4.39 In Which the Dark Lord Reflects on the Eve of Battle (Patreon)

It was a bit of a hike.

For once, Sneppit’s amazing efficiency had harmed rather than helped; she had very wisely focused reconstruction efforts on the tunnels under the Fflyr territory we mostly needed to move around in, so there wasn’t a convenient tram line that took us all the way to the zombie village, at least not yet.  Ironic that our transportation network let me down right when I needed to move the largest assemblage of troops I’d ever deployed into the field, but that was life.  It took a few hours and thus it was close to noon by the time we had a base camp secured within sight of the village walls, but we got there.

Our base was chosen of necessity, because this was where the tunnel to Kzidnak came out and that was what we needed to secure, but in a nice little reversal of our luck with the trams, this proved to be a perfect location.  The tunnel entrance was a the base of a tall outcropping of stone—rather steep and narrow compared to most geological features on Dount, enough so that no khora were growing on it.  Additionally it had a great view over the village and manor, especially from the peak of the rock spire.  While that was big enough for a few people to stand on, only one was and it wasn’t me.  The climb was, while not impossible, not much fun.

Velaven had bounded up there with an irritating lack of difficulty and had been providing covering fire for our ground troops while they set up; we were close enough to the village that zombies had started making a pretty aggressive push at us immediately, and hadn’t let up since.  That was fine, given that priority one was capturing them.  While Velaven’s artifact bow didn’t do the undead any significant harm like Harker’s anti-magic one, an unerring shot with an arrow from that high up across that distance hit hard enough that a headshot would reliably knock down a humanoid target which already lacked fine motor control.  She wasn’t scoring any kills but had helped a lot in creating openings for the ground forces.

Now, two hours into our occupation, we had a ring of goblin-built iron barricades, supported by crossbows from behind and spears holding the gaps.  I’d taken a position below Velaven’s but still with a good vantage to provide Healing and covering fire whenever a particularly dense pack of zombies needed to be cleared out.  By the time our catch teams had filled their quota, both Velaven and I were mostly reduced to watching, the people on the ground having things well in hand.

I risked taking my eyes off the perimeter to watch the row of rattling coffins being hoisted into the tunnel by wolf people.  In hindsight, the solution of individual person-sized boxes was so obvious I was pissed I hadn’t immediately thought of it myself, just because that would’ve made a perfect comeback to Kasser’s snark about big boxes.  The only difficult part had been the actual captures, and even that had gone more smoothly than I’d dared hope.

Apparently the Fflyr were very well acquainted with catchpoles, essentially polearms with loops of rope on one end that could be used to ensnare and control a target from a distance.  I’d asked if those were used for hunting and Aster had blandly replied they were mostly used on farms to prevent indentured workers from fleeing.

I couldn’t wait to burn this entire island to the ground.  For real this time.

Boots crunched on gravel and underbrush as my second in command climbed up to my perch alongside me.

“How’re we doing?”

“Catch teams are almost done,” Aster reported.  “The defenses are holding well; I’m pleased with how everyone has performed.  Zeckl’s, uh, experiment has been a disappointment.”

I nodded.  “I noticed the lack of explosions.  What went wrong?”

“I’m sure she’ll want to make her own report once she’s got the details ironed out, but at a glance, it looks like the crossbow-fired munitions are just too bulky to fly effectively.  They don’t have nearly the range of a proper crossbow bolt, and they’re so slow in flight that when they hit it often doesn’t even trigger the detonation mechanism unless it’s at very close range.  They worked better in the early tests, but against targets that are both moving and soft…  Basically, we’re learning why Jadrak’s people were just using slingshots and grenades.”

“Well…we can always go back to using those.”

“Yeah, Zeckl’s frustrated; the ammo she designed is a lot cheaper and easier to produce, so I doubt she’ll want to give up on the idea unless you order it.  Apparently what we faced was the result of months of manufacturing and stockpiling, and they blew through nearly all of it in the first battle.  Remember we were only able to salvage a dozen or so rounds to use in the last fight with Hoy.  We’ve got a much bigger manufacturing base than the Jadrak Company did, but those munitions are still not economical.”

“I approve of Zeckl experimenting, at least.  I trust Kasser to keep an eye on her and make the call regarding what is and isn’t worth pursuing.”

We needed those munitions, or at least some kind of munitions.  Zeckl had rigged up a very primitive musket pretty easily based on my descriptions, but it had proven unreliable.  Actual guns were problematic here because we were using alchemy, not chemistry; the goblins’ explosives were mostly liquids rather than powders, which was a surmountable problem but created additional issues I couldn’t even make suggestions on how to overcome.  I barely knew even the basics of how Earth guns worked.  As far as I understood it, modern ones don’t even have gunpowder in the barrels and I don’t even know how the hell that works, never having been curious enough to look it up.  Still, the goblins were ingenious and with the funding and direction I was giving them, I expected good results.

Gaining an edge in firepower was crucial.  We were too exposed, our operation too visible; the only reason we weren’t facing massively organized, dedicated opposition was because there was nothing massively organized or dedicated in Fflyr Dlemathlys at all, and even so…it was only a matter of time.  The core of my strategy was to have exotic weaponry prepared and held in reserve, so that once we were cornered by conventional military forces en masse I could hit them with a bunch of industrial age bullshit the medieval armies of Ephemera would be unprepared for.

It was important to hold that card in reserve for as long as possible.  Once I kicked off an actual arm’s race…  Well, I didn’t like my chances against the entire scientific and industrial capacity of the Lancor Empire.  I suspected it was some goddess-related nonsense that kept them at a lower level of technology, and Sanora was definitely not above abruptly changing the rules if it suited her.

“So…how long has that been going on?” I pointed at one of the barricade gaps, where Nazralind was currently taking her turn with a spear.

“She had Goose start training her in the spear two weeks ago,” Aster said quietly, shooting a glance up and to our right, where Velaven stood watchfully atop her perch, just out of earshot at this low volume.  “Naz was the designated archer in our core group, but now we have someone with a powerful artifact bow.  Goose insists the spear is the best weapon for melee fighting.”

I frowned, unsure quite how to feel about this development.  “Mmm…”

“Seiji,” Aster said more quietly yet, “don’t coddle Nazralind.”

At that I had to turn fully to her, my eyebrows shooting upward.  “You think I’m coddling her?”

“Nope.”  She reassuringly patted my shoulder.  “This is…advice for the future.  I’m sure you’ve noticed Naz tends to be kind of…silly.”

“When she can afford to, sure.  She’s never acted the fool when we needed to be serious.  Shit’s rough for us all, Aster, I say let people unwind however they need to.”

“Of course.  It only concerns me because, well…she kind of hides behind you.  And don’t get me wrong, she needed to after her experience trying to lead her group alone.  Seiji…  Nazralind has the potential to be the leader she was trying to be; she just wasn’t ready.  It’s done her a world of good, having the chance to hone her skills while someone else is in charge.  Just…remember that, please.  She should be encouraged to put herself forward, when the opportunity comes.  It would be a shame if that potential was accidentally squandered because she’s traumatized and you like to protect people.”

I chewed my lip.  “Hm.  That’s…hm.  I think you’ve got a good point.  Thanks, Aster, I’ll keep it in mind.  Ahem, anyway. Looks like the last of the captured zombies are secured.  What’s your assessment on our next phase?”

“First of all, I’d like to shell down for a while,” she said more briskly.  “Our current defensive posture is extremely effective; you’ve seen how the pressure has eased off the longer we’ve been here.  We’re heavily culling the local zombies just by holding this position.  I think it’ll be good to keep doing that until the attacks mostly trail off, since we’re here to wipe them out and this way is the least risky to our people.  Obviously we can’t waste too much time, so once the engineers have finished solidifying the fortifications I think we should move out, but that will be…  Let’s see, given the last estimate I heard, at least another half an hour.”

“Makes sense.”

“The next issue is that…  Well, I’ve been watching how we’re doing at repelling them.  Heavy crossbows and spears work well from behind barricades, but we are going to run into trouble once we move out.  Basically, dealing with massed undead calls for heavy infantry—full plate armor and tower shields, et cetera.”

“While our forces are specialized in light guerrilla fighting.  Hng…”

She grimaced.  “Yeah, exactly.  Lord Seiji, I know what you said back at the fortress, but I think when it comes to actually cleaning them out, we’re going to have to rely mostly on you.  I recommend sending the wolf tribe members to clear us a path to the wall breach up ahead; they’re the biggest and have the heaviest weapons.  Once we’re inside, buildings and streets are great for throwing up defenses and organizing killboxes.  A complete nightmare when it’s army against army, but against stupid and individually weak monsters, a blessing.  It’s just getting there that’ll be the problem.”

“Ah, so that’s why you want to thin them out from behind defenses first.”

“Exactly.  Wolves make us a corridor, you and I go in first so you can Heal any wolves who take injuries and then start blasting whole groups.  Once we’ve secured an entry point we can repeat what we did here.  Soon as we have a safe position inside the walls, it shouldn’t prove too had to wipe them out, street by street.  But, uh…  You’re gonna end up doing most of the work, I don’t see a way around that.”

“Ain’t that always the way,” I said philosophically.

“To be honest, I think that’ll help with more than our immediate strategic objectives.  A lot depends on you, Lord Seiji, and everybody knows it.  Letting our people see you really let loose with the magic will be good for morale, I think.  Everyone will feel safer about our prospects in general, knowing our Dark Lord can bring down the sky on our enemies.”

“Well, now, that’s just unfair,” I said, pouting.  “You know how much I hate making a spectacle of myself.”

Aster smirked and punched my shoulder.  “I will take that as approval of my plan.  Sorry to make you sit on your thumbs a while longer.”

“Actually…no, that’s perfect.”  I glanced up again.  “I want to take advantage of the opportunity.  I’ll keep an eye on developments from above, but keep me posted, Aster.  We’ll move out as soon as you judge the time is right.”

“Will do, Lord Seiji.”

The incline was steep enough I had to use my hands to climb, but it wasn’t too terribly difficult—thanks, that is, to my Surestep Boots.  Without those I would still have made it up, but not without embarrassing myself.

Velaven turned to incline her head deeply to me in an almost-bow before resuming her constant scan of the perimeter.  “Lord Seiji.  I remain ready to snipe, but it has ceased to be necessary these last few minutes.  Are we soon to advance?”

“Soon, yes.  Aster wants to wring some more progress out of this position while they set up the more permanent barricades around the tunnel entrance.  Once that’s done we make for the breach ahead.  Can you provide covering fire to the wall?”

“Effectivefire, a little more than halfway.”

“Very good.  I’ll need you to hold this position then; you’ll be needed inside, but I want your support for the advance troops until we’ve secured a beachhead.”

“Very good, Lord Seiji.  I am at your service.”

Welp, that was it for shop talk.  Gizmit’s advice had been turning over in my head; befriending Velaven was a fine enough idea, in theory, but what was there to even talk to her about?  When I really considered it…  I didn’t actually dislike Velaven, in terms of personality.  I was not over being angry about the various messes she had caused, but as for her personally?  I didn’t like or dislike her personality because I didn’t really know what it was.  She worked hard at being self-contained and aloof.

“Your hair looks amazing, by the way.”

Of course, I do know a thing or two about talking to women.  There are some universals.  It helped that it was true.  Velaven’s new do made her resemble an anime character, but that was a big improvement over her previously ragged mop, and she carried it better than most of the highborn I’d seen.

The smile she gave me in reply looked genuine, but in her case I couldn’t be sure what that was worth.  “Thank you very much.”

“So how long did it take for Zui to get her hands on you?”

“It was a few days,” she admitted.  “Of course, if I’d realized this was an option I’d have sought her out sooner.”

“I assume it came with a side order of unsolicited but surprisingly insightful commentary, and absolutely no personal respect.”

She slowly nodded, still gazing out across the forest with a faint smile.  “A woman of multiple talents.”

Damn, that was a solid deflection.  I’d been hoping to milk this for some more light chitchat before moving on to anything more serious, but now I had to jump ahead or risk making the pause awkward.  At least I’d prepared topics in advance; it wasn’t like there was nothing I needed to ask her about.

“Do you think of yourself as evil?”

Velaven gave me a truly inscrutable look.

“You, collectively,” I clarified.  “Shylver, Savins, Viryans in general.  Virya described herself right to my face as the Goddess of Evil.  Fine as far as it goes, but in my experience actual cultures require something more consistent to justify their customs.  I wouldn’t have thought anybody could actually think of themselves as evil.  The goblins sure don’t, and they’re Viryan.  But…  I am constantly reminded how little I understand about this world, still.”

“I had a friend, in Shylverrael,” she said quietly.  “Have a friend, I very much hope, though I fear Lyvien will have tried to cull those who had been close to me…  She is, or was, Blessed with Wisdom.  One of the most interesting things she told me was that its gift of universal language learning could cause surprising complications.  That a person who had a language instantly installed into their brain might be prone to misjudgments someone who had slowly and consciously learned it would not make.”

“Heh, yeah, that is definitely a thing.  Remind me to tell you sometime how Gizmit used that to trick me into revealing I was the Dark Lord.”

“Gizmit is a truly rare talent,” Velaven murmured, frowning faintly.  “You are as lucky to have her as she is not to be wasted blackmailing Sneppit’s business rivals.  Had I such a gifted spymaster I think I would still be Queen.  I bring it up, my lord, because you’ve chosen a Fflyr word for ‘evil’ which makes the question impossible to answer.  There are some few Viryan cults—small and disfavored ones—which might embrace such a label.  The actual terminology varies by culture and language, because the related words in each language have varied shades of meaning.  Many Viryan philosophies define themselves around ideas which would best translate as ‘opposition’ or ‘liberty.’  If you called them most terms translatable as ‘evil,’ most would either disdain you as a Sanorite ignoramus, or take great offense.  It is…extremely interesting to me to learn that Virya herself used the word.”

She hesitated, then risked taking her eyes off the field to regard me seriously.

“Lord Seiji, when you begin interacting with formal Viryan clergy, I recommend you refrain from sharing that anecdote.  It would be…theologically disruptive.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  Fuck that, Virya was a bored, lazy twat and I meant to make damn sure everybody knew it.  No point in derailing this conversation about it, though.  “And what about the Shylver?  Since they’re the Viryan culture I will almost certainly be encountering next.”

“Actually, you will most likely meet the naga next, as you will have to get through them—one way or another—to reach Shylverrael.  Fortunately the answer is the same, as both are descended from the same Savin traditions.  I believe the organizing principle of our philosophy would be best translated as…villainy.”

Somewhat to my surprise, a prickle ran across my skin.  I could see the vague form of something taking shape—sense pieces slotting into place as Velaven began to guide me toward understanding an entire new worldview.  It was surprisingly exhilarating for someone like me, who’d never had much inclination toward philosophy.

“Go on?”

“Heroism and villainy describe a whole other axis, parallel to morality—or perhaps even perpendicular to it.  I chose those Fflyr terms because…  Well, funnily enough, I believe the Fflyr of all Sanorite cultures would understand most easily.  They are literary terms, describing the idealized roles taken in stories.  Villains act, heroes react.  Heroes and villains alike are individuals who tower over the rest of us, characterized by the immense power and will it takes to remake the world in their image.  A hero is a force of order, one who emerges in response to great calamity, to drive back the darkness and restore what has been broken.  A living repudiation of chaos.”

She paused, and we both looked down, watching our troops below.  Wolf people with huge spears and women wielding crossbows hammered against the continuous trickle of attacking undead, creating time and space for energetic goblins to hammer more solid barricades into place.

“But a villain.”  Velaven drew in a breath slowly, and let it out in a continuous stream of soft mist.  “A villain arrives in a world that is already in order, and finds it…wanting.  One who uses that power and will to assert change where change was not rising on its own.  A villain, a true villain, may be compassionate or cruel, good or evil, but what they always are is…just a little bit, and in just the right way…mad.”

She looked up again, meeting and holding my eyes, her expression intent and intense.

“It takes arrogance, the delusional arrogance of a megalomaniac, to gaze upon the world in all its vast, majestic intricacy, and declare…  ‘I have a better idea.’  But…  Just imagine what a hopeless, stagnant world it would be if no one ever did.”

“So that…is your people’s ideal?”  This was, honestly, a revelation.  I could see the power of the idea.  She was describing an amoral category of person who could be as good or bad as the individual and the situation around them.  Velaven’s villainy equally described Gandhi and Hitler.  The will to reject the world as it was.  To remake it.  To, for good or ill, break those who tried to maintain the status quo.

“It is what we revere,” she said softly, “even as we know that few can truly aspire to that.  Or should.  Of the truly universal differences between Sanorites and Viryans, one is that we recognize their value, while the reverse is not often true.  There must be order.  Every society needs its heroes—and a cultural tradition of heroism.  Without custom and culture and tradition, without safety and security and harmony…  Well, that is not a society.  In anarchy, everyone is a villain, and thus no one is.  Villainy is a rare thing, and must be.  But while they decry it as evil, we hold it sacred.”

I stared at the village walls and Khariss’s manor beyond, not really seeing them.  “It seems to me that only some…villains…are actually trying to accomplish anything constructive.  A lot of those who set out to remake the world are only grasping at power for themselves.”

She nodded.  “And even those have their value, for they compel the forces of order to act.  At absolute best, a villain changes the world for the better.  At worst?  They create the conditions which give rise to heroism.”

“That’s…a lot to live up to.”

Velaven glanced at me, seemingly considering whether to say something.  I listened to the wind and the intermittent sounds of battle from below, giving her the moment.

“You are not much of a villain, Lord Seiji,” she said finally.

I blinked, trying to decide how offended I should be.

“And that is not criticism,” she clarified, “not from any sensible Viryan and least of all from me.  You and I both…  At our most compassionate, we try to protect others.  At our most selfish, to regain a better state of being that was forcibly taken from us.  Truthfully?  The time is long past when I dreamed of villainy—I leave those behind me as the idle fantasies of a naive girl.”

“I don’t know if I could possibly express to you how fundamentally fucking unacceptable this world is.  Fflyr Dlemathlys is particularly bad, but…  All of Ephemera is a wreck.  Things should not be like this!  Someone has to do something. And if I’m the one with the power, well…”

“But tell me this,” she countered, wearing a slight smile.  “Had you the power to instantly, completely assert your will across this broken world, would you create your ideal of a perfect one?  Do you even have a vision of what that would be?  Or can you only think to restore a high standard that no one else on Ephemera has ever known?  The world you dream of making might seem revolutionary to those of us born here, raised here…  But to you, Lord Seiji.  Are you trying to show us the ways of the more advanced culture you come from?  Or do you, personally, have a better idea?”

I could only stare at her.  I felt like the rational center of my brain was flailing in freefall, suddenly deprived of anything to grasp or stand on, while the emotional part just floated along with no idea what to make of this.

Velaven lowered her eyes, her shoulders moving in a small sigh.

“To embrace villainy, true villainy, would impress the Viryan peoples, sure…  But nothing is less villainous than molding yourself to the expectations of others.  Yomiko was certainly no villain; above all else she was a protector, a liberator, a champion of order and restoration.  And she is remembered with respect and admiration by the descendants of her allies and enemies alike.  If you don’t have a vision you would see inflicted on the world at any cost, well…  Congratulations on your sanity.”

Okay…  That was enough of this for now.  I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting from having a real conversation with Velaven, but it was not to be suddenly forced to reassess my entire existence.

“I think…you and I should have more conversations, Velaven.  You seem to have a lot to teach me.”

“I have far more to learn.”  She smiled, the expression distant and sad and warm enough that I had to accept it as genuine, because if she could fake something that intricate she was just going to always be a step ahead of me and there was no point in worrying about it.  “I would like that very much, Lord Seiji.”

“Things are slowing down there.  I’m going to get in position; best if I’m ready to move out as soon as Aster has everything in order.”

“Fight well, Dark Lord.”

I turned and carefully picked my way down the slope, my mind far away from the coming battle.