My planet is infested with Goblins

Chapter 130: The Invasion Assessment

Chapter 130: The Invasion Assessment

The students returned to the main hall the following morning with far less noise than they had brought into it the day before.

The announcement of the monthly assessment had changed the mood throughout the academy, and the casual conversations about planetary growth had been replaced by quiet speculation over what kind of pressure the instructors intended to place on their civilizations.

Noah took his usual seat and looked around while the remaining students entered. Small groups had formed between the rows, with some expecting another battle simulation and others arguing that the academy would probably pair students against one another.

None of them possessed enough information to be certain, which only encouraged increasingly confident guesses.

Cassian Valeborne was among the louder voices. "If they gave us thirty days to develop, they aren’t going to test us with another written exercise. Whatever comes next is going to involve our actual civilizations."

Several students around him agreed, although nobody could decide whether that meant defending their planets or invading someone else’s.

Mira entered shortly afterward and chose a seat several rows ahead of Noah. Unlike many of the students around her, she showed little interest in guessing what the academy planned.

The conversations faded when the senior instructor from the previous day’s assembly stepped onto the platform. Behind him, the enormous projection wall brightened until a representation of a newly awakened planet appeared above the stage.

"You have had your thirty days of development," the instructor began.

"Now the academy needs to determine what those thirty years actually produced. Population, faith, cities, resources, and technology are useful indicators, but numbers viewed in isolation tell us very little about whether a civilization can survive when something actively attempts to destroy it."

The planetary image rotated slowly behind him. Several points of red light appeared above its surface before descending toward the world like falling stars.

"For this month’s assessment, every participating planet will be invaded by forces provided and controlled by the academy. You will not be attacking another student’s world, and another student will not directly attack yours. Every one of you will face an independent invasion conducted according to the difficulty you personally select."

The hall became noticeably quieter. Noah leaned forward slightly as the projection changed, showing a column of soldiers emerging from a red portal onto an open plain.

"The objective is straightforward," the instructor continued.

"Your civilization must survive successive invasion rounds. Destroy or otherwise neutralize the invading force assigned to a round, and that round is considered completed. The academy then advances you to the next one."

Several hands rose immediately, but the instructor motioned for them to remain down. "Most of your questions will be answered before I finish. Listen first, then decide what is still unclear."

The projection displayed a fortified city surrounded by roads, farms, villages, and smaller settlements. Enemy markers began advancing toward each of them rather than concentrating only on the walls.

"This is a defensive assessment because defense must be the priority for all planetarygods.

Your armies may be excellent at marching into foreign territory, but that means very little if your civilization collapses the moment invaders broke through your lines and wreck havoc in your settlements."

Noah immediately understood the distinction. Rakhar had spent years deciding what to strike inside Caldris, while the coming assessment would force the goblins to protect whatever the academy decided to threaten.

The instructor continued, "The invading forces are not uncontrolled beasts dropped randomly onto your planets. They are selected by the academy and organized specifically for the assessment. Their numbers, species, equipment, command quality, magical capability, siege capacity, and tactical composition may change between rounds."

A few students exchanged looks at that. Anyone hoping to prepare one perfect defense against a single enemy type had just lost that advantage.

"You will not receive complete information about the invading force before a round begins," the instructor said. "Scouting, identification, adaptation, and battlefield decision-making are part of the test. If your civilization encounters something unfamiliar, then it will need to determine what that unfamiliar thing can do while fighting it."

The image behind him disappeared and was replaced by five large symbols arranged vertically. Each symbol carried a simple designation ranging from Difficulty One to Difficulty Five.

"This is where your first decision begins. The academy will not choose your difficulty for you. Each planetary god will select the level of invasion their civilization will face before the assessment starts."

A murmur moved through the hall as the five levels expanded with brief descriptions. Difficulty One was intended for civilizations with limited military development, while Difficulty Two represented the expected standard for the average student. Difficulty Three assumed a substantially developed civilization, Difficulty Four was intended for those confident in advanced military and institutional preparation, and Difficulty Five represented the highest challenge available during the current assessment.

Cassian’s expression immediately sharpened with interest. Several students around him began whispering about which level they intended to choose before the instructor had even explained what the differences meant.

"Higher difficulty does not merely mean more enemies," the instructor warned. "It can mean stronger soldiers, better commanders, more sophisticated equipment, more dangerous unit combinations, improved coordination, and greater pressure on the weaknesses of your civilization."

The five symbols changed again, this time displaying point values beside them. Difficulty One awarded ten points for every completed round, Difficulty Two awarded twenty, Difficulty Three awarded forty, Difficulty Four awarded seventy, and Difficulty Five awarded one hundred.

The hall erupted into conversation before the instructor could continue. Students immediately began calculating how many rounds at a lower level would equal fewer rounds at a higher one, while others stared at the highest difficulty as though the number beside it had become a challenge directed personally at them.

The instructor allowed the noise for several seconds before raising his voice. "The calculation is intentionally simple. Your final score is determined primarily by the difficulty you selected and the number of rounds you successfully completed. A round you surrender during does not count."

A comparison appeared on the projection. One hypothetical student survived eight rounds at Difficulty Two for one hundred sixty points, while another completed four rounds at Difficulty Four for two hundred eighty.

"You are not being rewarded simply for lasting a long time against weak opposition," the instructor said.

"Neither are you being rewarded merely for choosing the highest difficulty and being destroyed immediately. The assessment measures both your civilization’s strength and your ability to judge that strength accurately."

Noah looked at the numbers without making any decision yet. Difficulty Five offered an enormous scoring advantage if the goblins could survive several rounds, but the academy would not design the highest level for students who expected an easy victory.

The instructor shifted to the next rule. "Each completed round increases the pressure. Do not assume that choosing Difficulty Three means every invasion will remain at the same strength as the first."

The projection displayed a sequence of rounds. The first showed one army entering through a single portal, while later images added larger formations, siege units, cavalry, magical creatures, and additional commanders.

"The exact progression differs by difficulty, but later rounds are designed to push you beyond whatever worked earlier. An army that defeats the first invasion through one tactic may discover that the next enemy has been constructed specifically to make that tactic less effective."

A student near the front finally raised a hand after receiving permission. "How much time do our civilizations get between rounds?"

"There will be a recovery interval," the instructor answered. "Your forces may reposition, treat wounded soldiers, repair what can realistically be repaired, evacuate civilians, reorganize defenses, and prepare for the next invasion. You will not receive magical restoration of everything you lost."

That answer drew a more uneasy response than the point system. The instructor reinforced it by displaying the same city after several rounds, with damaged walls, burned farmland, and depleted military formations.

"Dead soldiers remain dead. Destroyed infrastructure remains damaged until your civilization repairs it through its own means. Lost equipment does not reappear because a round ended. The assessment is cumulative, and surviving later rounds while carrying the damage of earlier ones is part of the challenge."

Noah’s thoughts went immediately to population depth and industrial capacity. The goblins could replace soldiers faster than many species, but replacing trained veterans, siege equipment, officers, roads, ships, or fortified cities was an entirely different problem.

The projection changed once more. A single invasion portal appeared on one continent, followed several rounds later by additional portals opening elsewhere on the same planet.

"Do not concentrate your entire civilization around one expected entry point," the instructor said. "The academy is not required to use the same invasion location in every round. Later stages may involve multiple invasion points, and those locations can appear far from one another."

This time Noah’s attention sharpened immediately. His world contained four major empires spread across separate continents, and the assessment could force them to defend several regions at the same time. What had been an advantage in population and geographic depth could become a command problem if the portals opened widely enough.

A student farther back asked the question Noah expected next. "What are we allowed to do personally?"

The instructor nodded toward him. "You remain planetary gods, so ordinary divine functions allowed under academy rules remain available. You may communicate through established religious channels, issue commandments, guide your followers, and use permitted forms of indirect influence."

His expression hardened slightly before he continued. "You may not personally erase the invading armies through direct divine force. This assessment measures the civilization you developed, not your ability to destroy mortals from above."

Several students visibly relaxed while others looked disappointed. Noah found the limitation reasonable, especially after Garran’s explanation of how different a war became once unrestricted gods entered it.

"You should also understand that surrender is permitted," the instructor said. "At any point during an active round, you may end your assessment. The academy will terminate the invasion once surrender is formally recognized."

The word produced an immediate reaction. A few students whispered that they had no intention of surrendering at all, while others looked more interested in the rule than they wanted to show.

"Surrender is not automatically failure," the instructor continued. "Knowing when further resistance will destroy more than it can gain is part of command. If the next round is clearly beyond your civilization’s remaining strength, preserving what you built may be the correct decision."

The projection showed a surviving city beside a score total, then another version of the same city reduced to ruins after an additional round. The message required little explanation.

"If you refuse to surrender, the academy will not protect your civilization from the ordinary consequences of the invasion while the round remains active. Armies can be destroyed, settlements can fall, and civilians can die. We will intervene if assessment controls fail, but we will not rescue you merely because you regret choosing another round."

The hall became much quieter after that. The high point values no longer looked quite as attractive when attached to cities that would not magically rebuild themselves once the ranking was posted.

The instructor let that silence remain before introducing the final element. "Your scores will be ranked publicly after the assessment. Everyone will know how many points you earned and where you stand among your class."

That announcement immediately restored some of the competitive tension. Cassian sat straighter, while several students exchanged glances with people they had been boasting to only the previous day.

"The ranking also has practical consequences," the instructor added. "The academy will grant privileges to the highest-performing students."

Questions erupted almost immediately.

"What privileges?"

"Resources?"

"Faith Points?"

"Access to special facilities?"

The instructor raised a hand and waited until the voices died away. "Those details will not be announced before the assessment."

The response produced louder complaints than any previous rule. Several students argued that they needed to know what they were risking their civilizations for, while others immediately assumed the secrecy meant the rewards had to be valuable.

"The academy knows exactly what it is doing," the instructor said once the room settled. "If we tell you the precise rewards, some of you will stop evaluating your civilizations and begin evaluating the market value of the prize. That is not the decision we are testing."

He pointed toward the five difficulty symbols. "You know that higher performance creates access to greater academy privileges. That is sufficient. Your task is to judge how much pressure your civilization can reasonably endure without knowing whether the next reward is worth sacrificing another ten thousand soldiers for."

Cassian gave a quiet laugh from his row. "If they’re hiding it, it probably isn’t something small." A few students near him murmured agreement, but Mira remained silent and continued studying the difficulty levels.

Noah understood both reactions. An unknown reward could be extraordinary, yet its value did not change the cost of a destroyed civilization. The academy was forcing them to separate ambition from judgment.

"You will have a short preparation period before difficulty selection closes," the instructor continued. "Review your planet. Examine your military readiness, geography, reserves, infrastructure, and whatever vulnerabilities you have discovered during the last thirty years."

The five choices remained suspended above the stage. "Once the assessment begins, you may not lower your selected difficulty. Your only way out is surrender, so choose according to what your civilization can actually handle rather than what you hope your classmates will think of you."

Noah studied Difficulty Five again while the hall filled with quieter calculations. His goblins possessed numbers, veteran commanders, four empires, established armies, fortifications, fleets, and the experience of conquering Caldris, yet the academy could send enemies Rakhar had never encountered.

That uncertainty made the choice interesting.

When the instructor dismissed the assembly, students left more slowly than they had entered. Conversations followed them into the corridors, but almost every discussion revolved around the same two questions: how high a difficulty they dared to choose and how many rounds they believed their civilizations could survive.

Noah walked among them without joining the speculation. The academy had withheld the prizes, the enemy composition, and the progression of later rounds, leaving only the rules and the five difficulty levels as reliable information.

For most students, the assessment would reveal whether thirty planetary years had prepared their civilizations to survive an invasion.

For Noah, it would also answer a question Caldris never could: how much pressure would it actually take before the goblins reached their limit?