Kingdom of the Weak 197 An offhand though

The next day, Remian once again took to the road.

By now, they were already in the heart of the world war. All around them were thick columns of smoke; the sound of heavy artillery could be heard on every side. Remian avoided all the columns; each of them was clearly a military position, or else they wouldn't have been fired upon. As long as he kept clear of any viable targets, he figured, he should avoid getting blasted by cannons.

In any case, the fighting should have drifted farther to the west. Germat and Auria were pushing back the Ashdale and La Vive lines at a steady pace. Thinking back to the prices they offered for elemental metals just before the war, Remian wasn't entirely surprised. It was clear that Germat had spent a premium in preparation for the conflict.

In terms of combat ability, Ashdale boasted a lot of experience. Proven in the field over millennia against the likes of the Iron Legion, their military firing formations and drills were famous for their high levels of discipline and order. But Germat had focused more on heavy weapons, armored vehicles carrying magic cannons. With carriages bearing layers of elemental armor too strong to pierce, a robust crystal communication network and oversized cannons supported by specialist magi dedicated to their firing, the orderly firing lines of the Ashdale formations became like pretty targets set up for artillery practice.

Remian came across one such battle early on in the day. A squad of Germat armored carriages met a full battalion of Ashdale musketeers. It had not been a fair fight, to say the least; even before long-ranged Germat artillery started bombarding the Ashdalian lines from afar, the armored carriages themselves were able to blast away at the Ashdalian soldiers with impunity, completely ignoring the measly fire their old weapons were scratching their armor with.

At one point, Remian even felt a bit guilty. Judging by the glint of reddish yellow from the Germat armor, there was a good bit of Fire Copper alloyed into the mix. In other words, one of the reasons why Germat was able to put so much armor on so many carriages was because Remian and Mindy supplied them with Fire Copper.
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But that was the way of the free market. Whoever offered the highest prices got the goods.

It was La Vive who came to the rescue later on. A formation of chevaliers led by a paladin in golden armor came charging in from the opposite side, catching the Germat forces from behind. They had high tier runic weapons that practically flared with magic power. A single lance from the lead paladin was enough to pierce through the central armored carriage like a hot knife through butter. There was an explosion then, and the entire armored carriage went tumbling sideways, rolling over and over before coming to a miserable stop. The other armored carriages did not fare much better.

Still. How many chevaliers did La Vive have on the field? How many Ashdalian soldiers were killed before they could arrive? How many armored carriages did Germat deploy? All of these questions could not be answered by Remian, but as he traveled deeper into the war zone, he could generally see Germat and Auria advancing while Ashdale and La Vive retreated.

Remian had time to think and ponder as he made his way farther in. There were several ways that Ashdale could turn the tides. Mainly, their advantage was in air power. Germat had heavy armor, even on their airships, but while it was a huge advantage on the ground, it actually could be a problem in the air. More weight meant less maneuverability and less hauling capacity, so their logistics and their air combat abilities were going to be limited…

On top of that, they favored heavy cannons. While those could be detrimental to large airships, a swarm of quick agile fighters could quite plausibly overwhelm them without too much trouble. If Ashdale turned their shipyards and industry produce light fighters instead of gigantic airships, they could very well turn the tide of the war based on logistics alone.

Remian itched to make Ashdale an offer they couldn't refuse and make a huge profit out of doing so. In other words, …how much would Ashdale pay for the Wasp?

He was thinking about making a visit to Ashdale when he heard the sound of gunshots in the distance. Remian immediately crouched low, activating the rune shield as he did so, but then realized that the shots were fired on the other side of the near rise. Cautiously, he slipped up and peered over the rise to see what was going on.

There was a scuffle taking place. Unlike the previous larger battles where entire formations blasted away at each other, this was a much smaller scale brawl. Roughly a half-dozen men were fighting hand-to-hand in a valley. It was an unfair fight, two against four, but the two had guns, while the four did not.

Remian did a quick sweep of the vicinity with his Psionic senses, and finding no other people around, he quickly nipped forward. "Light!"

By then, three of the brawlers were dead and one was lying on the ground unconscious. The last two were at the crucial point. At an opportune time, a barrier of light appeared and blocked the strike of a desperate knife-wielder, saving a gunman from the attack. This gave him time to shoot his assailant at point-blank range, and the knife-wielder fell with a resentful look on his face. The fight that he should have won had been lost instead…

The survivor turned to see Remian hobbling towards him. He glanced at his fallen companion, grimaced, and shot dead the last living attacker, the one who was lying on the ground unconscious. Then, he sat down on a rock and waited for Remian to arrive.

"Thank you." He said simply, offering his hand. "Where are you from?"

Remian shook his hand. "The Wildlands, actually. But I've had some dealings with Ashdale." With Germat too, but the soldier didn't need to know that. He was Ashdalian, and the men he'd just killed were Germati.

"So… you're a neutral?" the soldier shook his head. "Best get away from this place."

"I would, just as soon as I find my friends." Remian assured him. "What about you? You had best get back to your people as well."

"Certainly. But perhaps I should escort you and your friends to my base camp first. It's not safe for neutrals out here." He said hesitantly. "You could come over for tea."

This was a good man, Remian felt, to be so concerned over neutral parties, even while he was worried that Remian might be a spy and exposing the location of his base camp might not be the wisest choice he could make…

"On another occasion I would be happy to come over for tea, but right now might not be the best time." Remian said diplomatically.

"Oh, no, no, you should come. You saved my life, it's the least I can do to repay you. I owe you one." Suddenly, the man ditched his suspicions completely.

But Remian shook his head. "Now isn't a good time. But I'll tell you what; if you want to repay me, pass along a message to your higher-ups for me, will you?"

The man hesitated, then nodded. "What message?"

"Tell them that if they want small, agile air-combat aircraft, look for me and my friends in the Wildlands. We are based in KarGoth."

***

At that time, Talia was already on the road heading towards Remian's position.

Yes, she knew she was supposed to sit tight and wait for rescue. Yes, half her group were severely wounded; had they tried to move earlier, one of the wounded would be limping along while she and Holt would have to carry the other two on stretchers one at a time. As of last night, however, they had found an abandoned hand cart and managed to haul it all the way back here. This cart wasn't very big, but it would be enough to load both stretchers.

She knew there were risks, but the fighting around her area was getting much too intense for comfort. After some discussion, she and her crew agreed that their chances of survival were greater if they headed out than in they stayed.

Thus equipped, and supplied with a few days' worth of foraged food from the wilderness, Talia and her crew set out to meet Remian on the way.

Chapter end

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