Alistair by selling the place as a production center, so he thought exiling me over here was sending me to live in the boonies surrounded by ancient machines. Bitch, I’m eating better than you and I can keep anyone I want out with literal terminators. “The acquisition of a second Citadel will raise the efficacy of both. Alistair is unlikely to give you control over both, but he will most certainly not ignore the strength that comes from binding the two together. The issue lies with whom he gives it to.”

“Yep, we’ll need to keep an eye on that. Keep an ear on the ground on who’s succeeding… but, you might actually be wrong. Alistair’s pride might keep him from giving it to anyone else besides me.” That statement earned me a raised eyebrow from the Ancient Adimistrator posing as a tanned young woman with short, black hair. Yeah, it's showing off some outrageous curves, but the appeal of that is mitigated with the knowledge it’s literally all stone. “Can you imagine him elevating anyone to be on the same level as his successor. Someone who’s only second to him? And, of course, who else can he trust to work their ass off in exchange for getting sassed?”

“The person, I suppose, who allows him to take all the credit for his own work?”

“Yep.” Alistair sees me as his heir. The only one with a brain that can match his, even if his was better. That was on purpose. After knowing the guy for a few months, I knew that he had a massive stick up his ass and an ego the size of the moon. If I proved myself better than him, then he’d put me down because I’m a threat. If I was subservient, knew my place, and talented, then he’d make use of me, and ensure that I didn’t fuck up his legacy. Right. He’s the kind of guy that sees a kid as a way for him to continue his work past death. I’m sure that he knows I’m kissing his ass, but he’s underestimating just what I plan to do after he starts letting his guard down. If you think you’re going to get rejuvenated back to youthfulness, buddy, you’re an absolute fool. “That’s the gist of it. I could be wrong, though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind while investigating.” Ayah followed me to the balcony. With a thought, I made a chair and a table and a shade cast on me. In a few seconds, water and freshly-grown fruit was being put by my side by a skittering, pure-white terminator made of knives. It’s honestly kinda freaky how well those things can move and articulate themselves when they’re mostly bladed edges. “What are you planning to do while I do my duties?”

I wish that I could say that I’d sit back, relax, and ignore my exile from the Academy.

But we both knew I couldn’t waste my time.

“Find and exploit opportunities, while building up the city. Maybe, hunt down some treasure, if I’m feeling cut out for it. Nothing that’ll reach Alistair’s ears, of course.”

That guy’s not going to suspect a thing, until he’s six feet under.

…

Interlude: Crusher

…

The might of the Academy was without question.

We knew that from the very beginning.

Yet, still, we found ourselves losing spirit at what was unleashed upon our foes.

Conquest lingered by my side, as we watched the destruction of the Children of the Elm from a hilltop far from the horizon… with those of the Academy who decided to watch simply for their own enjoyment.

The aristocracy of the Academy were all over the hilltop and they watched the battle beyond us whilst guarded by a troop of mercenaries they founded together. Over fifteen families chose to indulge themselves and watch the battle with binoculars, with former mercenary commanders explaining the battle to them, and as servants came and went from tents and wagons to provide shade, food, and other such things.

Conquest had rankled at the sight of the viewing party, of their obscene display of wealth when so many others suffered all over the continent, but we could not raise a hand against them.

So, with them as our neighbors, we watched the battle unfold beyond us.

No.

We watched the massacre unfold.

“Twenty men wide and five men deep. They fall back after firing their shot and reload.” I viewed the battle as well, but instead of entertainment, I searched for any sort of weakness that I could find. We followed them across their many battles across the Children of the Elm’s territory to find some sort chink in their armor. “The first two lines fire, retreat, and the next line comes forward. 2 fire, 1 fires, and then 2 again.”

“There is a gap between the volleys in this troop. They are a younger mercenary band.” Conquest replied stiffly as she watched the battle in the horizon. “The right flank of the Children of the Elm has been routed. The Academy’s flank is using the same flanking maneuver to create a half-pocket.”

The Academy deployed their rifles in long lines of a hundred men each. Each division had ten squares of rifles that moved under the command of an officer and his seconds. They were given a degree of freedom that the Academy forces didn’t have, being allowed to pursue, to flank, and to even withdraw, as long as it followed their orders from the start of battle. That made them flexible, capable of backing off in the face of a charge, coordinating with their neighboring unit, and focusing fire upon the enemy.

There was one thing worse than a constant hail of fire upon one’s front line, and that was fire from the front and the side at once.

This was a new unit, and they coordinated poorly compared to those with experience, yet they remained lethal enough to give anything that they faced pause.

“The left flank is failing, as well. A pocket is forming. This battle is at its end.” Conquest relayed, and I saw the same thing. In the distance, like jaws of a mighty beast, the center of the Children of the Elm’s force was being swallowed. In all the battles I’ve watched. The center of every formation was destroyed utterly, while those on the fringes survived gravely wounded. The retreat of the flanks would usually cause the morale of the center to plummet, and they would be likely to run as fire reached them from where they could not react, but by the time the order to retreat would be given… the Academy’s forces would be firing from three sides, with retreat as the only option to not be fired upon.

They could encircle the enemy, but time and time again they did not, because to do so would drive the enemy to fight to the bitter end.

No, the Academy wanted them to run, to retreat against orders, and to die with bullets embedded in their backs.

A horn resounded from the battlefield, and once I heard it, I knew that the battle was over.

The lines of rifles kept up their fire, but the auxiliaries waiting on the wings began to move. Ground and aerial cavalry moved to give pursuit, and to further ensure that the Children of the Elm on the field of battle today would not see the next day.

The heavy cavalry stayed behind, watchful for any changes in the tempo of battle, but the light cavalry went forth to run wild.

“It’s the same tactic as we’ve seen before.” Conquest spoke of the wheel-like movement employed by the light cavalry. It was akin to horse archery, but far more devastating. Horses and their riders neared the mass of retreating Children of the Elm, found targets, and fired their weapons. Instead of bullets, their weapons fired small pellets, to increase chances of hitting. After they fired, they turned about and left to ride and reload, while their companions did the same. Shoot the enemy, ride away, reload, and shoot once more, like an ever-turning wheel. Once the enemy was broken down enough, they drew cavalry sabers and cut them down. They mauled any retreating force, while the execution was carried out by their companions from the sky. “This battle is over.”

Small bombs filled with alchemical reagents dropped from horses. The mechanism that dropped them was unknown to us, but we did know that the bombs had fuses just long enough to explode over the heads of the Academy’s foes, and cover them with searing shrapnel and the same, small metal pellets used by the ground cavalry. The small pellets, beyond the ability to mass produce by blacksmiths, were being made through the Citadel.

We could do it ourselves, but our scholars still puzzled over the intricacies of the Ancient machines.

The Academy, meanwhile, used them to their fullest extent.

“Once more, it is a victory for the Academy.” The deployment of the ground cavalry on the flanks and the aerial cavalry from above sealed the fate of the Children of the Elm on this battlefield. All pretense of a formation, even amongst those desperate to retreat with the aid of comrades, died under the onslaught of additional fire. The rifle infantry, meanwhile, was advancing with bayonets attached and taking no prisoners. They ended the lives of those that faced them with mechanical precision. Yes. Instead of a group of warriors with a singular goal led by a war chief, the Academy made a machine of men and material fit for slaughtering others. “The Citadel of the Children of the Elm is theirs.”

It was already there in the distance.

In a matter of months, what we could not achieve in a year was within the Academy’s reach.  I had no reason to doubt that the Children of the Elm will fall in the near future, that the Academy will soon not only have its cesspit of a nation hidden in the center of the continent, but also two treasured gifts from the Ancients.

Our dreams of retribution, of bringing them low and abolishing their cruelty and machinations across the continent, were now truly, simply dreams.

The Academy is beyond us, and without even fighting against them, we have been humbled.

But… that was only for now.

Conquest and I will learn from this, as all others did, and we will search for allies and friends amongst those who also oppose the Academy.

One day, in the near future, we will find the strength to face them.