Polymath Redux

Chapter 8//The Old Guard

Strategic Operations War Room: Xagontetia

Ever since their neighbouring power of the ‘Baliazoural Empire’ had declared war, the country known as ‘Xagontetia’ had been run by a joint cabinet comprising of the Royal Family and the top brass of the Ministry of War. That said, most members of the War Ministry were nobles from distinguished families and had obtained their positions not from merit but due to family background and political pressure- nepotism. It was something the royal family should’ve seen from a mile away, but most of the ‘goals’ and ‘plans’ proposed by these so called ‘Generals’ were mere thinly-veiled excuses to increase their own territory and wealth; things like the ‘safety of the civilians’ or ‘winning the war’ were a secondary concern. Most of these people had never even what the front lines were like and were thus horrendously out of touch with reality; viewing the world through a map and pointing at what they wanted like some kind of buffet was the extent of their ‘military expertise’.

So then, perhaps it was a testament to the hard work and dedication of the civilians or just their good luck, but it was an honest-to-god miracle that this country could remain functional with such an asinine government at its helm.

‘These people probably have their escape routes all mapped out for when things go south,’ thought the sole individual who could be said to truly be carrying the burdens and future of Xagontetia- First Prince ‘Bradley Avon Leonhardt’. With only a handful of competent officers, the first prince had somehow kept the Xagontetian military from falling apart and had achieved decent success in holding back the superior Empire. That said, ‘we’re nearing the end of our rope. If we don’t get more reinforcements soon, we’ll be overrun.’

“So? What’s your opinion, Prince Bradley?” asked one of the ‘Generals’. He was an obtuse man with an arrogant smirk and the only redeemable feature was his well-trimmed moustache and nothing more. ‘Parasite’ was the term that immediately came to the prince’s mind, but he couldn’t say this out aloud no matter how much he wanted to. The fact was, as horribly incompetent as these people were, they held a tremendous amount of power and could easily, metaphorically flip the table over on the Xagontetian nation. It was frankly revolting that he had to breathe the same air with these kinds of parasites, but for now he paid lip service.

“Sorry, could you repeat your plan?” asked the prince while trying to maintain a cordial demeanour.

“My, my, please pay more attention,” the jolly fat man scoffed.

‘I would if shit and candies weren’t the only thing spewing from your mouth,’ so thought the prince.

The chubby man walked over to the centre of the room where there was a map of the shared borders between Xagontetia and the Baliazoural Empire. He pointed his thick, greasy finger at the north-eastern border and explained his ‘great plan’. “I believe we should focus our efforts on claiming this piece of land here.” The place he singled out was a non-critical landmass, but there were rumours it housed a rich amount of resources. “Not only are precious raw materials said to be abundant, but if we can take it before the Empire it will then become possible to construct fortifications around it. What do you think?”

It was so blatantly obvious why this parasite wanted that land that the prince couldn’t help but cringe- subtly. While it was a goldmine for unclaimed resources, there was a reason not even the Baliazoural Empire had laid claim to that place yet. Three reasons: first was the problem with terrain; as 90% of it was swampland, traversing it with any number of units would prove extremely inefficient and slow. The second was the presence of very powerful and unknown monsters. There have been expeditions into the swamplands in the past using adventurers, but those that returned also came back mentally disturbed. There was something dark and evil lurking there that it wasn’t worth the manpower to procure those resources. The last reason was its proximity to the war, or rather its distance. The highlighted territory was so far north it had no direct bearing on the war front; there was no tactical advantage to taking the land. In other words, this parasite only wanted to siphon resources to fatten up his own wallet.

Given these facts, the prince’s eyes twitched in annoyance. This farce of a meeting was almost criminal in how much time it wasted. There were a thousand other things he could be doing right now, but these idiots had kept him from them. The prince turned to his side where his aged father- King Aldern Avon Leonhardt- sat quietly while listening to this rubbish as if it had actual value. In the first place, it was his father that agreed to this joint cabinet for some inexplicable reason. Not only that, but the other ‘Generals’ all seemed to be in agreement with what the parasite was saying. Of course, they were all in it together to run this scam.

While suppressing his frustration, the prince replied, “hmm, while I can see your reasoning for the proposal, I don’t think we should do that. That place is simply too dangerous for our soldiers, and the land around it is too difficult to traverse. We’re likely to lose soldiers unnecessarily, and there’s no guarantee we’d be able to procure those resources. For now, we should focus our efforts on border defence.” The prince then pointed out more reasonable and easily fortifiable locations. “Shoring up around here, here and here may be the best course of actions for the time being.”

The parasitic general let out a disappointed sigh as if he were the prince’s superior. “Haah… I had thought the prodigious First Prince could see it my way, but it seems you’re still green. Listen, we can’t win a war only by defending, sometimes we need that decisive blow even if it means taking on a risk. If we can get our hands on these treas- I mean resources, we can use it to fund our campaign against the Empire.”

It was as if incompetence had taken human form and then took a dump, and that dump became this turd of a man in front of him. ‘It’s a miracle that he can even tie his own shoelaces,’ thought the prince.

“Just a moment, Lord Paran,” suddenly another general spoke up. “I’m in agreement with the First Prince. Even if we did as you proposed and somehow successfully acquired the resources that still wouldn’t solve our biggest, logistical problem. That being manpower, the reality is that even if we suited all of our men with the best equipment, we just don’t have the numbers to continue waging a war.” It was honestly a surprise for the first prince that there was someone with a semblance of intelligence. The man who was just talking sense was known as Lord ‘Bruont Aidus Shirley’. His appearance was deceptively rotund for how intelligent his words were just now. “If we’re to win this war, then we can’t do this alone. I propose that we focus on holding defensible positions around here,” he pointed out to a hilly area that had a good vantage point and continued, “and hold back the enemy invasion force.”

“What good would just holding that land do? In the end, we can’t win if we don’t strike.”

“Yes, but it would buy us crucial time we can use to gather up potential allies.”

“Potential allies? Just who are you referring to?” asked the parasitic general with his obnoxiously high-pitched voice.

“There are two candidates. The first is up north: the nation of Drakenholdt. They’re powerful Ascended Dragons that would share the same fate as us if we were to fall. I’m sure if we explained this then they’d see reason. The second is to the west: the nation of ‘Ygdra’.”

“Ygdra you say? Those seclusionist elves you mean? As if they’d ever join us to fight a human war.”

“While they have been rather… ‘difficult’ to negotiate with, surely they’d see that the Empire would march onto their lands once Xagontetia has fallen. If we can set up a diplomatic relation, say a ‘coalition’ of our three nations, then perhaps that could tilt the scales in our favour.” General Bruont proposed. At this point the first prince felt like giving a massive round of applause. If it could happen that way, then there was certainly a chance to turn this war around.

Before the meeting could go anywhere, there was a knock at the door. “Excuse me, my Lords. Lunch has been prepared.” One of the female servants had announced from the other side. Of course, this was no time to be gorging themselves when they were at a war meeting, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise when the Generals almost unanimously agreed, “why don’t we wrap up the meeting here for today and discuss it at another time?” and then left the room, leaving only the prince and General Bruont.

“Lord Bruont,” the prince spoke up first. “I’m glad to see not all members of the Ministry of War are hopeless.” It was a snide remark that wouldn’t have flied if it wasn’t Bruont who agreed vehemently.

“Truly,” he replied with a tone of disgust at his peers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they sold out our country just to line up their own pockets. Or rather, I’m more surprised they haven’t already done this.”

“Hahahaaha!” the prince couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “If only there were more people like you.”

“You honour me, your highness.”

“What’s done is done. Shall we go for lunch as well?”

“Very well.”

Yet, as they were about to leave for the cafeteria, one of the prince’s subordinates had come rushing to him bearing a special report. “Your Highness!” cried out a young woman. She looked to be around her early twenties but had a competent feel about her. Tall, with dark brown hair and stern green eyes; her slender yet muscular figure suited her military outfit quite well. “There’s something you should look at,” she passed over to him a monochromatic photograph.

Photography had been a newly introduced technology, but there was much left to be desired about its practicality. The quality wasn’t too great and oftentimes great concentration was necessary to even make out what the picture was supposed to be. It being in black and white was also no real help. That said, the photo given to the prince was a little clearer than most.

“It… seems to be a magical phenomenon of sorts,” General Bruont commented as he looked over the prince’s shoulders. The picture was that of a bright pillar surging up from the forest. Unfortunately, as it wasn’t in colour, there was still a lot of mystery to what it was exactly. “By the looks of the environ, perhaps the forests near the western borders?”

“It is as you say, Lord Bruont,” the female subordinate nodded. “This picture was taken by one of our border patrols about five days ago near the north-western borders.”

“North-west? Isn’t that near Drakenholdt? Are they planning something?”

“We’re unsure,” the female subordinate shook her head. “What should we do?”

The prince let out a sigh, “as if the Empire banging at our door wasn’t enough. Now this.” After a moment of contemplation, he turned to his subordinate and ordered, “we’ll need to investigate it. Send in Petra’s group to get a grasp of the situation.”