Amazon Apocalypse 5: Chapter 22 (Patreon)

Perhaps I was too soft without the effects of blood frenzy or my new draconic Signature Skill running through my veins, but the pair of cultivators seemed surprised when I told them I was letting them both go.

“Alright, you’ve satisfied my questions. Get out of here.” I jerked my chin away from the city.

“Excuse me?” the man of the pair asked.

I rolled my eyes, mind going back to some of my communication issues with cultivators. If I wanted to get them to do what I wanted, I needed to speak their language. And there was a lot more to language than just words.

With a sigh, I repeated myself.

“Your explanations were horrible, and neither of you are worthy of becoming fuel for my ascension. Get lost. Leave this world entirely because if I see you again, you’ll meet a truly terrible fate.” I waved my hand arrogantly, putting the two out of sight.

“Yes! Thank you, young master. This lowly one understands... we will never trouble you again.” the woman bowed low, and soon the man did as well.

The pair vanished, and I really did hope I would never see them again. No doubt that pair had done some horrible things in the past and would do more horrible things in the future, but I had a soft spot for people who were loyal to one another and didn’t feel like turning this pair into experience points. No doubt sparing just one of them as I'd promised would leave the other heartbroken and hateful, so to keep my promise I spared both. Besides, there would be plenty more cultivators to kill for levels when we took Tinsburg in the morning.

When the last of the invading cultivators were being hunted down, I gathered my officers to piece together the state of the army. The third legion had taken heavy casualties, followed by the thirteenth legion. My legion had been well protected since most of our wizards, valuables, and non-combatants were tucked away in my pocket realm. The only thing the cultivators ended up ambushing were a group of battle-hardened mercenaries and Amazonian warriors who were keeping guard and already armed and on edge, so we had largely made it out unharmed.

The cultivators seemed to be targeting our supply wagons, which had also been safe in the pocket realm. The third, thirteenth, and seventh legions had been the only ones to lose goods. I suspected their plan was to steal our supplies to slow us down and replenish their own reserves. They must have been running desperately low to attempt something like this.

“We lost a few dozen dimensionally expanded wagons. A small loss for us, but painful if our enemies plan to use the stolen weapons and healing supplies against us,” Cyra said.

“So that’s the bad news. What’s the good news?” I asked with a scowl.

Cyra ran fingers through her hair, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, but I haven’t finished the bad news yet. Legate Maximus was poisoned during his fight with the enemy B-Grade. The woman he was fighting wielded this deadly hairpin thing. He and I drove her off, but not before he took a nasty stab. Whatever poison she used was potent, so I don’t think he’ll be fit to help us storm the walls tomorrow. He’s also going to have difficulty leading his men.”

I cursed. This made things significantly more difficult. Legate Maximus was the glue holding this force together. If he was out of the picture, Morin and Abesa would surely never listen to me.

“I want to speak with Legate Maximus. You should come too.”

Cyra led me to Legate Maximus, whose condition was even worse than I feared. He had sickly purple veins running up and down his body, and he looked a breath away from death.

“This is worse than before,” Cyra said worriedly.

Legate Maximus was lying down on a bed, wheezing and gasping out a few orders to concerned subordinates.

I took a knee beside his bed, and he rolled a bloodshot eye in my direction.

“I see you made it out unharmed...” he grunted, coughing a little blood as he did so.

“Which of your officers is the most competent? I recommend putting them in command while you focus on recovering,” I asked.

Legate Maximus eyed the last of his subordinates filing out of the town hall, which his legion had commandeered as their headquarters.

“None of them. There were some political winds back on Glacia, and I lost all my best officers to another campaign. Everyone else is as fresh and green as Morin and Abesa...” Maximus coughed.

I scowled. The last thing I wanted was a third incompetent peer. There had to be something I could do...

My wandering eyes lit on Cyra.

“Cyra, how would you like to transfer to the Seventh Legion?” I asked.

“A transfer? But what of my subordinates?” Cyra asked.

“Myrina’s nearly at B-Grade. With me to help her, I’m confident she can learn to fill your shoes. Right now, the Seventh Legion needs you most. You’ve led troops before, and you were nearly in command of the auxiliary legion in my place. You’re the best fit for the role, assuming Legate Maximus agrees?”

I glanced at Legate Maximus, who let out a heaving breath. He probably knew what I was doing, but agreed it was the best course of action.

“My seal is in my pocket. Write the paperwork down, and I’ll enlist her as an officer in my legion. She has the credentials. Though any heat she takes will be yours to handle, Legate Carter. And she’ll still have to jockey for position among my other officers. I can name her Primus Pilus, but that will not make her most senior of the centurions.”

I laid a hand on Cyra’s shoulder. “I believe in her.”

And so the deal was struck, and Cyra transferred from command of the melee division of the auxiliary legion to the highest-ranking officer of the Seventh Legion that Legate Maximus could make her on short notice. No doubt some of his other subordinates would be furious to be passed up like this, but from the sound of things, Legate Maximus trusted none of them with command.

Besides, this was something the army desperately needed if we were to survive our mission to conquer Tinsburg. If another officer took control of the Seventh Legion while Maximus was incapacitated, that officer would likely entwine themselves with Legate Morin and Legate Abesa and make things very difficult for me. Installing Cyra into a position where she could compete for command of the Seventh Legion meant the balance of power between the legions would remain. On paper, we’d be evenly matched, and in truth, my side would have most of the elite units and could effectively dictate the army’s strategy.

With the matter of Maximus’ command temporarily addressed, I returned to my legion to tell Myrina about her promotion. She must have sensed something was up with the way I looked at her. From time to time, she had an uncanny way of figuring out what I was thinking at just a glance. If anyone else wielded such a power, I’d have been terrified of them. Myrina... was still terrifying sometimes, but in a good way.

She ran right up to me before I could even say anything.

“I demand a promotion!” Myrina said, hands on her hips and face full of smugness.

“Funny you should mention that, Myrina. I was just on my way to find Centurion Asimi. A new position opened up directly under me, and I think she’s perfect for the promotion."

Myrina’s face was a picture of betrayal, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Carter! Whatever happened to nepotism!? I demand preferential treatment.” Myrina crossed her arms and huffed.

I gave her cute cheeks a pinch.

“I’m only teasing, Myrina. Of course, you’re getting the promotion. Just be sure to ask me for advice whenever you run into trouble, especially early on, okay?”

Myrina bopped me on the shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down! And don’t you worry, I’ll make the melee unit the fiercest band of fighters in the army! We’ll be first on the walls every time, and we’ll make sure to hack down ten enemies for every one of us that falls!”

“...Or, you can stay in the rear and guard the wizards from a surprise flanking attack, like you’re supposed to?”

Myrina sagged. Her arms hung limp, and her disappointment was clear. “If I have to...”

“Only most of the time. Besides, it’s not all bad, right? You’ll be right by my side while we fire spells until we take the walls.” I ran my fingers through her hair, and she leaned into me, rubbing her cheek against mine the way a cat might.

“I guess there’s more to life than hearing the lamentations of our enemies...”

***

The siege of Tinsburg was a lengthier affair than conquering Mundwise. This was by far a smaller city, but with Legate Maximus out of commission and Cyra still pulling together her authority with what little support he could give from his bed, our army cohesion was heavily fractured.

“I’m not charging the walls. My legion took heavy casualties on watch last night,” Legate Abesa huffed.

“Uhm... ah... mine too!” Morin hastened to add.

They both looked at me.

“I’m not charging the wall,” I said.

“Looks like it’s the Seventh Legion’s job! They’re going to have a rough time of it with Legate Maximus out of commission. Too bad, so sad.” Legate Abesa let out a dainty laugh that didn’t sound sad at all.

“Do you think he’s going to die? If so, do you think that armor of his would fit me?” Legate Morin asked, sucking in his gut considerably in a completely vain attempt to mimic Legate Maximus’ physique.

“Enough!” I snapped at the two pathetic excuses for peers that I was working with. Just about any of my officers were more competent than this pair, and how they ended up in command of their respective legions probably involved a lot of political backstabbing and very little field experience.

“And who are you to tell us what to do, auxiliary commander? We all agreed Maximus was in charge of our united forces. Now that he’s gone, we need to choose someone else. I think that I should be in charge.” Abesa looked at me with mocking eyes and hands on her hips.

“Oh! Me! I’ll take command,” Morin suggested, at least until Abesa leaned over and whispered something quietly in his ear. “I changed my mind. I’m voting for Legeate Abesa to take command.”

I pinched my temples between my brows. What a disaster. Thankfully, I heard the curtains rustling and sensed Cyra approaching.

“Well then, we needn’t vote any further. I’m in command now, aren’t I? Let’s send the wizards to the front. Spells are so boring. Let’s have them charge the walls with swords!” Abesa was already drumming her fingernails against one another in clear amusement.

Then the curtains swung open, and my personal savior walked in.

“Acting Legate Cyra, so glad you could join us,” I smiled as she strode through the unfamiliar command tent.

“Acting Legate? What?” Abesa looked shocked.

“Sorry I’m late. Some of the Seventh Legion officers had issues with my reassignment. I had to straighten them out.” Cyra shook her hands out, and I noticed her knuckles were bruised. No doubt a few of her officers had a lot of new matching bruises. It wasn’t the way I would have taken command, but she’d seized authority far faster than I’d dared to hope.

“I don’t believe this!” Abesa huffed.

Cyra quickly produced Legate Maximus’ official seal of command, now in her possession thanks to our earlier meeting.

“We were just appointing an overall army commander,” I said.

“Legate Carter should lead us,” Cyra said smoothly.

I grinned. “I would also like to vote for myself.”

“W-well... we’re still just tied!” Legate Abesa said.

Cyra, meanwhile, was getting a feel for command. I could tell she was taking in the state of the command tent and the quality of the legates commanding the legion and was greatly disappointed.

Cyra leaned over to Legate Morin’s side and cupped one hand to whisper in the legate’s ear. Her other hand landed on the man’s shoulder. She whispered something, and though I heard nothing more than mumbles, it sounded a lot more threatening than whatever Legate Abesa had whispered. When Cyra removed her hand from his shoulder, I could see Morin’s armor was dented in the shape of Cyra’s hand.

“I’m changing my vote! I also vote for Legate Carter!” Legate Morin said hastily.

I flashed Cyra a gratified smile. Things were already going a lot smoother than I thought they would.

“Good! Now that we’ve settled that, let’s figure out how we’re going to take this city...”

***

Cyra proved remarkably adept at wrangling the two other legates. Her technique for keeping the two in line wasn’t the sort of thing that would make it into any Glacian military handbook, but Cyra had learned everything she knew about dealing with feudal warlords on Themyscira. Titles and procedure were all well and good, but an innate understanding of people was superior.

With me officially in command, taking Tinsburg was actually relatively simple. I directed my wizards to pummel the walls one one side with a continuous barrage of spells. They kept that up for several hours, and anyone who looked would think we planned to brute-force our way through the shields with days of artillery magic.

As before, the cultivators manipulated their shield wards to reinforce that chunk of the wall. As a result, they were entirely unprepared for me to attack with a Void Cannon from the other side of the wall, where Cyra and the Seventh Legion waited in hiding.

By the time the cultivators thought to reallocate their defenses, Cyra and her forces had already breached the walls. Apparently, the only B-Grades near the city had attacked us the previous night, so without them, we quickly took the rest of the city.

Even though I didn’t do much fighting, quite a few levels rolled in regardless, thanks to being in command. Between that and the fighting the previous night, I made quite a bit more progress.

Congratulations, your race, Homo Fatum Deus, has reached level 242!

Congratulations, your class, Sage of Forbidden Knowledge, has reached level 243!

Most of my time storming the city was spent taking prisoners rather than slaughtering C-Grades. The technique I’d crafted to capture Mimiko proved quite useful at that, and all my captives were much higher ranking than she’d been.

I’d also taken all these prisoners inside the city’s spirit stone production facility, which meant all my new prisoners were ruthless bastards fond of human sacrifice, so I felt far more comfortable giving them a well-deserved end. And unlike this time, I had multiple prisoners, which meant piecing together truth from a web of lies was a lot easier.

I was interested in prisoners mainly for some combination of up-to-date news on the region and what I’d heard recently about this Elder Blackhand who wanted me killed or captured.

I interrogated my prisoners one by one, each of whom was very eager to betray their sect in exchange for me restoring their destroyed dantians. The upgrades I’d done on Mimiko were something I was holding in reserve in case I really needed a good bribe, but none of my prisoners struck me as someone worth keeping alive, let alone helping.

“Elder Blackhand had us searching the eastern plains for something... I don’t know what. I swear on the heavens this is all I know!” a groveling cultivator said from his knees. The way he bowed and scraped would have been convincing if I hadn’t caught him literally throwing several of his subordinates at me to slow him down while he got away.

“I know you think you’ve told me everything, but I want you to start from the beginning. Now, again...” I waved my hand to continue. I was only listening to the interrogation with half an ear. I had Ted’s book in my other hand and was flipping through its pages.

“Okay, well... I joined up with the Black Beast Sect when I was twenty years old...”

He began his story, and I waved him through the parts leading up to his arrival on Ladwick. There must have been a detail I missed hidden somewhere in the story, and the System must have been listening a lot closer than I was because just when I was about to give up, a new notification flashed before my eyes.

New Quest available!

Investigate the Eastern Plains:

Elder Blackhand is searching for something in the Eastern Plains that needs an Aethersmith to access. If you can find it first, you might make greater use of it than him.

Reward: Unknown.


<Note>
Late chapter! Sorry guys, I thought it was Sunday today.