Escalating the War Crisis
I stood before the full-length mirror, fully clad in my armor. My reflection stared back with grim determination etched across my face. That was all thanks to Padilla, who was right beside me, draping a crimson cape over my shoulders.
I had to keep my expression in check. If I let my true feelings slip now, everything we'd planned up to this point would go up in smoke.
I placed my hand over hers as it rested worriedly on my shoulder.
"Padilla. You should've told me sooner. Why hold back?"
She looked sheepish.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize the situation in the Orc Plains was such a major threat to our Kara Kingdom."
"Eh, no need to apologize. Now that I know, we can deal with it. Grollmog's forces haven't fully assembled yet, so if we hurry, we can shore up our defenses thoroughly."
Padilla stepped in front of me.
"But is gathering an army under Grollmog really that serious?"
"Yeah."
"Why? Aren't they targeting the Yosrahim Empire?"
I cleared my throat.
"Padilla. Right now, only three nations border the Orc Plains: the Yosrahim Empire, the Kalligo Kingdom, and our Kara Kingdom."
"Yes, I know."
"Kalligo's an ally to the orcs, though, so realistically, only two nations are viable targets for their massive army: Yosrahim and us. This current standoff could be a feint, and the moment they turn their blades on us, Kara's done for. Got it?"
Deception ran rampant in war. The world thought Grollmog's orc horde was barreling toward Yosrahim, but we couldn't rule out otherwise.
"Historically, the orcs haven't shown much interest in our Great Desert."
I knew that. The orcs had little use for the barren Great Desert with its scarce food resources. Nothing worth looting there. Sure, Kara Castle held plenty of gold and jewels, but they didn't crave it, and crossing over 900 kilometers of wasteland wasn't appealing.
"Not anymore. Not since we stepped in. To the orcs, Kara's a dagger at their back now. Strategically, they have to hit us. Can't ignore an itch like that, no matter what they're plotting."
"R-Really?"
"Yeah. They might skip us this time—Kara's still young, not projecting power outward yet. But eventually, to neutralize or subjugate that backstabber, they'll cross the desert. Could be now."
Padilla's face drained of color. The orc horde was formidable. Kara wouldn't fall easily, but we'd take heavy losses.
"Ah..."
"And if Grollmog allies with the Bastain Kingdom? Total nightmare. We'd be hit from both sides, and if they win, they'd carve us up like a pie—Bastain takes Jores Island, Grollmog claims the desert. Keep a close eye on Bastain too."
"Of course, but we have a mutual non-aggression pact with them, right?"
I let out a long sigh.
"Padilla. History's full of pacts that meant jack squat."
"Why?"
"They're signed when you want to dodge war but sense it's coming anyway."
"So...?"
"Yeah. War's inevitable eventually."
I placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Kara's in a do-or-die spot right now. Stay sharp."
"Yes. Understood."
"Alright, let's move. They're waiting."
"Yes."
I headed to the throne room with Padilla for the emergency national security council.
Civil and military officials, generals in full armor, filled the hall. As Padilla and I entered, they parted like the sea, clearing a path. She took the jade throne, and I bellowed to the assembly.
"Kara Kingdom's first National Emergency Security Council is now in session. Grand General Razal, begin."
Razal launched into the briefing. It was lengthy, but nothing I hadn't already warned Padilla about.
As he spoke, the officials' faces turned ashen. His logic was airtight—historically and strategically. No great power ever ignored a dagger at its back, and non-aggression pacts were worthless paper.
Udin Prime Minister spoke first.
"My lord. What are the odds Bastain and Grollmog's forces have secretly allied?"
"The moment Grollmog marches on Kara, assume they're allied. Both have clear motives to hit us—no idiots would pass that up."
Murmurs rippled through the officials and generals. If I was right, it was dire.
Kara's total forces numbered under 150,000. An alliance could muster over 500,000 invaders.
Foreign Minister Elmas stepped forward.
"But the orcs have been friendly toward us. I don't see war breaking out immediately..."
I eyed Elmas. He wasn't a fool. Grollmog couldn't spare attention for Kara yet—not with Yosrahim looming.
"Conditions are ripe, though, and Grollmog's army is gearing up hard. With our border right there, dropping our guard would be idiotic. We'd look like a free lunch. If those 'peaceful' signals are a ruse hiding real intent, Kara's toast. Can you handle that, Foreign Minister?"
"A strong military signal from us would make Grollmog wary too. It'd heighten tensions between our nations."
Exactly what I wanted. Massing troops on the border would freeze Grollmog's moves.
"That's why we'll pair it with trade to ease misunderstandings."
"Trade?"
"Swap their Chaos Pieces for our food surplus."
Elmas nodded thoughtfully. Not a bad idea.
Orcs on their harsh plains always starved. Selling them food would earn gratitude.
"Sounds good, but our desert lacks surplus too."
I waved it off.
"Nah. We've got stockpiles from Cokt Kingdom, and ramping up trade ships lets us import from Azenka Continent. Finish the railroads, and we can funnel global surpluses straight to the orcs."
"Food relay trade?"
"Yep."
If executed, it'd defuse major tensions between orcs and humans, even if not full peace. No need to raid if food flowed freely.
"Then we need those railroads done yesterday."
"Damn right."
All eyes turned to Minister of Works Shamus. Railroads were his domain.
Udin asked on behalf of everyone.
"Minister of Works. Railroad progress?"
Shamus advanced.
"The Kara-Mrisella line's complete and test-running mana locomotives. Kara-Bamir and Kara-Lamis lines finish by next spring."
Railroads were Kara's lifeline, its lifeblood.
We'd poured everything into them—top budget priority, massive labor from central-eastern desert migrants. Hammers rang and beast carts rumbled across the sands nonstop.
I addressed Shamus.
"No delays?"
"None, sire. On schedule."
"Good."
I didn't push harder. Railroads would evacuate refugees later. Rushing now risked shoddy work and eternal regret.
"Marud."
Marud stepped up—a 7-cycle mage overseeing weapons smoke and industrial labs.
"Yes."
"Any promising new weapons lately?"
"A few solid ones."
"Like?"
"Lightning rods, for starters."
Lightning rods were long poles with shock magic arrays, made for spearing sea beasts but usable atop walls against gate-rushing foes.
I shook my head. Decent, but not thrilling. Better for sea monsters.
"Next?"
"Rapid-fire Magic Bullet Launcher."
"Rapid-fire? I'm listening."
"Standard launcher minus tracking and lock-on magic. Loses accuracy, but fires faster with 140m range—a breakthrough."
Promising. Range was nice, but burst fire? Perfect for horde control.
Dol-hwasal barrages could shred fast fliers like Sky Despair too.
"Accuracy drop?"
"Straight-line shots. Spray-and-pray—gunnery skill matters most."
"Great. Mass-produce on completion."
Marud looked troubled.
"One big unavoidable flaw, though."
"Shoot."
"High fire rate guzzles essence mana. Even small ones can't sustain wild firing."
I brushed it off.
Burst fire's the star—mana drain was inevitable.
Regular launchers couldn't even burst-fire.
"Fine. Field commanders'll manage. Just make 'em reliable."
"Yes, sire."
"Anything else?"
Marud pitched more. Clever ideas, but nothing wowed me.
No matter. The rapid-fire launcher was a win—minor tweak on the classic, but it'd bolster humanity's forces later.
I slipped in one last order.
"Oh, that Magic Armor Car your industrial lab's developing?"
"Yes. Two-seater prototype's built and testing."
"Good. Get weapons lab involved—build one with high output, metal plating to shrug off arrows and spears. Like armoring a horse into heavy cavalry."
Marud bowed deeply, getting it.
"Understood."
I turned to Grand General Razal.
"Razal. Total mobilizable forces now?"
"18,000. But we must reserve for potential Bastain invasion—not all to Orc Plains."
"9,000 possible?"
"Yes."
Plus frontline central troops: 15,000 total. Split for two routes: 7,500 each.
I faced the generals.
"7,500 to hold off a possible 300,000 orcs. Who’s in?"
"I'll go."
Akam and Adan volunteered. I shook my head at Akam.
"Akam General, you hold Braam against Bastain. Anyone else?"
Guest general Zenbe stepped up.
"Human. I'll lead the orc mercenaries."
I smirked. Western desert orc mercs numbered over 6,000. With Zenbe, we'd top 20,000 at the front.
His rep alone was a deterrent in orc society.
"Perfect. You're on, old man."
"Got it."
I eyed Adan and Zenbe.
"Your mission: Lock down the front. If Grollmog invades, hold till central reinforcements. Clear?"
"Yes!"
"Got it."
Bardru to Zenbe, Bamir to Adan. About 20,000 total.
Woefully short for 300,000 orcs, but irrelevant. No war coming—this was pure escalation, no deeper strategy.
'Good. Nail this, and humanity gets way stronger.'
Success meant no Yosrahim-orc war. Grollmog lives, no orc fractures at apocalypse.
Crisis would forge Kara's military—new weapons, better training.
And personally? I'd stay single longer.
Personal gain aligning with the greater good: true justice. Well, mostly.