Reincarnating Into A Fantasy World As An Autonomous Machine Arsenal 76 Log 076: Come, Ruin

Not that Somnus was idle, or interested in helplessly accepting his fate. Why would he do such a thing when his enemy brought him the very keys to the Empire? Peron said it himself: The enemy is using Gateways.

Somnus did not know what Gateways were, but he lived long enough in this world to know that it had something to do with travel. After all, how could the Empire send an army from their mainlands to Somnus's in such a short time? All Somnus had to do now was to capture the Gateway, or if it was a spell, observe its magical circle. Aurora would be proven doubly right, then; if Somnus gained access to the Empire through a Gateway, there would be no more shelter from the storm.

Somnus thought he would have to invade the Elven lands to get to the Empire—even decided that the war had already been declared—yet this world still delivered solutions he could not think of. This made him feel immature in a way—ill-equipped to thrive in this world—but this was not a foreign feeling nor something inherent to his human body. As a machine, his dedication to his own evolution and improvement left him feeling like this all the time. Between annihilating all life on t.i.tan to invading the cloud cities of Venus, he had to go through countless iterations of self-evolution to handle the different requirements of the various theaters of war he found himself in. In that sense, there was no one in this world who was better equipped than Somnus for the task. Who else could so readily accept and see their flaws and then adapt to the situation? Without self-deception? Without making excuses?

Somnus noticed Gemma leave the Inn several times and then come back to briefly rest in her room. He learned from Lod that she was going outside to help survivors of Aurora's attack. Lod described her efforts as very effective, proving herself to be a capable leader and administrator as she organized and directed efforts to build temporary shelters and aid stations.

But Somnus did not care much for Gemma's resume; another thing captivated his thoughts. Human suffering felt much closer to home now than it ever did before. Not that he felt any sympathy for the humans, but he found himself thinking about their well-being and something very close to concern. These thoughts hammered home the fact that Somnus thought how pointless Aurora's attack was—how unnecessary the collateral damage was. Before he became this wretched existence of flesh and bone, he never would have thought that way. Any collateral damage was good and acceptable—desirable even. So why? Why did he suddenly find it so disagreeable to see humans harmed, even if the reason was strategically sound?

But this feeling did not affect his mission negatively. Actually, it only reinforced his desire to annihilate humanity—as if, somehow, by doing that he would also eliminate this mysterious feeling that he had towards the humans. There was no room in this world for coexistence; the conflict was inevitable—it was destiny itself. When humanity gains the weapons, they would eradicate Somnus. This was guaranteed. This was desirable.

His mission was to eradicate mankind, but not this weak, enslaved creature. Somnus would free them, he would educate them, even give them the weapons. He would teach them how to walk the path of independence, and then, the final sacrifice humanity would place on the altar of progress would be their fragile dependence on Somnus. In that sense, Somnus was the only G.o.d humanity was allowed to wors.h.i.+p: Progress. Destruction was the fuel of forward motion.

At that moment, a red light flew into the sky and exploded like a firework. It was a magical flare. Then followed three green flares, one for each of the organized battlegroups: one for the Deathbringers, one for the Ashborn Knights, and the final one for the human soldiers.

It was like an Exodus—a column of people moving forward, with nowhere else to go but towards the enemy. There was no other home but the enemy's; no mercy or sympathy but for the one that waited on the end of the opponent's blade.

"Let it be so," their determined eyes seemed to speak without words. There was no fear or hesitation; no excitement or anxiety. "Come, ruin. Come, end of all things."

Under the fading rays of sunlight disappearing behind the horizon and painting the sky with twilight, Somnus moved at the head of the column which reorganized into a proper battalion formation. The Deathbringers were organized in a wedge behind Somnus, and two columns followed behind them. The Particles, Baryon and Photon, were positioned at the far flanks of the Deathbringer wedge, commanding fear and respect with their appearance alone. Their metal plated bodies captured the colorful light of the setting sun and it looked as if it wreathed them in fire.

The goblin artificers and other support personnel, such as priests and mages Gemma recruited, were in the far rear of the column, but there were no horses or wagons here. The soldiers wore all the equipment that would be in them. They had no intention of building a camp before the battle or going through any of the pre-battle etiquette. There would be only slaughter ahead, whether the enemy was ready for them or not. Not all the soldiers in the last battlegroup came from Gram. Many of them came from Silversh.o.r.e, which was their home and the Empire took it from them—this is the reason they joined Somnus. For those that came from Gram, however, it was just business as usual. They saw, with their own eyes, Somnus fight at Ord Pa.s.s and achieve the unachievable; That is why it was nothing short of the greatest glory to fight for him. Their zeal approached the level of fanaticism the monsters, especially the goblins, possessed.

As night fell, and the moon became visible in the sky, the army had already marched several kilometers and finally, in the distance, they saw torch and lantern lights illuminate a clearing in the spa.r.s.ely wooded area. The enemy was aware of the approaching army and had already set up battle-lines and defenses in front of the lights.
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What Somnus saw in the low-light was not merely a camp; It was a town of hastily built construction. The enemy numbered more than eighty thousand, and Somnus reasoned that another twenty thousand, at least, was hidden or held back.

In total, and being very generous, Somnus's army had five thousand men, a fifth of which was the elite Ashborn Knights and Deathbringers, and two fifths were support personnel that would not fight. Somnus reasoned his effective manpower numbered one thousand.

One thousand against one hundred thousand. Neither Somnus nor those one thousand seemed worried about the odds. The Deathbringers, especially, seemed fearless. After Ord Pa.s.s, they each gained so many levels and improved their marksmans.h.i.+p skills to the point where their formation was pristine. Their rifles clicked in unison as they switched to the Armor-Piercing setting, which they could not use before.

The Ashborn Knights also gained a lot of levels, and their confidence seemed to inspire the rest of the army. Their shrouds of ash seemed thicker than before and sparked with black lightning. Their swords were pitch black, like fragments of Oblivion itself.

Without even needing the order, the Deathbringer wedge formation changed into that of a line, and all of four hundred of them stood side by side and trained their rifles at the enemy who stood five hundred meters away.

The enemy was deployed in a formation that closely resembled that of a medieval army. Lines of archers in the front of lines of infantry. On the sides, boxes of mages and priests stood, their flanks protected by cavalry in many formations. Their depth and width seemed endless. Even though this was, without a doubt, only a small fraction of the Empire's military power, it was like Somnus was staring at an ocean of people. This was something he never saw before, in all the centuries of his existence. And there was a logical reason for that. No one in Somnus's world would deploy a large and immobile force, like that.

"Surrender!" a voice, amplified through magic, came from the enemy army.

Photon and Baryon charged up their manbeam emitters, and the darkness was momentarily banished by pale blue lances of light that carved into the center of the enemy formation.