Kain felt… weird. He could have sworn that something had happened continuously over the past year, but he could not figure out what it was. However, for better or worse, the omnipresent feeling had vanished, which meant that he now had more attention that could be focused on other projects. As for what he had been doing during that time? He had been engaged in a slow but difficult game of strategy with the Elves of Arcfira. So far there had been no attacks by either party, be it his or theirs, but he could tell that they (the Elves) were getting ready for a new war.

He had tried to delay it as much as possible, and he had actually done that. He had fulfilled his peoples’ desires and given them peace, for a time, but it seemed that they also shared something in common with him that he had not expected. Just like himself, his people were remarkably warlike.

He had expected them to want a peace that lasted multiple years, but after only around half a year there were already numerous voices calling for some kind of military action. It appeared that the Dungeon and even its new addition would not be enough to quench the battle-lust of those who lived under Darksol’s umbrella.

In fact, rather ironically, it seemed that the many peoples of Darksol and its client states shared their rulers’ desire for conflict and violence, even if it was only directed at those not already under Darksol’s sway. The peace that they thought that they wanted had ended up being not what they actually desired, and instead only drove their hunger for endless victory and triumph to further heights.

It was due to this that Kain and Alexis both felt a little bit… well… embarrassed at the fact that they had sent their kids away to a Military Academy for their actions. Perhaps if they had waited a bit longer they would have realized how much their own people actually clamored for war, even when they refused to openly admit it for far too long. Then again, the twins had been acting out more often than not, and their regular school life had begun to deteriorate, which in turn resulted in more than a few parent-teacher conferences.

Despite all of that, Kain had a different way of dealing with war now. Rather than simply jump into it headfirst, he decided that it might instead be best to let the future enemy strike first. He would make damn sure that the blow that they would land would be insignificant at best, but it would be a way to spin the narrative to Darksol’s advantage. After all, future historians tended to view past wars through different ways than those of the time in which a war was fought. It was better to have this be a defensive war, even if only so that future textbooks would put Darksol’s actions in a better light.

To that end, Kain began to maneuver the forces he had near the (eventual) front in just the right way. Armies were now marching in a very particular routine which, if one looked hard enough, would show that the patrol routes now had regularly occurring gaps and other points of weakness. Those forces directly at the (soon-to-be) front were comprised of nothing but the undead, and cheap, disposable, and easily replaceable undead at that.

What was now on full display was not Darksol’s best, nor was it even the most average. No, this was a force made up of chaff that would almost certainly be utterly curb-stomped into oblivion in any kind of decent engagement, and Kain knew that. But, then again, that was all part of the plan. Before they replaced the better troops, Kain had made sure to make one hell of a show for any nosey Elves watching from their hiding spots.

Any decent military commander worth their salt would see that the forces that were now defending Darksol’s borders were there simply to act as bait. It should have been plain to see that all the hubbub and pageantry that had preceded the switch between forces was a show designed to lull any would-be attackers into a false sense of security.

And yet, as you might imagine from the typically haughty, arrogant, self-absorbed, knife-eared, militant hippies that called Arcfira their home, they took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. Anyone who watched the borders between Arcfira and Darksol’s newest addition to the Empire could tell that the tree-hugging ensemble cast of countless different types of Elven forms were now building up for a major offensive, and such things did not surprise Kain in the slightest.

What did surprise him was the fact that it appeared that the main bulk of the first assault would be made of one particular type of elf. Through the eyes of his creations and from accounts of those who lived, Kain roughly pieced together what these special elves were all about. They were many, but they wore little to no armor, they also carried no weapons that could be seen, save for a bag filled with a certain type of plant leaves.

Likewise, they constantly had a glazed expression on their faces, and they not only seemed to not give a single fuck about much of anything, but they also constantly ate more than what their body needed. Based on this, Kain assumed that the Elf Tribes were going to fight cannon fodder with cannon fodder and, as there were no confirmed designations for the myriad Elf Tribes, Kain was forced to bite the bullet and make a pun that was long since overdue.

These poor elves would essentially be sent to what was likely to be their death, all so that more ‘desirable’ elves could swoop in and take the glory from the chill and relaxed stoners. For better or for worse, the first major fight in the coming war would be between the shambling trash of Darksol and a bunch of ‘high’ Elves. Thank god that the undead couldn’t get a contact high from these people…