Chapter 85: Breaking Ground (Patreon)

“How in the Abyss did you manage to get so wounded fighting these scrubs?” Grant muttered, cutting Calvin’s pants off of him and inspecting the burns that wound up his leg and back.

“Three at a time, without Bent.” Calvin said, puffing up his chest a little. “Had to save as much as I could for the plan.”

“Yeah, but these guys were average soldiers. Beating three of them doesn’t really impress me.”

“Bah, you’re just talking out your ass, being bigger and stronger than everyone by default. I only have ten strength.” Calvin said, jabbing his own chest. Ten strength was pretty close to the minimum for a third Break soldier. “I kicked ass.”

“like watching a couple of girls slap-fighting, I imagine.”

“Pfft,” Calvin scoffed as the general’s blade went through his other pant-leg. “Slap fight? I gutted a guy.”

“Good job.” He said patronizingly, tearing Calvin’s pants away in a manner that yanked on the gooey burned flesh of the back of his leg, forcing a yelp out of him.

“Plan hasn’t changed, has it?” Grant asked as Calvin swaddled his now exposed groin in a sand pirate loincloth.

“Nah, One month or less. That’s all I expect from them, and it’s all I’m paying for, either.”

“Good, ‘cuz it’s all you could afford.” Grant said, cutting off Calvin’s upper uniform for good measure. It was best to be sure to wear the team’s colors whenever possible.

Calvin didn’t want to get attacked by an opportunistic merc for no reason.

He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Orson’s main force approaching at full tilt, kicking up dust as they ran.

“Looks like your mercenaries are about to earn their pay.” Calvin said

“Ayup,” Grant said as the Uleisan mercenaries took the walls around them, clearing the dead and wounded off the rough stone surfaces before taking their places.

The numbers were nearly even, and Calvin’s mercenaries had the better position.

The nearby mercenaries spotted the unfamiliar Calvin standing beside their employer, and noted his appearance before continuing on with their tasks, with only a couple minutes before they were attacked.

“Do they need anything?” Calvin asked, to which Grant shook his head. “I hired the Seven Wastes company because they’re professional. They’re not going to need any help from you keeping this place, and they’ll keep it until the terms of the agreement are up. Just don’t get in their way.

“Excellent.” Calvin said, before pointing at southwest tower. “I’m going to start working in the basement of that building. Keep them out of it.”

“Got it.”

“And if you’re getting overwhelmed by them, scream really loud.”

They shouldn’t get overwhelmed. Walls drastically increase the ratio of men it takes to capture an area. Even numbers means the attackers are at a huge disadvantage.

Grant snorted.

Calvin started hobbling away from the wall, unable to hide his limp as the burnt skin stretched and oozed.

Damn, this hurts. Calvin thought, hobbling toward the courtyard. As the mercenaries streamed to and fro around him, Calvin got down to the steel cages, looking for something to feed the starving elder.

Sure enough, there was some unidentified meat held limply in the hand of one of the corpses, who’d been sitting at the outdoor mess.

Calvin walked up and grabbed the food before heading back.

Wait. Don’t feed him that.

“Wait what?”

Get some of the broth from the soup over there, water it down with a bit of water and feed that to him, no chunks or anything, just broth.

“Why? I’m not trying to starve him more.”

Long time ago, people got starved like that. when they were fed normal food, their bodies went into shock and died…or something like that. He’s so starved that his body won’t be able to process good food. You’ll have to start with something light.

“Hmm, Okay.” Calvin moved to one of the Cobalts strapped to a chair, one of the healthier looking specimens, with dark blue and green skin with a deep shine, unlike most of the others here, It had quills that were short and stubby from repeated pruning, going from fur-like needles above its brow to nail-thick spines along its back.

“Good afternoon Cobalt.” Calvin said. “I’d like to propose an alliance between your people and mine.”

“Cobalts will never trust humans again.” He said.

“Hmm…” Calvin idly took a bite of the mystery meat, stopping his chewing after a moment, a sudden realization dawning on him. “This isn’t Cobalt or human is it?” He asked.

“It’s skipper.”

“Oh, cool,” Calvin said, taking another bite.

“Skipper was my wife.”

Calvin coughed out a pinkie sized chunk of flesh and flung the leg aside, fighting the sudden urge to retch.

“Hah, dumbass human!” The cobalt rattled against the collar holding it in place. 

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair,” Calvin muttered. “I don’t even know what Cobalt tastes like…”

He pulled out his knife.

“Yet.”

The Cobalt gave him a calculating look, neither fear nor anger. Simply waiting.

Calvin sighed and put the knife back before searching the nearby corpse for the key to the Cobalt’s collar, which he found attached to a large ring of keys that mostly looked the same.

“If I let you out of here, will you help free the others?”

“Depends on what you want from us.” It said. “If you plan to treat us like animals, I’d be more inclined to put my kin out of their misery.”

“I’m going to give you the means to defend yourselves,” Calvin said, spinning the ring of keys around his finger. “In exchange for a generous discount on future sales of Keratin”

The creature’s eyes narrowed.

“And how do you plan on giving us the means to defend ourselves, more prison guards?”

“I’m going to turn each and every one of you into Veterans.” Calvin said, catching the keys. “Starting right now.”

He fumbled through the keys until he found the one that matched the collar, releasing gthe thick-necked creature from its restraints. The Cobalt rubbed around its shoulders as it watched Calvin cautiously.

How on Marconen was the collar keeping it in one place? He thought, seeing that the collar was wider than it’s head.

It probably cinched him down in the chair, Calvin thought.

Calvin tossed him the keys. “Make yourselves comfortable over there.” Calvin said, pointing at the barracks to the northwest. “You can run away now, if you like, none of these men are going to stop you, but you’ll be weak and they’ll hunt you down. Stay for a while, regain your strength, and a few Breaks along the way.”

The Cobalt eyed him for a moment.

“My name’s Nash.”

“Male or female?”

“Male, obviously. Don’t you see the spines?” the Cobalt said as he turned away, literally bristling.

Huh.

Calvin went back to the dying Cobalt’s cage with a bowl of soup.

“How goes it old man?”

“I truly…hope you’ve…thought this through.” He wheezed, his upturned ears bloody from where the explosions had damaged the eardrum.

“About as well as anything.” Calvin said, taking a spoonful of broth and holding it up to the old Cobalt’s lips. Behind him, cage after cage was being opened, cobalts spilling free of restraints by the dozens, until a small army, some eight hundred or so cobalts stood behind him, watching him ladle the thin broth into the cobalt’s mouth as they chatted.

“Wizard,” Nash said, arms crossed, prompting Calvin to look at him. The majority of them were looking at Calvin with restrained suspicion and reflexive anger, while the rest were raiding the mess, gorging themselves on soup and meat.

“I’m surprised you guessed correctly.”

“It’s what Ulesians call their spellcasters.”

Oh right, Gadvera is a former colony. 

“What can I help you with?”

“This plan of yours, does it include our females?”

“I don’t see why not.” Calvin said.

“Come with me.” Nash said, motioning for Calvin to join him , moving toward the southwestern tower, furthest away from the entrance by design. It was the place Calvin had marked out as a good spot to start working with his Knick-knacks out of sight of the mercenaries.

Calvin’s spell had a unique signature, green smoke and a massive swarm of summons, and he didn’t want anyone to witness it at play here. One of the reason’s he hadn’t used wasps on people.

That and Calvin was called The Wasp, so it seemed a little stupid if he used them on clandestine missions to undermine Uleis.

Nash led him down a flight of stairs and a long hall, to a hefty iron door. He took out a key and turned the lock with a clunk. The door squealed open on its hinges to reveal a dim, smoky room, filled with pale blue creatures with shorter claws, a smaller frame, tits and potbellies, along with short, paddle-like tails that stretched halfway to the ground.

Standing in front of them was a single Cobalt, who somehow looked even healthier than Nash, with stunning blue skin and spines. What little he saw of them, anyway. He held a shiv in front of himself, his arms trembling as the door swung open.

“Nash!” the other cobalt cried, dropping the knife and taking a step forward.

Nash stalked forward like an angry parent, and the cobalt went back for the knife, but not before Nash delivered a vicious punch to the other man’s face, dropping him to the ground, dazed.

Then came the kicking.

Dozens of other Cobalt males flooded past Calvin to help deliver the soundest beating he’d seen in years.

Let’s see… Calvin thought as he scanned the room, putting the pieces together faster than ever thanks to his Intuition.

Better colored spines, room with all females, largely pregnant…

That one was largely kept from the mistreatment the others experienced, as a breeding stud.

Sounds about right.

And they’re beating on him because they’re pissed.

Another example of the cobalts being treated like animals, he supposed.

Aren’t you gonna stop them?

Eh, Calvin mentally waggled a hand. He wasn’t super interested in selling them virtuous peace. He wanted them angry.

Once they were done, the stud was bleeding on the ground, half-tucked into a ball that would have been a lot more difficult to beat on, if his spines weren’t clipped.

“Is he dead?”

“No.” Nash said before tearing his gaze away from the wreck on the ground and looking up at Calvin.

“You see what they’ve done to us?” he asked as Calvin’s eyes landed on a mass of tiny cobalts, hidden in the shadows of the corner of the room.

“I do.”

“Good. I want you to believe me when I say that if you try to separate us again, we will fight until the very last of us lies dead.” The cobalt hesitated a moment. “But if you’re willing to give us the strength to take revenge, we can work with you.”

Calvin glanced around the room and felt the same iron determination oozing from each one of them.

I can work with this.

“I understand,” Calvin said, rolling up his nonexistent sleeves and nodding to the Cobalt women. “They would probably like to get a change of scenery. I’m going to need this room.”

Gradually the Cobalts streamed out of the room, some of them flinching away from Calvin’s gaze. They wound down the hallway and stumbled into the light of the stairs above, presumably finding someplace to treat their wounds and eat.

“What’s your name?” Nash asked, the last one to leave.

Calvin couldn’t exactly give the man his real name, in case this didn’t pan out and he had to run like hell when everyone got captured, and a stupid pseudonym with wasps was even worse. So he had to pick some other name.

“Call me Elliot, for now,” Calvin said, reaching out a hand.

Nash took it, his hands small, but his massive claws hanging around the edge of Calvin’s palm.

Whaddya bet Cobalts are good at digging?

Doesn’t matter, we’re doing this without help. We can’t let anyone know about it until it’s been used, and that includes our friendlies.

Once they were all gone, Calvin got started the real work.

Calvinian Summoning.

9/15 Bent remaining.

Calvinian Summoning has reached level 16!

Calvinian Summoning level 16: 4096 pound limit, 256 minutes. 0 slots available.

Calvin summoned five units of Knick-Knacks, composed of two big ones, eighty normal sized ones and several thousand palm and thumb-sized ones.

Once they were in place, he gave them the plan.

Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Here’s the plan. I need an escape tunnel that leads up into the mountain, several dozen chambers underneath both the outer and inner battlefield, strong enough for thousands of pounds to go over, but thin enough for Warp to filter through. I want the walls of the fort hollowed out every dozen feet, complete with hidden holes for gas to escape.

Calvin rubbed his chin. He was going to have to have the mercenaries reinforce the front door so that the bad air was more effectively trapped inside the castle, otherwise he’d just make people woozy.

I want those hollow chambers to be connected to chambers underground, marked with an x and behind exactly six inches of stone or whatever you can fit to plug it. they’re going to be my drop points for bad air and poison.

Build rails for the escape routes and some kind of toboggin to sled them at incredible speeds. If we can get all the cobalts out of here at the first sign of trouble, that’ll be excellent.

Make sure there’s good ventilation and airflow in all the chambers meant to be livable. I don’t want us to catch any of our poison in the face.

Above all, you are not to be observed. Dig the primary outtake tunnel first, just like back at the mansion, then dump all your waste rock on the other side of the mountain.

The plan, such as it was, was to use all of his power to pull off a more sophisticated Warp heist than he had the first time he’d tried it.

When the mercenaries repelled Orson’s forces, which they would, Uleis would respond with overwhelming force. That meant anywhere between ten thousand and fifty thousand soldiers.

A perfect number for Break number six.

Oh, speaking of, Bring up Knife-Work. Let’s see if there’s anything that can help with the plan.

Elliot brought up the menu.

Knife-Work Has reached level 10!

Please Choose an Ability or Mutation.

Abilities:

Knife Dancer: 1 Stability per knife. Imbue knives with a portion of your Bent to move them at will. Dismissable. Stability returns 24 hours after the bond has been dismissed.

Bleeding Strike: 1 Bent. Does what it says. The bleeding will not stop without extreme interference.

Penetrating Strike: 1 Bent. Softens material that comes in contact with the blade. The blade isn’t tougher, everything else is softer.

Edge Lord: 1 Bent. Grants a kinetic field of force that applies an edge to anything for as long as it’s held in the user’s hand. Sharpness dependent on Knife-work level. Anything can be a knife with the right mindset!

MacGuyver: 1 Bent/8hrs Applies a malleable kinetic field to a knife that allows it to be used as virtually any hand-held tool (screwdriver, hammer, saw, socket wrench, tweezers, planer, you name it.)

Knives to Meet You: Apply Knife-work’s correction to the damage of attacks performed on an unaware opponent.

Surgeon’s Blade: 1 Bent: Apply Medi-tate’s healing to the patient, with the combined level of Knife-work and Meditate. Lasts during the operation and 1 hour per five levels of Knife-work after Surgery.

Invisiblade: 1 Bent. Makes a knife invisible for 1 hour. Careful you don’t cut yourself with it!

Sacrificial Blade: When User kills with specially prepared knife, that creature’s remaining Bent is drawn from them and given to the User. Overdose may cause Bent toxicity.

^From Lady Killer

Lotus Shivs the Moon: User may circulate Bent through their knife to increase the offensive and defensive range and strength of the blade.

^From Beli Ma and Blade Body.

Mutations:

Grindstone fingers: Sharpen any blade by running your fingers over the edge.

Razor’s Edge: User gives off a passive kinetic field that increases the durability of knives, and raises their sharpness when threatened.

Size Matters. Increase size limit of Blade Body’s storage by 1 inch per level of Knife-work.

Stinger: Launch knives using Blade Body at will.

I am the Blade: User may grow knifelike protrusions from their extremities at will.

^Never be unarmed again!

“Damn, that’s a lot of options.” Calvin muttered as his larger Knick-knack began breaking through the floor with brute force while the smaller ones moved debris and reinforced the sides of the tunnel.