CHAPTER 8: MECHANIZED WARFARE

***The city of Berondin…***

A loud trumpet blast echoed from somewhere in the forest to Berondin’s west. So loud was the sound that everyone within the city limits were awakened from their long sleep. The warriors of the Berondin army quickly went to their positions, weapons ready, though they never drew it out. This was because, that trumpet was the signal from the elder, the Lord Fenorian, and his party arriving.

“!!!”

Finally, after waiting for a few moments, the Berondin lord’s group appeared. The Lady Elsa, taking a few of her elves with her, came out of the city limits to meet the former.

“Welcome back, milord,” the army leader greeted. “Glad to see you and your party safe.”

“Yes, and I’m glad that we’re out of that hell,” the Lord Fenorian replied. “Tenvin didn’t make it.”

The Lady Elsa fell silent when she heard the news. Tenvin was a master scout in their city, and his loss was a big blow to their forces.

“We don’t know what happened,” the Berondin lord explained. “We saw an explosion at the Saint’s Tree, so I ordered Tenvin to check it out. He never returned.”

“A prison break occurred just as we’re observing the area,” the Lord Ingwer entered the conversation. “According to the prisoners we saved, they were running from the ‘undead’ warriors of the Life Guards.”

“Wait,” the Lady Elsa quipped. “I’m confused; there are prisoners in the Saint’s Tree? And the Life Guards have become undead?”

“I’m also as confused as you are, milady,” the Lord Fenorian commented. “However, the captain of the Life Guards himself, Sir Eldarv, is one of those we brought here. He told us that whoever it is sitting on the throne of the Saint’s Tree isn’t human…nor mortal, and his corps was already turned into undead.”

“If I may add,” the Lord Ingwer interjected, “my spymaster, Cerdan, is the other elf we rescued. He confirmed the words of Sir Eldarv, having been captured by that impostor before. He also said that the cities being destroyed by the undead armies of the Saint’s Tree are those who agreed to rebel against the usurper at the holy throne.”

“By the saint…” the other elves from Berondin muttered upon hearing those.

“Well, in any case, with everything that’s going on at the Saint’s Tree, we really need to prepare for war. You know how it goes with us, right? We’re the mud-dwellers; going against the will of the Saint of Cherwoods is our lifestyle. So, it’s not a matter of ‘if’ they will attack us, but of ‘when’,” the Lord Fenorian concluded. “Lord Ingwer, can we also count on your people to fight alongside us in the coming conflict? As you can see, our people are brave but few. We can use some additional warriors to defend Berondin.”

“You don’t need to ask me that, mud-friend,” the Dorian lord replied. “When we decided to come here, it’s already a given that we’ll fight for you and your people.”

“Thank you.”

“Uh…milord,” it was the Lady Elsa. “About the additional warriors, I think there’s no shortage of it now that there are new refugees in our city.”

“What do you mean?”

“Milord, there’s this person who came here a while ago, leading a group of refugees from other destroyed cities of the tree-dwellers,” the Berondin lady paused for a bit to collect herself. “I know…it’s kind of hard to believe, but…he claims to be a god. In fact, he calls himself the Black God, and he says his goal is to defeat the ‘monster at the Saint’s Tree’. Perhaps the council can be convened and talk to him once he returns?”

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**Kuro, at the Amaranthine beaches…**

Of course, just like what the Black God asked from me, I liked to end this conflict as soon as I could. After all, with Seirna, Meanor, and the warrior deity’s expectations ‘riding’ on my back, the pressure for me to deliver was unprecedented. And yes, I hated pressure. It’s the reason I didn’t choose a ‘call center’ job when it was the trend in my country back in my world before. However, I just couldn’t stomach the thought of sending young elves to fight unprepared on a battlefield. If the enemy was competent, it was a sure recipe for disaster.

I, as the Duke of Maverny, am not the 1st Earl of Haig, Sir Douglas Haig. I know I can’t send ‘green’ soldiers to the battlefield, only for them to die without even a chance to fight. This is not the Somme; and it will never be!

“…”

Still, I got to make compromises to speed up the preparations. Basic training was cut to eight weeks, and only included discipline and gun practice. Physical fitness was dropped, and the recruits were soon sent to exercises at the Amaranthine beaches, joining their veteran (former mercenary) comrades.

Just like how I envisioned my plans to happen, the veterans taught the recruits my instructions in assaulting enemy shorelines. The later exercises were not without a hitch, but it was still better and smoothly done compared to the earlier practices.

“…”

However, I still was not satisfied with the results of the amphibious landings.

See, the success of these types of operation relied on the speed and ferocity of the assaulting force to overwhelm and defeat the defenders on the beach. As shown by the latter days of the Normandy Landings, the sluggish advance of the Allied forces towards their ‘first day’ targets gave time to the Germans to combine their broken defenses and armies. The days wasted to achieve the original first-day goals was exploited by the Wehrmacht to mount delaying tactics enough to gather strength that led to the winter counterattack known in my world’s history as the ‘Battle of Bulge’.

I never want that to happen. Of course, as a military commander, I would like their aims achieved efficiently, and on schedule.

But the results of the military simulation produced similar high casualty rates, even with the smokescreen and magic shield spells. All the enemy had to do was to pepper their forces with wave after wave of arrows, whittling the mana of the designated magicians, and causing their barriers to dispel quickly than predicted. Adding to their woes, the field commanders couldn’t make the elves run to reach the enemy fortifications fast enough. The dropping of ‘physical fitness training’ showed its ugly head, and with the heavy equipment carried by each soldier, it’s impossible for them to make a dash to the other end.

Take note. These ‘enemies’ are just human warriors, bounded by human limitations, like weaker eyes compared to elves.

“This won’t do…” I muttered as I read through the reports from the observation posts.

The elvish commanders of the army, and the Lady Hinwe, who joined to watch the preparations, stared at me. Obviously, they didn’t like what they heard. So, as the overall commander of the ‘Elvish Expeditionary Force’, I had to reassure them…

“No, everything is going as intended. However, I’d like to reduce the possible casualty rates; this percentage isn’t acceptable to me.”

“I-I see…well, I understand. Even I don’t want these elves—living here peacefully but ended fighting for my name—to simply die,” the Elf Saint nodded. “But, what do you think we should do?”

“Well, I know you’ve seen it in some mangas you’ve read Your Holiness,” I replied. “I’m thinking of making a tank.”

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The tank. One of the ‘wonder weapons’ of the 20th century Earth.

Born out of humanity’s desire to produce something that would protect their soldiers, all the while giving them offensive powers while hiding, the tank came into fruition in the battlefields of Western Europe during the First World War. By then, the armies of Britain, France and Germany were locked in bitter trench warfare, and the ‘glorious’ bayonet and cavalry charges turned suicidal because of the appearance of machine guns, use of concertina wires, and the evolution of artillery tactics brought forth by the Industrial Revolution.

Well, originally, the word ‘tank’ was just a code for the armored vehicle armed with heavy guns. The actual term meant for it by its designers was ‘landship’, after the idea back then of naval ships crossing lands…and bulldozing enemies. However, the ‘tank’ stuck, and it’s used since then.

The original ‘tank’, the British ‘Mark I’—a trapezoidal armored vehicle with canons or machine guns to its sides—was first used at the height of the 1916 Battle of the Somme (in a place called Flers-Courcelette), where many of those bogged down and became sitting ducks to the German artillery crews. For fairness, however, it was because the tank tactics and designs were still in its infancy during that period, that led to its failure.

Nevertheless, the tank’s first successful deployment, though, was in the 1917 Battle of Cambrai, where masses of tanks were ordered to drive through the enemy defenses without the preliminary bombardment. Germans were shocked at the site of a horde of these behemoths charging towards their lines, which the British exploited till their supply lines were stretched to its limits, and failed to support the tanks’ gains. But, even with a mixed result, the potential of the tank and armored warfare became known to every military strategist. From then on, tanks became a mainstay in almost every armed force in my old world.

And yes, I plan to bring that technology here…

Fortunately for the Elvish Expeditionary Force, I came from a world where tank tactics and designs were already refined and proven. The learning curve was significantly smaller, and I just had to adapt the ‘weapon system’ to the geography of the invasion site, and get the good aspects of every tank design I knew, then incorporate those to the one we’d produce. Also, since we expect that our enemies were only armed with bows and arrows, the armor thickness requirements would significantly be less than the ones in my world, making the vehicle lighter and cheaper to make.

“…”

For the hull, I took inspiration from the best tank design of World War 2: the T-34. Its sloped armor was hard to penetrate even by the anti-tank guns of the Wehrmacht, and its wide tracks were adapted for uneven and unstable terrain (such as muddy battlefields common in Soviet Union back then). A crew of four would operate the machine; a commander, a gunner, a driver and a loader. Of course, there were no machine guns invented in this world yet, so we’d have to be content with using ‘embrasures’ to allow the tank crews to defend themselves against enemy infantry. I put two embrasures on each side of the tank design I was working on, just to be sure.

The driver’s window was secured by a wire mesh, so arrows couldn’t get in. See, I was aware of how deadly accurate the elves were; they could hit even a small slit from a safe distance, so I won’t take my chances. Another precaution I’d like to take was the additional space behind the tank, which would serve as a ‘personnel carrier’, and could double as an ‘emergency medevac’. I guess four to six elves could fit in it? Or as the engine power would allow…

Speaking of the engine, we’d be using the steam engine developed by the Royal Academy of Cherwind. It was a proven design that could be found in almost every train model running throughout Chersea, Cherwind and the demon republic, as well as the goblin factories and trade and passenger ships plying the seas. And water was easy to find, too, compared to gasoline/diesel, which I doubt if it even existed here.

And finally, the armament of the tank itself, which I envisioned to be a medium-caliber gun mounted on the turret. However, many of the cannon designs in Chersea, Cherwind and the demon republic were of the ‘Napoleonic-style’ muzzle-loaders that used black powder as propellant. The problem with this was, once the crews fired black powder, it’d fill the interior of the tank with smoke, giving them a hard time breathing and looking for the enemy.

I need a new cannon design that’s loaded via the breech…

“…”

I should talk to Salis about this; maybe she can do something about the gun issue.

But, in any case, the tank blueprint was already finished. All I had to do was to show this to our trusted owl-engineer, and she could do adjustments to improve on the design. A smile appeared on my lips as I put down the pencil and admired my drawing.

It’s time for Chersea to witness the potential of mechanized warfare.

----------

***Somewhere in Cherwoods…***

Ever since his failure in convincing the people of elvish city of Elgon, the Black God wandered the entire region of Cherwoods looking for other cities who might join his cause, like the city of Berondin. However, much to his dismay, the settlements he went to were either ransacked, or its inhabitants were too scared to fight back unless the enemy itself was at their gates.

For these, the Black God washed his hands from the responsibility.

“…”

There were sporadic bands of survivors he found in the forests, hiding from the undead army that was roaming the realm, or so they believed. The Black God would personally lead them to the city of Berondin, so that soon, the mud-elves were filled with refugees waiting for their help.

Of course, the warrior deity won’t send people to them without compensation. He would give them advice on how to better manage their scarce resources, or give them his blessings that multiplied their food stocks. Another benefit of having his favor was that, the Berondin elves were afforded protection, so that the undead elves and the influence of the Seductress won’t creep towards their place.

However…

“…”

At that moment, the Black God stopped from his tracks. While he could still feel the divine powers he was bestowed with, the warrior deity could also tell that mortality was slowly returning to him…a consequence of ‘tying’ himself to the timeline of the world.

It only means that the High King of the Gods succeeded relaying his final request to the Lady of Time.

The Black God turned his gaze on the azure skies of Cherwoods, and wondered of when Kuro would launch his long-awaited invasion. His time was never unlimited, and the longer he delayed, the greater his mortality would be. And if it was completed, their chances of defeating the Seductress would be slim.

“…”

However, the warrior god could only hope, and put his trust in that human otherworlder, for he had no other choice. Even if he wanted to go, and repeat the timeline, it won’t be possible anymore.

This is his last chance to exact his revenge on that monster sitting at the Elf Saint’s throne.

The faces of the people he loved suddenly flashed through his mind. The Black God could only remember them, as they were his motivation to go on, even as everything was already lost to him. Taking a deep breath, the warrior deity steeled himself, as he drew his sword, and attacked a party of undead elves roaming near his spot.

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***The city of Berondin***

Once again, the Lord Ingwer of Dorian found himself in the middle of the council of the city elders, though this time, he was with the former spy, Cerdan. The topic of their meeting was the issue of growing number of refugees in the settlement, and the proposal of the Dorian lord to train and raise an army of elves to attack the Saint’s Tree.

“While I do find the suggestion plausible,” the Lord Fenorian raised his objection, “our next problem is the equipment for these warriors you’ll recruit. Obviously, we can’t send elves to war without proper armor, and weapons.”

“Your concerns are true, milord,” the Lord Ingwer answered. “But, we have to make do with whatever we have. As such, we can fashion weapons from wood and stone, like spears, and bows from the nearby forest.”

“You’ll be fighting an enemy armed with steel swords, and bows from the finest wood,” the Lady Elsa pointed out. “Yet, you’re sending your people to their deaths without a chance to fight?”

The former spy raised his hand to speak, which was granted to him.

“Great lords and ladies of the city council,” Cerdan began. “While I agree with your observations that the ‘army’ the Lord Ingwer is proposing to raise would be no more than an angry mob, we’re counting on the hope that Her Holiness, the Lady Hinwe Tal-Inwir will return along with the legendary human hero, the Lord Kuro of Arles. Because of this, I’m backing the Lord Ingwer’s suggestion to train the refugees in the art of warfare, so when that moment comes, we can all say that we helped a human gain our land…instead of just him grabbing all the credit.”

The elders were discussing amongst themselves what the former spy revealed at their council. The Lord Ingwer couldn’t hide his surprise at Cerdan’s words; but when he turned to him for explanations, the elf only winked at the Dorian Lord.

Finally, the Lord Fenorian came out with their verdict…

“Well, this council thinks that raising an army from the refugees wouldn’t hurt the city of Berondin itself, though for its needs, the Lord Ingwer shall find the means and resources. Moreover, it can also help in securing the lands of the forest elves, should the need for it arises. So, we’ll give our permission for this plan.”

The Lord Ingwer and Cerdan were happy with the decision, as it was one step closer to the ideas of the Lord Kuro of Arles in helping them topple the usurper at the Saint’s Tree.

The Lady Elsa, however, remained a skeptic. “Mister Cerdan,” she asked, “you seemed so confident in this human called ‘Kuro of Arles’. Can you tell us why?”

“Of course, milady,” the former spy bowed first, before continuing. “you see, the Lord Kuro of Arles is no ordinary human. He is like the hero of old, the Lady Cassandra David, whom we know, is a person from another world.”

The council was quiet. Every elder leaned forward to hear the story of Cerdan…

“However, if the Lady Cassandra David is the hero of the old ages, then the Lord Kuro of Arles is the living legend! He is the hero for the humans, the beastmen and the demons; the saints trust him, and the kings and queens of the land revere his wisdom.”

“But there’s that ‘Kuro of Arles’ in the Saint’s Tree—”

“That’s an impostor, as the Lord Ingwer told you before,” the former spy declared. “I say it with confidence, for I saw with my eyes how great is this human noble…perhaps even greater than the Lady Cassandra David herself!”

“A brave claim, my dear friend,” the Lady Elsa countered. “Let’s say that one in the tree palace killing your brethren is a fake, but to say that he’s greater than the revered hero of old is brave—if not reckless.”

“Oh, with all my respects, elder, I won’t even try to convince you about this human. We’ll all see his greatness when the time comes!”

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**Kuro**

Okay, so with all the talks and negotiations going around me at the moment, I rarely got the time to take a break. Nevertheless, even when it’s rare, there were still opportunities to stop, go to the back seat, and relax.

“…”

And it is one of those moments…

Spending my time alone in the gardens of the Dupree palace was a treat for me, for I always loved resting in the middle of nature. Good thing the previous owner of this place had a table and set of chairs put nearby, so I could read books while feeling the gentle breeze on my face.

“…”

For a while now, I’ve noticed some of the off-duty paladins passing by my spot. Well, I considered them part of my household, so they could freely do whatever they wanted. However, for some weird reason, whenever they walk by, they would suddenly giggle, and talk in whispers.

I tried not to pay attention to them, but soon, it became apparent that I was in their sights whenever they pass.

“Err…” I gently asked, careful not to scare them. “…is there any problem, miladies?”

“Kyaa!!!” the off-duty paladins suddenly ran off, their faces were red.

Now I wondered what the hell did I just do?

----------

So yeah, I think this wasn’t normal.

“…”

The same thing happened to the other paladins, even the ones on duty. Well, they didn’t run when I approached them, but they did lower their heads, as if averting their gazes from my face. There’s also a slight blushing on their cheeks whenever I do that, so I quickly went to look at the mirror for anything wrong about my appearance.

Hmm…so far so good.

‘What’s wrong, Kuro?’ Gaius asked.

Have you seen the paladins on how they treat me?

‘I don’t know. Did you do something?’

I have no idea.

‘You know women,’ the Roman answered. ‘We don’t know what we did, but we really did something. It’s up to us to know, though…’

Since Gaius was not helping with his replies, I chose not to talk to him for a while, when I was figuring out what I did. And then…

“!!!”

“Oof!” It was a paladin. I think her name’s Lady Myrene, baroness from the kingdom of Halveth. She bumped unto me while I was walking and talking with Gaius. “I-I-I’m sorry, milord!” she blurted out, her cheeks red and quickly avoiding my stare.

“No, it’s okay,” I reassured her. But I also asked, “Uh, is there anything wrong with my face that’s bothering everyone?”

“Ah! My apologies, milord!” the baroness quickly answered, shaking her head. “There’s no problem with your looks; I even invoke the oath of us, paladins, if you don’t believe my words.”

“Then, why’s everyone avoiding me like a plague?”

The paladin was silent. She also turned to the side, so I couldn’t clearly see her face.

“Lady Myrene?”

“S-Sire?”

“Do you swear—by invoking your oath to the paladin and the Holy Saint, Madelaine Ann—that you’ll never lie to me?”

“O-Of course, milord! I’m a paladin; we are the holy soldiers of the Saint, and the god she represents!”

“Then tell me what’s wrong with me.”

The Lady Myrene gave me a long stare, as if I just told her the most ridiculous thing she heard. Then, with great difficulty, she asked me, “M-Milord, do you really wish to know?”

“Err…of course. I don’t think it warrants any serious offense if I did learn what’s wrong with me.”

The paladin’s cheeks went even redder than the last time. She suddenly covered her face, though her fingers were separated enough for her to peek from. I followed her eyes, as she looked on my face…then, slowly going down to my…

Wait, why is she looking at my…

“Milady…”

“I’m sorry, milord, but I can’t imagine how big…” she paused for a deep breath, then pulled a book—actually it looked like a manga, from her clothing. The paladin handed it to me.

On the cover was a prominent illustration of a character with a striking semblance to me, only more handsome than the actual person. But never mind that; what actually got my attention was the ‘thing’ below the character…

It’s freaking huge!

‘Kuro, what the fuck—’ even Gaius exclaimed from inside my mind.

“I-It’s fine, milady…” I was shaken by the revelation, but I still reassured the paladin. “Let me just ask you where’d you get this…h*ntai stuff?”

“The Lady Hinwe sold it to us,” she admitted.

----------

Okay, so now that everyone saw ‘that’ in the doujin stuff the Elf Saint made, I had to ask the culprit herself why she created that cursed thing. Well, it’s not that I was offended; in fact, I was amused by it. However, I was worried that such type of literature would be disseminated all over Chersea, Cherwind and the demon republic that people might’ve strange ideas about the bloke that saved their asses.

To my complete and utter shock, it was not only the Lady Hinwe who thought of that, but also the other saints, with the connivance of the Beastman Queen and the Demon Lord President.

“Err…I-I’m sorry, Kuro,” Her Lazy Holiness bowed. “You see, everyone wants to help you gather funds. But we all know you won’t accept money from our own purses, so…yeah, I came up with this plan to make a doujin based on you.”

I don’t know if I’d laugh or cry at her words. I mean, everyone’s just worried about me, but…the h*ntai…

“No worries, Kuro,” Maddie winked at me. “We only sold that to the nobles who love you. We told them that there’s also a limited-edition illustration inside, so many of them bought more than they should. But, what’s important is we got the funds!”

“…”

“Plus, Master’s h*ntai story is great!” Ruro added. “The beastmen loved it!”

Well, considering that the beastfolk love doing it in front of others, it’s not a surprise to me.

“I did warn them about it, Sir G,” Natasha chuckled.

“Oi, don’t keep up that fake appearance, Natasha!” Maddie countered. “I know you purchased several copies too, for that limited-edition illustration!”

“Natasha won’t do that!” I told them.

The demon saint was awfully quiet.

Well, shit!

“Eh, for me, I got nothing else to do with that, otherworlder,” Seirna said to me.

“Seirna’s the one who asked her spymaster to distribute it!” Ruro revealed.

“I’ll kill you, you stupid dog!” the Overseer Saint then pulled out her rapier, ready to strike the wolf saint with it.

Well, in the end, it’s useless to cry over spilled milk, so I’d just let it go. Chersean and Cherwind customs were vastly different from the culture I grew up with, so appearing on that kind of stuff was not that very much of a big deal. Besides, I’ll just tell my brain it’s not really me…

“By the way, Kuro…”

“Yes, Maddie?”

“Is the Lady Hinwe’s depiction true?”

“Wha—”

The Human Saint immediately got her answer before I could even speak.