Reincarnating Into A Fantasy World As An Autonomous Machine Arsenal 61 Log 061: The Deathbringers

After seven days, the battalion headed west. To the west was the kingdom of Sylestra. It was a proud monarchy that stood for hundreds of years, its ruling dynasty benevolent and prosperous. They never fought a real war, according to Arcadia. There were border disputes and trade embargoes lifted through "violent means with peaceful intentions"... whatever that meant. Sounded like "War, but you have to apologize after stabbing someone". Somnus really did not understand why humans attempt to introduce a principle of moderation and moral into the philosophy of war. It was completely unnecessary.

There was a reason why Sylestra was such a "peaceful" nation. They had access to quite a few resources and precious stones. In the vicinity of Gram, Sylestra was the largest exporter of coal, iron and copper. The Jeweler Guild was also quite popular and they produced works of art that even the Imperial n.o.bles wore. Sylestra was very wealthy and perhaps because of this, it did not want to fight wars. Friends.h.i.+p was the way to deal with Sylestra, as far as other nations were concerned. Not Gram, though. Gram did not need or want friends.

Therefore, it was not surprising to Somnus to hear that Sylestra mostly deployed mercenary forces. Far to the north, along the sh.o.r.e, was a large kingdom made up entirely of elves. The whole forest belonged to them, and humans rarely ventured there. It was called Sylv'alfheim. Although humans don't often venture there, the Sylv'alvari lend their forces to anyone willing to pay the price; they were mercenaries. In fact, the land of the elves was so large, they weren't armies by their standard—they were guilds.

Even Somnus thought that was quite incredible, considering that the largest guilds in the human kingdoms had only around a few thousand members. To have a guild that counts as an entire army, with upwards of ten thousand members… that was quite an achievement.

The western border was mostly mountainous and riddled with river crossings. There was no proper vector of invasion other than the one pa.s.s between two mountain chains: Teron Pa.s.s.

Teron Pa.s.s was a kilometer wide but it was a lot of open terrain. Archers dominated the field there. But Teron Pa.s.s has not met a force like Somnus's, appropriately named, Deathbringers.

The Deathbringers was a Battalion at half-strength, even when being generous with the term. It had four companies and supporting sections in the form of Goblin Engineers who now prefered the term "Artificer".

When the force set out from the mountains where it had trained for seven days, it had nothing to use for transport. Haggard-looking humans and demi-humans walked along the Emperor's Highway on both sides, carrying their rifles and magazines non-stop. This was not how an army marched in this world. Usually, they would carry their armor and weapons on a wagon, and ride horses. This was something entirely different and new. Their formation while walking on the road, two columns on each side, was also something new and never before seen. After all, with seven days, they could only learn the most basic tactics of fighting. Some basic formations and reaction to contact drills which they had no time to even practice.

But this changed very quickly.

Baryon and Photon were the sole vanguard of the column of soldiers. They were far ahead of them and in their path, they had cut down the trees and turned them into planks. The two mechanically-augmented spiders were extremely efficient at processing materials. It was, after all, their primary duty, despite the fact that they were quite likely one of the most dangerous forces in the entire world. Somnus could, probably, with just the two of them, conquer Sylestra. They were that powerful.

However, the true champion of the day were the Goblin Eng—Artificers. People who had the [Trans.m.u.tation] skill were very rare in the world. With a high enough rank in it, Trans.m.u.ters could process a ton of ore a day. Not just process ore, but create something from it. So long as the process of construction was known, Trans.m.u.tation allowed for the shaping and transformation of material to become the object. This involved a lot of disa.s.sembly, but for simple things like nails, bars, knives and swords, it was extremely effective. However, no one really knew how one learned the [Trans.m.u.tation] skill. Without a corresponding Job, teaching someone a skill was not possible unless that skill was mastered. Those who mastered the [Trans.m.u.tation] skill were even rarer and were guarded as state secrets.

On the other hand, all of the Goblin Artificers knew [Trans.m.u.tation], while the rest knew [Reclaim].

Before long, the battalion had carriages and wagons, and although the soldiers still walked on the side of the road, they often rotated s.h.i.+fts to provide rest to the weary. Their ordinary farmer and peasant clothes had been replaced by uniforms that resembled that of the modern day warforces from Somnus's world. They had chest rigs and a unified color-scheme, although it had no camouflage, and they wore dark-green berets. The berets were Somnus's suggestion.

They appeared like a warmachine from another world, but in truth, they were nothing of the sort. They could barely shoot and would get tired and mansick within minutes of operations. Their fitness levels were acceptable, mostly because they worked the fields all day, but they were too dumb and simple to teach any sort of initiative-based tactics. But that was fine. Somnus was all right with that. They didn't need to be precise or masters of warfare. Somnus did not need Spartans or OrbDrop marines. This was because this world has never faced a weapon like an automatic rifle. Magic and swords was a thing of the past now.

Ironically, the evolution of a very advanced [Trans.m.u.tation] skill was [Artifice] which was not that uncommon. Anyone with any skill at crafts unlocked [Artifice] at some point. The Goblin Engineers took pride in learning this skill to the point that they wanted to be called Artificers. Somnus wondered if they knew how ordinary [Artifice] was or if they even cared. [Artifice] mostly allowed a crafter to cross-use learned skills on other crafts, with some limitations, and to help with fatigue while increasing output. It wasn't something that one was proud of. Unless they were a goblin, it seemed.

Teron Pa.s.s was visible in the distance. The pa.s.s was often called the Dragon's Maw for two reasons. The Pa.s.s, situated between the two mountain chains appeared like a maw if someone tried really, really, hard to imagine the resemblence and had a lot of artistic freedom. The other reason was that this place was swarming with dragons. Not the pa.s.s itself, but the mountains were. Mountains were often nesting grounds for dragons and they were very territorial. Every now and again, a convoy would disappear in this Pa.s.s.

Tomorrow morning, however, the food chain would find a new apex predator.

Somnus looked back to his Battalion, in the fading hours of twilight, and took in the faces and demeanors of his new one-of-kind warmachine. They all looked confident and eager to do battle. During their seven day training period, they understood what it was like to have power. Prior to the day when they were recruited by Lod and Det, they were nothing. Farmers, stablehands, gardeners, cooks and smiths. Apprentices, every single one of them. Most of them were minorities, either an economic one or a racial one. Demi-humans were quite prevalent in this little half-strength battalion. But after that day, they became something else. A new kind of minority—the one that could break the steel arms of Fate itself.