Chapter 54
Chapter 54
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: War Preparations (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
With Uncle Zenbe's recruitment, a massive wave of orc mercenaries threw themselves into Kara. Their numbers clocked in at around 3,680 strong—enough to form an entire legion. In response, I appointed Uncle Zenbe as their commander and organized them into a new mercenary army unit.
But that wasn't all. Nationalist Shika tribe warriors, fiercely opposed to the Lobros Kingdom, were flooding into Kara in droves. And word had come via messenger that 1,400 remnants of Braam under Commander Akam's lead were marching toward Kara as well.
These forces were solid additions, no doubt destined to bolster Kara significantly.
Waaghl waaghl.
Thousands had gathered outside the castle in the makeshift training grounds. They were the illegitimate sons and disowned heirs sent by Kara's lesser noble houses.
Ages sixteen to thirty-five.
All of them looked sturdy, with a fierce energy about them—it was clear they'd received proper training back home.
As I stepped onto the platform, a young man at the front raised his hand and fired off a question.
"Master! Are you really granting us lesser noble titles?"
His self-serving attitude, even with his homeland in peril, drew sharp glares from the crowd.
But I liked it. I wasn't scouting for moral paragons; I was hunting gamblers willing to stake it all on fame and fortune. Those who came purely out of patriotism wouldn't survive the unit I'd build—the trials were brutal, and the training even more so.
I fixed my gaze on the young man.
"Your name?"
"Nazir from the House Yusp, ninth-rank lesser nobles."
Ninth-rank lesser nobles were scraping the bottom of the nobility barrel. In military terms, they might aspire to squad leader or platoon sergeant at best.
"Nazir. A lesser noble isn't defined by noble blood going to war—it's the one who charges into battle who earns that noble blood. If you've got the guts to step up and fight, you'll become one."
Nazir beamed. The other young men, who'd been shooting him dirty looks, now lit up too. For those born into lesser noble houses but fated to fall into commoner status, my words were a beacon of hope.
Nazir raised his hand again.
"So what do we do now?"
"First off, quiet down. Let me get a word in."
I cut off the questions and took center stage on the platform. Nazir flushed with embarrassment, and the crowd erupted in laughter.
I activated the magic amplifier and boomed out for all to hear.
"Glad you all made it. I've got plenty to say, but time's short, so I'll keep it brief. This unit is an all-or-nothing suicide squad. Qualifications are strict, training's hell. But make it through, join up, and you'll start as tenth-rank lesser nobles at minimum. Give it everything you've got."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Most hailed from tenth-rank or lower houses. For non-heirs to snag a title equal to—or better than—their patriarch fathers? Unthinkable.
One young man shot his hand up.
"Master. Bayan from House Jarifa."
"Are you seriously granting tenth-rank noble titles?"
"Pass the trials, and yes. Rack up merits in battle, climb higher. Nail a game-changer, and first-rank isn't out of reach."
Stunned silence. First-rank lesser nobles? Only a handful existed in Kara, heads of ancient houses. The idea that they could become such elites? Mind-blowing.
Nazir thrust his hand skyward.
"Master! It's hard to believe. How do we become first-rank nobles?"
"We're at war. Win, and we take it all. Lose, and we lose everything. Victory means titles to spare—no shortage there. I guarantee it: the one who bags Duke Bastain's head gets a vast fief and a lordship when the dust settles."
I was tossing out blank checks like confetti, ignoring all common sense. But it wasn't wrong.
Kara was surrounded by enemies. Most Great Desert powers had sided with Lobros or sat on the fence. Just days ago, the lords of Hussein and Alf—six days and a fortnight east of Kara—had pledged fealty to Lobros.
Win, and it all becomes Kara's.
Nazir swallowed hard.
"So what do we do?"
"Pass the trials first. Test's in exactly one month. Pass here, you're tenth-rank nobles."
"What kind of test?"
"We all mount camels and ride. From sunrise to sunset, circling Kara Castle nonstop. Anyone I don't catch? You're in."
Kara was a massive fortress: three kilometers east-west, three-point-one north-south. Minimum twelve-point-two round trip. Even riding all day, equally mounted, evasion seemed impossible.
"Master. You planning to pass everyone?"
"If you can hit a hundred fifty klicks a day, sure. I go farther."
Eyes bulged in shock. No human covers that daily.
"Impossible!"
"Possible. Not uncharted territory—just lapping the castle. My old subordinates managed it."
"But..."
"Test's in a month. Camels? Unlimited. Methods? Whatever. Just don't get tagged. Training questions? I'll show once a day—ask then. Dismissed!"
I left the trials and training to the recruits and slipped away. They might slack without me watching, but I didn't care.
With their lives and ambitions on the line, anyone slacking sans oversight wasn't worth keeping.
I wanted self-starters—ten, one, whatever.
Entering the palace weapon development lab, I spotted Armida noona hunched over blueprints, head wrapped in frustration. She was crafting the mana weapons I'd requested.
Mana-powered cannon. Or mana cannon for short.
The mana cannon used internal explosion magic to hurl shells over long distances—a staple of the Age of Ruin. Range hit one-point-five kilometers, devastating even to giant mana beasts.
Downside? Useless against mana swordsmen or masters—they'd spot and dodge incoming fire.
"How's it going, noona?"
Armida noona sighed deeply.
"Structurally feasible, but... should I even make it?"
"Why not?"
"I'm a Valkyrie. Can't spread godlike weapons to humans."
"Humans made 'em back in the day. Just lost in practice now."
"Sure?"
"I'd know if they didn't exist. Why else ask you to build it?"
"True enough. Fine."
I sank into the sofa.
"Timeline?"
"Concept's simple—should have prototypes soon. But it'll guzzle essences. Can you source 'em?"
Lowest-grade essences allowed one shot per cannon.
A mana launcher traded precision for that, but mana cannons? Even pros struggled to hit on the first try. Standards called for mid-grade essences—nine shots—but sourcing them was tough. Pricey, and supply wasn't reliable.
Worse, Kara faced an essence shortage. My survival kits two and three burned two top-grade ones, and recent sales of mana launchers to locals and nobles drained the market.
Supreme Commander Razal was scrambling, but no guarantees.
I said the opposite.
"No sweat. Plenty."
"Where?"
"Average homes. Our office has a mid-grade one, right? Raid noble and local elite houses, magic workshops—you'll hit paydirt."
Kara: continental trade hub, world's richest city. Plenty of affluent magic-item buyers, workshops churning out goods for relay trade profits.
Prime looting spots.
"Think they'll hand 'em over?"
"What choice? Sons and husbands dying? Lose the war, raiders take it all anyway. Short-term pain for handing 'em over. Compensate in cash, sure."
"Yeah, that'll work."
Armida noona dove back in. I pulled the ledger from my subspace pouch—more items to reclaim.
'Four hundred fifty-two. Plus home stock of a hundred forty-eight makes around six hundred.'
Consulting lesser nobles and locals netted 14,421 gold leaves. Consulting and book sales: 4,521. Rest—9,944—from mana launcher sales.
I planned to reclaim every launcher sold. Low shot count and short range, sure—but burst firepower and precision topped any weapon.
Too good for dusty drawers and closets.
The door opened; Udin entered.
"Master. There you are."
"Yeah. What's up?"
"Problem."
"What?"
"Bronze shortage halting weapon production."
Bronze was key for crossbow mechanisms and arrowheads. Arrows could sub iron, but mechanisms needed bronze—iron rusted, jammed, failed often.
I fished coins from my pocket.
"Use these. Coinage is bronze alloy, perfect for war materiel."
"Seriously?"
"Promise payback later, requisition from civilians. Folks hoard pocket change—tons in corners."
"Got it."
"Grab castle and estate statues too. Pewter tankards in taverns, mansions—buy 'em up."
"Yes, sir."
As Udin turned, I called him back.
"One more."
"Yes?"
"Any word from the Yosrahim Empire?"
"Not yet."
"Really?"
"Yes."
Is my absence that obvious? Lazy bastards slacking off.
Lobros Kingdom: Prosia Continent's number two, empire-in-waiting powerhouse. Their expansion threatened Yosrahim—sending aid to invaded states made sense.
No contact? Neglect, even with borders blocking.
They could portal in a knight order easy.
Though if Lobros seized the portal tower, they'd be trapped or captured. But that risk was chained tight.
Portal towers: joint property of the Four Great Magic Towers. Lobros wouldn't dare. Sage Sarm wouldn't stand for it—the unified head of the towers, era's sole ninth-circle mage, spiritual pillar of all mages.
"Contact them. Request Viscount Gordon from Lupert Grand Ducal House and the Candle Knight Order. We're desperate—time to beg."
Gordon: entry-level master swordsman, newly recruited this spring. Candle Knights: hadn't left Lupert lands in a decade. They wouldn't know my face.
"Master, will Yosrahim accept? To outsiders, we're..."
"If no? Bluff. Spread rumors Lobros declares empire after swallowing the desert. Hooks 'em instantly."
A sly grin crossed Udin's lips.
Yosrahim dreaded Lobros empirehood most—new empire tanks their prestige.
Ignoring it now? Prestige hit, and Lobros might call their bluff.
"What if we start the rumor ourselves?"
"Not bad. Do it."
"On it."
Udin left. I stared at the ceiling.
Lobros forces: four months out, tangled in rear cleanup and supply lines. Time left—if we hustled, Kara could muster defenses.
Hold till then? Victory chance.
War Preparations (2) End