Reincarnating Into A Fantasy World As An Autonomous Machine Arsenal 45 Log 045: Operation Ragnarok

"Your Majesty! Please stop this foolishness at once!" a man with balding hair said, as he threw himself at Somnus's feet.

Somnus ignored the man, walking past him and further into the palace.

The ground shook from the collision of the Herald of Ash and the Pantheon's messenger, who fought in the skies above Insomnia.

The palace was a large and decadent thing. So much luxury was focused in one place that it blinded the eyes. The ceiling was a dozen meter above their heads and golden chandeliers illuminated the Great Hall. Ornately designed marble floors were covered by a red carpet that led from the entrance to the raised dais where the throne was set. To the sides, ma.s.sive pillars supported the ceiling.

"Human, step back," Det growled as he pushed the man over with his foot.

Another man, a battle-scarred veteran knelt in front of Somnus and pleaded, "Your Excellency, if you do not call off your subject, it is the same as declaring war on the Empire!"

"Good," Somnus said. "War with Empire is desirable."

"You cannot be serious! They have hundreds of thousands of troops. After Solus Hill, we can barely put together twenty thousand! They will destroy us!" the man continued to plead, following Somnus on all fours.

"If you do not fight well enough, then you will be destroyed." Somnus seemed heartless and dead-set on this war, as if he didn't care about his country.

The veteran was left speechless by Somnus's reply.

"If we raise the taxes, we may be able to quickly train more troops…" one of the n.o.bles said.

"And let the people starve?" another asked, outraged.

"What choice do we have?"

Commotion broke out in the ranks of the n.o.bility. Most of them argued for raising taxes, but not to help Somnus, but rather to bolster their own security. If Somnus was dead-set on self-destructing Arsalan, then they needed to protect themselves; this was the essence of their reasoning.

Somnus finally reached the throne and sat down as the ground shook once more.

"Your Majesty, do you have a plan for how to deal with Astoria? We are still at war," one of the officials spoke, veering the subject away from the Empire.

Somnus sighed. Being a ruler was tedious. In what kind of system does the subject always question the superior? Such an ineffective system. In the Empire of j.a.pan, which Somnus was once a subject of, all power rested in the hands of the Empress. The Shogun, who was the Empress's sister, was allowed to control the military. Somnus thought a military dictators.h.i.+p like that was a good system.

"Astoria not a recognized threat level," Somnus said, dismissing the question.

The official stared at Somnus. He could not believe the words Somnus spoke. How could this person dismiss Astoria who defeated them at Solus Hill? Arsalan barely had an army left! It was a miracle they weren't conquered already!

"I know," Somnus said, leaning to one side. "Declare war on all surrounding countries and conquer them."

"With what!?" the veteran shouted.

Somnus glanced at the veteran and narrowed his eyes. To Somnus, this person looked like this country's Supreme Commander, or at least the Commander of a specific military Order.

"Find way to accomplish objective," Somnus said to the Commander.

From the pillars, Somnus noticed dozens of banners. Each one, no doubt, represented a n.o.ble house or military organization. This was such a decadent place.

"I beg you to reconsider, your Majesty!" the Commander spoke. "We cannot possibly accomplish this goal. It would be suicide."

Somnus narrowed his eyes at the Commander. "Then find way to die with dignity."

The Commander blinked and took a step back.

The ground shook once more. The battle outside was losing its ferocity.

Somnus looked at the others and then back to the Commander. Somnus disliked the Commander's lack of discipline. In the Empire, such behavior would never be allowed. Soldiers of the Empire would gladly die for their country. But not these humans. They neither loved their state, nor their race. They had no pride and no dignity. Truly, this was not the Humanity that fought Somnus across the Solar system.

"You are weak," Somnus said. "It is because you never faced a real threat. It is because you never dared to kill a King. Your wars, and your ways of fighting, are those of an actor, not a mortal enemy."

The Commander grit his teeth together. He served his country for decades—he did not think he deserved such harsh words.

"If you are to be my sword, then you must learn the wars, and the way of fighting, of a soldier. If you are to drag the Empire from its throne, and kill the G.o.ds, then you must become War itself," Somnus said. "War does not fear fairy tales and legends. It conquers them. Your kind is especially proficient at that."

Somnus stood up from the throne and then grandly sweeped his hand through the air. "Are you afraid to kill a king because of the Heralds? Then kill the Herald too! Are you afraid of the G.o.ds? Then kill the G.o.ds! Who stands before me?" Somnus asked, voice calm and steady. "Sheep or men?"

There were many displeased faces in the crowd.

"Either way," Somnus said as he sat down once more, "When you conquer the surrounding countries, among you will appear the leaders who can rise up to the challenge. Among you will appear those who are neither sheep nor men, but warriors. When that day comes, standing before me will not be you, but it will be them."

The people gathered before Somnus understood the meaning of that threat very well. This was the end of their era; their banners would disappear from the Great Hall, replaced by others.

"If you do not want that, then you will have to meet my expectations," Somnus said. "Fight. Struggle. Conquer. No surrender. No mercy. No peace. Rest when you die."

No one dared to look up at Somnus. They thought he was equal parts insane and right.

"Your Majesty," the Commander said, "as much as I desire the same thing as you… we simply do not have the resources."

"You have the Arrod Dungeon Core," Somnus said.

"You want us… to use monsters?" the Commander asked.

"Is there a problem?" Somnus asked. The monsters on both sides of the throne glared at the Commander.

"It is just… they are too weak," the Commander said.

"Too weak?" Somnus asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

The Commander gulped down his trepidation. "The Arrod Dungeon is a low level Dungeon… if it was the Severn Dungeon Core…"

"Among your kind, you have Heroes. They are all cla.s.sified after reaching a rank of S in two attributes, is that correct?" Somnus asked.

"Yes, your Majesty."

"How many of those exist in your world?"

"Two, your Majesty."

"Lod. In your Division, how many monsters have two attribute at the S rank?"

"Four, master."

The commander blinked.

"Scarface, how many?"

"Three, master."

"Hadron?" Somnus asked.

"Mana…"

Hadron was a brilliant weapon of war, but he was dumber than a doornail.

"How is that possible…?" the Commander asked.

"No more excuses, Commander," Somnus said. "You have your orders."

The Commander licked his lips, and then nodded. "As you command, your Majesty."

Somnus sniffed disdainfully and then said, "If you are to be my sword, then let the designation of this country from now on be "Gram", which means "wrath"; It was the sword of Sigurd, who killed the dragon Fafnir."

Everyone quietly nodded. They never heard of such an event.

"Since you are so easily deceived and controlled by fairy tales, then let this one be your new guide," Somnus said as he stood up from the throne and prepared to depart into the corridors that led to the private wings. "In the halls of Valhalla, where the brave shall live forever."

The Commander cracked a smile at those words.

Finally, Somnus departed, giving them one final order:

"Commence operation Ragnarok."