Chapter 187: How the Board is Set

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Living Room. Local Time: 1525 Hours.

Emma

The scene was set; the living room converted into a veritable stage for the lupinor prince.

Sofas, armchairs, ottomans, and just about every upholstered sitting implement under the sun had been moved off to the side, much to the chagrin of the couch-potato vunerian.

Though there wasn’t much the executive kobold could do here but complain, seeing as this was Thalmin’s turn under the spotlights.

And complain he did… not only at the momentary loss of his armchair throne, but the content of a presentation he’d yet to have witnessed.

Apparently, he needed to play the ‘conscientious moderator’ of this whole exchange, if only to ensure that Thalmin did not ‘inappropriately represent’ or ‘halfheartedly undersell’ the ‘iron fist that lay beneath the velvet glove.’

Suffice it to say, the vunerian had a lot of reservations going into this.

Which made Thalmin’s preamble all the more important.

“What I am about to show you, Emma, is an insight into contemporary warfare from an adjacency’s perspective.” He began, his hands still very much fiddling with the beartrap-on-a-book device that was the sight-seer. “What this won’t be is a comprehensive review of the inner workings of the Nexian battle order, grand strategy, or overarching military capabilities for that matter. But it will provide you with a fundamental stepping stone into such future ventures.” He excitedly proclaimed, raising both of his hands up high in an uncharacteristically theatrical flair often reserved for Ilunor. “Without further ado… let us begin.”

The familiar effects of the sight-seer quickly took hold, as every exposed surface from marble flooring to upholstered furniture started to pulse, ripple… then melt; their textures remolded and reshaped like putty.

The ceilings above us were resorbed into blue skies. Whilst the floors beneath us gave way to rolling hills and sweeping plains. The walls were the last to go, giving us an unparalleled view of untamed natural vistas to complete the magical hologram. It painted a sight not too dissimilar to an RTS-style bird’s-eye ‘view’ of a bogstandard rural map, complete with forests scattered about between quaint medieval towns.

“To understand contemporary warfare — or as you say, ‘magic warfare’ — we must first cover a topic that every squire and princeling is taught in equal measures.” Thalmin quickly cleared his throat as he ‘spawned in’ an entire division’s worth of lupinors. Accompanying them just beneath our sightline were a smaller handful of levitating mages. “War, as we have known it since the dawn of time, has always been a tale of two dominions. The war in the heavens…” Thalmin paused, gesturing at the mages. “... and the war below.” He gestured just as quickly at the forces gathered on the ground. “What follows is a series of victory and loss conditions summed in a model known as the Cruel Axioms.” Thalmin, in an act I hadn’t expected or anticipated, brought up something far more at home in military theory classes, sending a shiver up my spine just out of memory alone — the dreaded defense slideshows.

However, his ‘slide’ was much simpler than what I’d feared. It thankfully consisted of a simple 2x2 table. “If a mage and their armies win, then that is a total victory. If a mage wins but their armies lose, that is a decisive victory. One whose successes are contingent on the context of that specific battle. Conversely, if one were to lose the war in the heavens, but ‘win’ the wars below… they will, in almost every conceivable scenario, suffer defeat. The extent and range of which are contingent on the whims of those victorious mages. The last condition needs no explanation as the loss of both mage and army leads to an outcome quite self-evident.” Thalmin explained concisely in a way that had effectively cleared up the accumulated ambiguity of this inherently magical approach to war. A subject which up to this point had been filtered almost entirely through the lens of the… not-so-unbiased perspectives of both nobles and their ideologues.

All of which eventually begged a question that I’d immediately come to my own conclusions on, but one that would be interesting enough to broach to Thalmin.

“That’s an awfully cruel calculus at play here, Thalmin.” I began.

“Cruel, yes, but an undeniable aspect of reality all the same. Hence its moniker.” The prince nodded.

“I imagine many may even wonder why one would bother with armies at all if mages are the ultimate deciding factor in the outcome of a battle.” I paused, noticing a certain grin forming at the edges of Ilunor’s snout. “Though in that same vein, I imagine that such a question is very much the realm of the uninformed and foolish.”

Thalmin perked up nodding and silently encouraging me to continue.

“That’s where the delineation between total and decisive victories is made, aren’t they? Because while a mage can wipe out armies on a whim, that doesn’t mean you’ll succeed in your war objectives. If the aim is to occupy and capture a town, city, or castle, you need fresh bodies to do the gruntwork. So unless the aim is total annihilation, meaning a mage can just go ham on leveling everything back to the Stone Age, you’ll need those boots on the ground to act as instruments for granular control, expanded force presence, and the delegation of both administrative and enforcement aims on a local level.”

Thalmin, in a look of knowing appreciation, nodded.

“I see your mind is far more open than that of the squire and the princeling. The former typically falls into despair not long after grappling with this reality, whilst the latter… well… they more often than not rise into ego-driven highs and oftentimes never come back down from it.” The lupinor paused, giving Ilunor a side eye as if to subtly cast shade at him. “With that being said, you’ve caught it by the throat, Emma. What you describe is what we refer to as the Principles of War. Because despite possessing the capacity for total destruction, to pursue such goals in war is a self-defeating prospect. It stands in stark contrast to the unwritten oaths of royalty and nobility — the guardianship and stewardship of one’s culture, history, legacy, and by extension, civilization. That vision, that purpose, is nothing if not without our people. This is why the war below is necessary, if only to extend our reach.”

“And does everyone share in this belief, Thalmin?” I shot back almost reflexively, much to my own surprise in fact.

Thalmin’s features shifted at that abrupt line of question, prompting his eyes to narrow and a pensive look to dawn upon his face.

“So much as maintaining civilization is concerned, yes.” He stated tentatively. “But as far as the respect of those below goes? As much as it pains me to say, the respect that is owed to them is often lost on highborns too lost in the clouds that mark their battlefields.”

A snarl was quick to form around the lupinor’s snout, but that just as quickly faded as he moved onto the next topic at hand.

“I assume there are no more questions on the topics we’ve covered?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Because now that we’ve delineated the two dominions of battle, we can focus on expounding on both, starting with the war below. I’ll begin by describing precisely who makes up the ranks of the armies below, their organizational structure, their weapons, their tactics, and perhaps some features you may not have in that manaless world of yours, Emma.” Thalmin winked as he swooshed his hands around, prompting the scene in front of us to zoom onto one of the most stereotypical medieval fantasy footsoldiers I’ve ever seen.

The man didn’t even have basic metal armor, instead eschewing it for a sort of leather-ish armor.

Anachronisms notwithstanding, I ignored how ‘historically inaccurate’ this was, as I mentally silenced the nitpicking woes of many a history buff back home.

“We start with the commoners.” Thalmin declared firmly as he gestured towards the stone-faced lupinor. “Where there’s a role to be filled, you will find a commoner inhabiting it, no matter how menial, and no matter how humbling. Indeed, they account for the main bulk of our armies by sheer numbers alone.” He continued before shifting gears just as quickly by flicking that poor footsoldier to oblivion, replacing him instead with what looked to be a literal knight in shining armor.

“Next and perhaps most contentious of all, we have the chosen ones. Now, as you already know, these men, women, and what-have-you are commoners born with a natural — albeit limited — capacity for magic. As you can imagine, this grants them a great degree of promise within the ranks of our forces, but not in the way you might expect. Because instead of appealing to their frankly paltry magical abilities, many instead choose to harness the unseen potential behind their limited command of magic — their manafields.”

Thalmin paused, gesturing towards the shiny, intricately carved wooden hilt of the knight’s sword. “Contrary to what many may believe, not all enchanted items are made equal. The more complex and capable the enchantment, the more… challenging it is for someone to properly utilize it. You will reach a certain point where the typical commoner is incapable of employing an enchantment to its fullest potential, or worse, injure themselves in attempting to do so. This is where gifted commoners truly shine. For despite their own limitations in casting magic, it’s their manafields that allow them a greater degree of command and control over all sorts of enchantments. That, amidst a greater affinity to magical beasts and whatnot, makes them a force multiplier, a lynchpin of many an army.” He snickered sharply, before shaking his head. “But I digress. I do not wish to sound like the typical [WORKING LANGUAGE DATABASE: Armchair General]. Because despite their undeniable usefulness and their genuine boon to the cause, there exist other force multipliers that — whilst rare and expensive to maintain — are themselves equivalent to chosen ones when available.”

The lupinor knight in front of us was quickly punted into oblivion, a fact that Thalmin seemed to find thoroughly amusing, as indicated by the grin that had made itself at home on his snout.

What appeared next in the knight’s stead, however, prompted my gaze to narrow as things actually started to take a turn for the interesting this time around.

Commoner footsoldiers were one thing.

Chosen One knights were also to be expected.

But a stone lupinor? It—

“Gargoyles.” Thalmin proclaimed. “Or as some might inaccurately call them, golems. These enchanted beings of stone and mana-imbued filigree are seen by many as the ultimate expression of adjacent artificing on the battlefield. Indeed, discounting the siege weapons and aethraships synonymous with Nexian… power—” Thalmin grumbled at that, preemptively side-eyeing Ilunor in the process. “—these beasts of stone, precious metals, and gems are often the true powerhouses of the war below.”

Thalmin once more gestured towards the stone lupinor, this time stepping off to the side to really grant us a closer look.

Upon closer inspection… it was clear it wasn’t just stone. Indeed, there seemed to be this almost opalescent sheen across its entire surface, gleaming and glistening in a translucent milky hue, ‘encasing’ the complex and meticulously carved intricate patterns beneath; patterns inlaid with glowing lines of gold, silver, and a whole host of other precious alloys.

“Possessing the strength of several parties’ worth of manpower, and lacking the capacity to feel pain, fear, or anything really, these utterly loyal and unwavering beasts are impressive in their tactical utility. Indeed, some might even find them to be more loyal than their own men given their unquestioning obedience to orders… but I’d be hesitant to endorse such a sentiment, given how most who would echo such notions are themselves not the sort to be respected amidst their men in the first place.” Thalmin added a somewhat specific personal anecdote there before shrugging and moving on.

“That about covers the who of the matter.” He surmised with a smile. “Though, there are a few special honorary mentions that straddle the line between weapon, mount, or an actual member of one’s forces. You’ll see why in just…” The prince paused cryptically as that glowing stone lupinor was likewise… punted out of existence, now replaced by a fierce-looking four-legged creature.

“... a moment.” He beamed, once again amused by his holographic show transitions. “What you see before you is a beast of war, or ‘battle beast,’ by those more colloquially inclined.”

This… ‘beast’ stood at about a good five or so feet tall and was about double that in length. Its fur was well kept; indeed, it even sported a leather harness complete with what I assumed to be the unit’s seal stamped on a bronze plate at the tip of its collar. It took me a moment to really digest what I was looking at, but after a quick 360 look at the creature, I finally figured it out.

It was an oversized, mutated cross between a wolverine and a tasmanian devil.

“In lieu of gargoyles and golems, one may instead invest in maintaining a healthy bestiarium, because unlike the mana-intensive act of artificing and the maintenance associated with such ventures, the art of animal husbandry requires little in upfront or continued expenditure, in either coin or mana. Indeed, such beasts can be crucial elements on the frontlines, opening the way for assaults, and even supporting a sustained one at that. The only reason why its classification as an actual member of one’s ranks is disputed is simply due to its lack of sapience and its perceived similarity to beasts of burden and battle mounts. The main difference here is that beasts of war are not a tool of burden, nor are they acting under direct supervision by a rider as in the case with a mount. Moreover, because gargoyles are themselves not sapient, this leaves the matter of warbeast classification entirely open to interpretation. I, for one, see them as an active element of my army’s composition, albeit more as secondary to my actual thinking, reasoning men, of course. But to simply classify the beasts as nonliving weapons? That’s taking it a step too far.”

Thalmin was on a roll at this point, his confidence brimming as his excitement was palpable in each and every one of his words.

Indeed, this was about as close to a free flow of earnest expository dialogue I’ve heard from him in one of these presentations, with everything else up to this point being far more reserved in nature.

I had nothing to say at this point, of course, partially because I knew what it was like to be in the zone of the ‘orator,’ as Ilunor would call it. However, part of me just wanted to listen, if only to take in and digest what I was hearing.

The commoner and chosen ones had been a good confirmation of my suspicions. However, it was the addition of golems and warbeasts that got me really interested.

How were golems created? Mages, right? If so, who actually controls them on the ground? How much autonomy did they have? Did they actually have some basic ‘programming’ behind them?

Moreover, the existence of what was effectively a scalable, disposable, entirely autonomous fighting force put me in mind of the S-AMCPs.

Because while Thalmin might be presenting them in an adjacent light — rare, expensive, but otherwise effective tools of war — this meant that at the Nexus’ scale… we might be talking about an actually reasonable force to be reckoned with.

Though I doubt they’d be able to scale it to the scale of the Saturnian robo-fabs… I thought cockily to myself, recalling a particular scene from that one documentary which still stuck with me to this very day; the images of a thousand or so molds being filled, compressed, and then assembled all in the span of a day never truly left me.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

And that was just the smallest ‘complete’ production module in the factory.

A single factory, in this case, contained about 50-100 modules.

And that was just a standard fab, discounting the mega fabs…

Regardless, Thalmin would be quick to move the conversation forward, now preparing to move the subject along in a sequential, logical order.

Or so I thought.

“I know what you’re thinking, Emma. I understand what a fellow martial mind may want for the conclusion to such a list.” Thalmin continued with an earnest smile. “You wish to know the typical makeup of an adjacency’s forces now that you’ve been familiarized with all of its elements, yes?”

“Yeah! But, erm, perhaps that should wait?” I offered, cocking my head in confusion.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“You haven’t gotten to the various combat functions for us to be able to organize them—” I paused before I got hit with a bit of functional systemic incongruency of my own. “Right, you probably have two sets of force composition panels, don’t you? One for the actual… personnel composition, given how you have various types of personnel, and another for their actual combat functions.”

“Indeed, indeed, Emma!” Thalmin responded with a haughty laugh. “Caught yourself there in one of your… reality incoherence moments, ay?”

“A bit, yeah. But it’ll soon be your turn after this.” I teased.

“Oh, we’ll see…” Thalmin shot back with a snicker before deftly moving on to the point at hand, summoning back the leather-clad footsoldier from the beginning of this whole force breakdown. “But yes, ‘personnel composition,’ as it were, is a bit of a… tricky subject. This is because each realm has its own unique approach to what are functionally similar aims, with factors such as stability, security, population count, resources, funds, and availability of mana, all affecting how it is a realm chooses to compose its forces. I can only speak for Havenbrock when I say that about seven in ten men are commoners, two in ten are chosen ones, and one in ten are a combination of beasts of war and gargoyles. Though that number is sometimes closer to two in ten depending on the depletion of our commoner and chosen-one pools of manpower.” The prince concluded before reaching to cradle his snout. “As you might imagine, most realms would attempt to maximize the number of both gargoyles and chosen ones, as both are seen as the more… prestigious elements of any standing force. Indeed, there exists a handful of particularly eccentric regimes choosing to instead staff their forces either at a one-to-one ratio of commoners to chosen ones, or more ambitiously, aiming for an army staffed exclusively by chosen ones.”

“And that’s how you know you’re looking at a realm — or more accurately a royal arms-bearer — who's desperately trying to compensate for something, your grace!” The lupinor hologram spoke.

…

This prompted me, Thacea, and even Ilunor to blink in confusion, turning towards Thalmin with a questioning gaze.

However, instead of immediately answering, he responded to us with an open-grin look of excitement, as if waiting for us to react in a particular way.

“Eyyy? Eyyyyy?” Thalmin egged us on, but found only the chirping of proverbial crickets as his only audience. “You know, because of the whole joke about how many chosen ones it would take to make up for…”

Not a single one of us even blinked at the ongoing explanation. Thalmin’s humor meter quickly dwindled.

“Eh, never mind, worth a shot! Lupinor humor, I suppose. Anyways—”

“Did… you program that in just for the bit, Thalmi—” I attempted to chime in, only to be cut off by Thalmin.

“Let’s break down some of the commonly found vocations amidst the commoner ranks, shall we?” He gestured towards the spear-wielding lupinor. Without much else I could say, I sighed and looked to the hologram. “To quote a certain adage from my father’s lectures on the matter: it would be easier to list the roles and responsibilities which arenotundertaken by the ranks of the commoners, than it is to mention all of them. This is because no matter how readily available the number of chosen ones are within one’s realm, there must always be those ready to take on tasks which are — and you must excuse my bluntness here, Emma — ‘beneath’ their potential.”

“I get it, Thalmin.” I quickly butted in, if only to reassure the lupinor. “Chosen ones are few and far between, and when you have to choose between sending them off to the mess crew or having them fill the ranks of say… cavalry or frontline assault groups or whatever, you’d want to put them in a role that maximizes their effectiveness.”

“Yes.” Thalmin nodded. “That’s precisely it. Moreover, this ties in neatly to a matter we’ll be touching upon concurrently — weaponry.”

The hologram pushed its spear forwards in one swift motion, clearly pre-programmed to do so at Thalmin’s commands.

“Let’s start with the most basic of forces, including their equipment manifest…” He continued, clearing his throat as he did so. “The auxiliaries. Commoners who, either due to demand or a… lack of fief or provincial funding, lack much in the way of any enchanted implements. Neither armor—” He pointed at the lupinor’s paltry attire, which amounted to a pair of thick padded cotton and leather pants, a patchwork tunic, and a leather chestplate to complete the dilapidated look. “—or weapons—” He then moved to the spear. While… sufficient, it was probably laughable in a real magic fight. “—or any other personal effects.” He pointed at the man’s belt… having only leather pouches filled with random herbs and cutting implements. “I consider these men to be braver than most, as they charge headfirst into battle knowing their fate.” Thalmin spoke solemnly before briefly shrugging. “That is, when push comes to shove, of course.” He then quickly shifted to a smile. “Because auxiliaries are almost always confined to guard, garrison, and patrol duty, acting almost as the juniors to the better-armed gendarmerie. With all that being said, they’re as close to straddling the line between standing forces and levied militiamen, making up a good bulk of our forces simply due to their… meager maintenance and per diems, but I digress.”

Thalmin sighed before snapping his fingers, causing the lupinor in front of us to momentarily lose his attire only to have it replaced by far more premium gear.

In doing so, the lupinor in question began looking over his new equipment, ‘ooohing’ and ‘aahing’ as he did so, reminding me of the character customization menus on ParaSimulacra VII.

The new armor and equipment on display consisted of a thick padded gambeson, some decent pants with metal armor, as well as a glaive, elbow pads, and even a helmet this time around.

“This is what you’d typically see in a battle formation. Meet the armsman. A fully equipped professional warrior armed sparingly with enchanted equipment. But what they lack in equipment compared to other adjacencies, they more than make up for in their training—”

Thalmin paused as the lupinor soldier in front of us began cycling through a bunch of idle animations — running, rucking, lifting, and even performing push-ups.

“—drilling—”

The lupinor leaped up, using his spear to jab, parry, and then eventually stab the practice dummies that had materialized in front of him.

“—and of course, group discipline.”

Several identical lupinors materialized beside him, as they began running through hand signals for the most part.

“They serve as the main bulk of our frontline infantry, with those who have served with distinction or who demonstrate particularly meritorious acts being selected for further specialization. Because some, by virtue of their former profession, unique talents, or a combination of all of that and more, become better suited for other roles. Roles such as…” Thalmin paused as he gestured once again to the lupinor, who was once more redressed in new attire.

This time, his equipment was far more sparing, consisting of a light, sleeveless, barely-buttoned-in-the-middle tunic, the return of those leather pants, and the introduction of chain mail worn on top of said tunic.

This change in armor was quickly explained away by the introduction of a quiver along with a bow and arrow.

“... archery.” Thalmin beamed yet again. “With enchanted bows, of course. Now, we won’t get into the specifics behind the nature of enchanted bows and arrows, or whether the enchantment of bows is more cost-effective than enchanting arrows to be fired by an unenchanted bow, or whether enchanting both are more effective in the long-run…” Thalmin rambled. “... all I’ll say is this — archers are yet another lynchpin in a battle. Therefore, when such talent is seen or noted, they are often immediately nurtured and fostered.”

The prince took a moment to clear his throat, pausing the presentation as he did so. “We can continue into the specifics, listing off the derivatives of such vocations, but we’d be scattered and without focus if we did not make an effort to start categorizing them first. Their ‘combat function’ as you so put it.” He once again gestured to the archer.

“Both types of men that you’ve seen thus far are what we would define under our ‘martial philosophy’ as [Translation… 98.7% Accuracy… Anti-Infantry] forces. Change the bow and swap out the arrows for a more powerful missile, and you’d easily have an [Working Language Database: Anti-Armored] archer on your hands. Same goes for the armsman prior. Now—”

I raised my hand, poised to ask a somewhat unrelated question.

“Yes, Emma?” Thalmin perked up.

“I know this is a bit of a tangent, but I wanted to address this before we dig deeper into your force composition… what’s the deal with leather armor?”

“What do you—”

“Where I come from, it isn’t really a thing per se. Not historically that is. So I was wondering—”

“Ah!” Thalmin interjected, snickering as he did so. “Yes, yes… you hail from a… very urban and developed world, one so thoroughly domesticated. As such, I doubt you’d have the same sort of formidable beasts as our realm does.” He continued ominously. “You see, there are certain beasts that we not only hunt, but have domesticated for regular consumption. These beasts are known for their formidably tough hides, yet are renowned for their remarkably forgiving properties when fashioned into garments. Provided, of course, you harvest and process it quickly enough. So! To simply put, whilst not necessarily on par with gambeson, the difference in protection oftentimes does not warrant the difference in coin to make up for it.” Thalmin paused, grinning darkly now. “The worst enemy for us martial folk, aye? Accounting and funding. Though I don’t suppose you’re quite limited by such trifles given your excesses of gold, no?” He eventually managed to turn it around, attempting to bring levity into the situation with a chuckle before moving back into the thick of things.

“Right then! Where were we?” Thalmin grinned with a jolly wide smile, turning to the lupinor archer. “Ah, yes, the division of forces, and the weapons manifest. Right then! When it comes to both armsmen and archers, their enchanted weapons can only go so far. Their commoner heritage limits what sorts of enchantments they can effectively wield, limiting them to improvements in the inherent properties of a weapon — sharpness, lightness, swiftness, and the like — rather than their improved function. Things, however, become much more interesting for chosen ones, as that is when matters of function can be factored.”

“Such as the spear that’s capable of splitting into many smaller shards of metal?” I offered.

“Yes.” Thalmin nodded. “Exactly like that. And that’s precisely why chosen ones are so vital in a standing force. They allow you to expand your tactical scope by wielding weapons with far more capabilities than what the commoner can handle.”

With a deep breath and yet another snap of his fingers, the archer in front of us was once more redressed, this time in gear more resembling a knight, complete with plate armor, a helmet, and a halberd.

“Anti-cavalry, or Horseguards as we like to call them.” Thalmin nodded. “Again, stemming from the same armsmen but trained and uplifted into a different, specialized regiment.”

The mercenary prince snapped his fingers yet again, causing the lupinor in front of us to dress up once more, this time wearing gear even heavier than the plate-armored horseguard prior.

“Anti-gargoyle, or as the regiment is known, Stonebreakers. Specialized forces tasked with the destruction of golems, armed with specially enchanted weapons designed and made specifically for that purpose. Indeed, you’d be hard-pressed to use this against a typical enchanted set of plate armor, as the enchantments are instead quite specific against disrupting the outer protective ‘shell’ of the gargoyles.”

Another snap.

And yet again, the poor lupinor hologram was forced through another change. His gear remained more or less the same as that knight-like outfit prior, save for the addition of a large lance.

This time, however, he brought a friend, one whom he sat atop of.

“The Cavalry, or Mounted Arms if one is being pedantic.” Thalmin chuckled yet again to himself, gesturing to the lupinor knight sitting atop his horse. “Fast, maneuverable, heavily armed forces that shape the very flow of a battle. There are, of course, variants. From light, to medium, to heavy, and even mounted archers.”

The lupinor in front of us yet again went through the changes Thalmin had listed, eschewing his armor in one, upgrading to something halfway to a knight in the next before returning to his knightly attire, and then changing yet again to something resembling that archer from before, only mounted this time around.

“Mounted arms also include those who are mounted atop more… exotic beasts.” Thalmin snapped his fingers, causing the horse to shift into a more… tame-looking warbeast from before. “But I probably need not dwell on this matter, for we have one more, far less utilized force to discuss.”

Thalmin snapped his fingers, this time replacing the hologram lupinor’s attire with something quite… basic. Just a gambeson and some chainmail, though this time, he was without a weapon save for a sword as his sidearm.

Instead, he brought in a friend, a few of them in fact, as about five or so lupinors seemed to be working on a crew-served weapon.

“Anti-Air. Sky-spearers, Wing-breakers, we have quite a few names for them… but that’s only because they’re often quite… underutilized. In Havenbrock specifically, we often lack much in the way of mounted aerial forces. Drakes and the like are exceedingly lacking, which are what such ground forces would be dedicated to defending against. Therefore, the wing breakers account for the smallest proportion of our forces, though we still keep a modest amount just in case.”

I narrowed my eyes, nodding, and then pointing at the giant ballista that had now fully ‘loaded in.’

“So, I’m assuming that bolt is enchanted for various… ‘charges,’ as it were?”

“Yes.” Thalmin nodded. “We have bolts that are capable of exploding in mid-air, sending sharp shrapnel towards unsuspecting flyers.”

Ilunor winced at that, grimacing as Thalmin described the concept with an excitable vigor.

Thalmin, however, continued unabated.

“We also have bolts that can seek out living targets up to a certain range, bolts that can set fire to a target, bolts that can shoot lightning close to a target, and bolts that can transform into nets to entangle a target.”

“Though, it must be said that such bolts are quick to be dispatched by any drake rider worth their title.” Ilunor rebutted, if only out of personal pride.

And in a rare moment of surprisingly earnest admission… Thalmin agreed.

“Ilunor’s right.” Thalmin nodded. “Such bolts are highly temperamental, and on top of that, they often fail to reach the distances required by their enchantments. A single ballista is, after all, a slow, predictable, lumbering target capable of being sighted far in advance by any seasoned drake rider.”

Ilunor grinned cockily at Thalmin’s submission.

But that wasn’t the end of it.

“However…” Thalmin continued. “This is why one uses more than a single ballista, instead, employing tens, if not even a hundred of them, depending on the battle.”

The vunerian’s eyes shot daggers back at the mercenary prince as he barked back a cold, derisive statement. “That is, if one can afford as much.” He spoke snidely.

To which Thalmin, ever the pragmatist in this presentation, merely nodded in response. “Indeed.”

The existence of the ballista, however, prompted me to reassess other aspects of Thalmin’s forces, as I gestured towards the implement, eyes wide in curiosity.

“So… crew-served enchanted weapons exist.” I spoke eagerly.

“Yes, Emma.” Thalmin responded.

“I should have guessed considering the existence of aethraships.” I shrugged. “Though I must say, the development of such varied warheads does put me in mind of a few of our arms races. The development of air defense capabilities, which prompted aircraft to develop countermeasures of their own, which then spurred on developments to the former, over and over, into a cycle of measure and countermeasure that continues to this very day.” I offered with a snicker of my own.

This prompted Thalmin to narrow his gaze, crossing his arms in the process. “A race of arms indeed… and considering what you have shown me of your kind’s aerial capabilities, it stands to reason that your ability to shoot them down is probably not too far behind either?”

There was a fire that burned in Thalmin’s eyes, as if he was waiting for my divulgence of our anti-air analogues.

“Correct.” I acknowledged. “We’ve had over a thousand years of aerospace history to really perfect the art of shooting down aircraft, after all.”

“Then I would like you to place particular emphasis on that as well, in your presentation. I am curious if such assets are capable of taking down not just drakes… but perhaps aethraships as well?” Thalmin really, really shot his shot right there.

To which I could only slowly nod, much to Ilunor’s indignant glare.

“Slow, lumbering, low-flying, ginormous targets the size of a blimp or zeppelin? Yeah… that’s child’s play. But er, maybe we should save that for my presentation, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.” Ilunor countered. “Now Thalmin, please, please, continue! Let us finally reach more of what magical warfare has to offer!” The executive kobold proclaimed, prompting Thalmin to nod in agreement.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Ilunor. Anything to get my part of the story over with.” Thalmin grinned deviously.