randomguy: It's not just about magic. Now, for Miriel, all fighting arts, and all skills must be learned the hard way. Players are incomparably more powerful than the inhabitants of the New World because they learned their skill in the game and every time they failed to find a treasure, defeat an enemy, or conquer a Dungeon... they reloaded their last save. A Player is actually a cheated character who has never experienced failure because his playthrough is actually the sum of his victories... all his defeats having disappeared when reloading the backups. This explains why Ainz is so strong... During the life of a human, it is impossible for a normal individual to reach level 99. And even an elf would end up dying before accumulating all the items that Ainz has. Without backup, the first failure has every chance of being end game. The same reasoning applies to everything else, really effective potions, powerful magic objects, resurrection... all this is extremely rare in the New World.
Deathtraps Valley
Miriel did not sleep well that night.
The discussion with Altiria had made her angry and she had long remained lying in the dark without finding sleep and then... when finally fatigue had finally made itself felt, Khalid and Antilene had returned to the inn. And the heterochromia girl was in a very bad mood.
The argument lasted a long time. Khalid had to be very patient to calm the Extra Seat of the Black Scripture.
Finally, he had resorted to a method well known to all lovers... reconciliation on the pillow.
There was nothing worse than sleeping alone in an inn room when a young couple was occupying the next room.
When the innkeeper woke her up at dawn, the Summoner had a bad taste in her mouth, and her brain was running slow. She was sleep-deprived and washing in the morning cold with chilled water was particularly challenging. Watanabe Haruko was a 21st-century Japanese teen used to turning a tap to get hot water among other modern commodities. Of course, there were magical devices like water pitchers that heated their contents. But who could afford to buy this kind of gadget apart from the nobility and the rich merchants?
In an inn like this, the water came from the well.
People were washing, kneeling in front of a basin of water, rubbing themselves with a wet washcloth... while shivering. Hygiene was rudimentary because no one had the courage to prolong this torment for a long time.
In the tavern, she joined the other members of the group who were having breakfast. As always, they were divided into three groups of two. Antilene with Khalid, Altiria with Leyen, and Diolaine always sat with her.
Conversations with others were quite limited. Generally, the two elves were not very communicative. As for Antilene, she was so focused on Khalid that the others hardly existed anymore. She didn't talk much anymore to Miriel, much less to Diolaine, and never to the Elves.
In fact, only Khalid Deez went from one group to another.
After Miriel filled her Inventory with enough food for a group of six to go to and from the Sheylayen Bridge (6 days normally... but it was more like two weeks in wartime), they left the inn.
Baron Marcus Aquain Breval was waiting for them at the front door - still under repair- he gave them a brief speech, wishing them good luck and reminding them of the challenges of their mission... while briefly glancing towards Antilene. He probably expected her to explode with anger, like the night before. But the heterochromia girl didn't even seem to listen. With a sullen expression on her face and crossed arms, Antilene seemed to be bored to death.
He was not the only one to be surprised. Diolaine, Altiria, and Leyen also watched Certain Death waiting for her protests... which did not come.
It must be said that they knew nothing of Khalid's talents of persuasion... the 'horizontal' kind.
Irritated, Miriel spoke as soon as the baron was silent.
"Thank you for your kind words, my Lord. We will strive to earn your trust. We will be back as soon as possible to share our success. Goodbye."
And she went at a good pace, without even looking if the others followed her.
Normally, Miriel was the most patient and polite member of their small group... so everyone wondered what was wrong with her.
The Summoner had convinced herself that she was angry with Antilene and Khalid because they had kept her awake... the truth was harder to admit... she was jealous and frustrated. Even in this other world, nothing had changed. She saw others getting into a relationship. And she remained alone.
Crossing the goblin blockade was relatively easy. After the death of their main warlords, the small humanoids retreated to their camps. They hardly left, eating and drinking, indulging in laziness, or arguing among themselves about who will be the new leader.
Leyen Aristeia led the small group. Advancing alongside Miriel, Altiria commented on the actions of his bodyguard explaining that he could give the age of a footstep trace simply by looking at her and that a sharp break in a bank could also be dated. He also counted the number of tracks to know the importance of a patrol.
Guided by the Ranger, the small group had no trouble sneaking between the bands of goblins on the go.
As the OOO interface automatically drew a map of the road traveled, Miriel realized that the detours imposed by Leyen considerably lengthened their route. Three days after leaving Targos, they hadn't even walked 30 kilometers as the crow flies.
On the fourth day of travel, signs of goblin patrols became scarce before disappearing completely
They could return to the road and advance much faster for two days.
"It's horrible! They desecrated this land."
Altiria Siina Verteil hid her mouth with both hands, looking at the valley of the Shulayen with eyes filled with anger and disgust.
She was an elf. Her race had a strong empathy with nature, especially the forest.
From a rocky hill, the small group could see the river undulating lazily between the hills. In one of the curves, there was a big forest. But it was past. There remained only a muddy land trampled by thousands of feet and sown with thousands of stumps. Here and there, teams of lumberjacks were still at work, cutting down the remaining trees, cutting branches that they threw into large fires that made the air stink.
Even at a distance, the workers were well recognizable. They were green-skinned muscular humanoids with a few pig features, like a groin and curved canines.
Orcs.
Less shocked than Altiria, Khalid looked at the scene with a clinical eye, noting more important details for the success of their mission. He pointed to a tree trunk that humans pulled with ropes, rolling it on logs.
"The orcs around these workers are guards. They are prisoners... slaves."
At his side, Leyen nodded, seeming to confirm the warrior's explanation.
More practical, Diolaine scratched her head while reflecting.
"They need a lot of wood... they have to build something of the kind really big..."
Khalid winced.
"Yes, it's intriguing." Then he came back to their true purpose. "How far are we from the bridge?"
The others turned to Miriel. The Summoner sighed. They had quickly ceased to marvel at her strange 'magic' and were now treating her as a driver was treating his GPS. She sighed and enlarged the map window of her Interface.
"I would say five kilometers in a straight line... but you have to go around the valley. We'll never get through thousands of orcs."
"Five kilometers... um..."
Khalid looked at the cut trees pulled by the slaves.
"They are heading in the direction of the bridge."
Here, the Shulayen valley was particularly deep. The river had dug its bed by forcing its passage through karstic hills, wearing off and digging the soft rock with the infinite patience so characteristic of the aqueous element.
If the bridge had been built there it was simply so that it would be high enough above the water for sailing boats to pass underneath.
And in these limestone hills, it was only possible to move through a few narrow paths along the river. And, of course, the orcs watched these passages...
A dozen barrels formed a barricade that blocked the path from the cliff to the peak at the foot of which the river flowed.
Behind, there was a large group of orcs. Warriors with iron-rimmed wooden shields and armed with axes, but also archers and even some shamans in homespun dresses with feathered headdresses and magic staffs decorated with skulls and various trinkets.
One orc, the largest and most muscular of the lot, spoke.
"Leave! The valley now belongs to the Broken Defense clan. You stay? You die!"
Khalid stepped forward, once again working as a diplomat... or leader of their small group.
"I'm afraid there is something I need to do on the other side. We could settle this peacefully."
Behind him, Antilene looked at her lover with disbelief as if he had grown a second head. Although uncomfortable, Khalid Deez continued to speak.
"No one has anything to gain from a fight like this."
"You fool," replied the enemy leader. "I glory to win. I conquer, subdue... that order of Jadalbaoth! If I disobey me dead, clan massacred!"
Obviously... it wasn't a video game with an unimaginative plot like The Good Guys versus The Bad Ones. Orcs weren't bad for the sake of being bad. The Demonic Emperor promised to give them this valley if they defended it... and he also promised that they should pay with their blood for a possible failure.
"Um... well, you probably didn't deserve a chance to survive." Antilene Heran Fouche AKA Certain Death advanced three steps and swirled her Glaive with impressive mastery before stopping on guard. A smile was on her lips, and her eyes glowed like those of a child discovering a bunch of presents at the foot of the Christmas tree. "I'm not complaining, you know... I was so bored... Come and play with me... I'll be nice... I promise "
A sinister aura began to swirl around the gothic girl and everyone (allies and enemies) had the same reaction, swallowing and retreating, as pale as hospital sheets.
A mephitic power was spreading around Antilene, inspiring an abominable terror.
What followed did not deserve the name of battle. Orcs had no more chance of survival than sheep entering a slaughterhouse.
Despite the shamans who summoned monsters, or blessed the warriors, despite the arrival of reinforcements, despite the barricade (which flew in a thousand pieces at the first attack of Antilene), despite the fanaticism of the orcs... their resistance was in vain.
In ten minutes everything was finished.
Khalid and Leyen had faced some orcs who had managed to bypass Certain Death, and Diolaine and Altiria had fired some bolts and arrows at the enemies. Miriel even had time to summon some creatures...
But most of the deaths were caused by the gothic harlequin girl. She slaughtered at least one hundred and fifty enemies in a hair-raising gore demonstration...
One would think that after such a one-sided fight, the orcs would give up. Such was not the case. The rest of the day was a long series of ambushes and skirmishes.
But whatever the method used, each fight ended with the victory of the adventurers. However, the orcs simply could not give up. Desperate, they resorted to a new weapon.
Seeing a barrel with a burning wick rolling down the slope, Miriel turned to her comrades.
"Take cover, get away from that barrel!"
Accustomed to Miriel reporting threats they had not seen, the other adventurers immediately obeyed.
And...
A violent explosion resounded, causing the collapse of part of the cliff. Heaps of rocks fell into the Shelayen, raising sheaves of foam.
A gray and acrid smoke stagnated around the pile of stones that blocked the path.
Miriel frowned... it was a little too familiar for her not to recognize the explosive used.
Except that...
The other members of the group all spoke at the same time.
"What the hell is that?"
"A form of magic?"
"No, I would say an alchemical substance..."
Except not one of her friends had ever heard of gunpowder! And it was quite disturbing... how the orcs could use an explosive that no one had ever heard of in the New World? (1)
Thanks to Leyen, they spotted the next ambush long before being trapped. And it was fortunate because the orcs had taken the time to prepare a well-crafted ambush that would have been deadly for most of them. The demi-humans had mined the cliff above and below the path. With a team to trigger one of the mines at the top of the cliff and another team installed on the other bank of the river (in hunters' shelter well hidden under the trees and by bushes) which would have fired fire arrows on the barrels located under the path.
Their plan was probably to detonate both mines simultaneously... collapsing the path under their feet and rushing them into the river, while burying them under tons of rocks.
It took a day of searching to find a place where the Shelayen could be crossed. Then it was necessary to climb the cliff... to Miriel's dismay. Certainly, she could fly (Antilene and Altiria could levitate) and was therefore not forced to climb a rope like the boys.
But...
Blushing, she pressed her skirt (slit too high to protect her modesty) against her legs to hide... uh... everything there was to hide before casting an angry glance at Leyen and Khalid.
"I cut you into pieces and throw you at the beasts if you look under my skirt while I go up!"
After this humiliating moment, everything went well.
They out-flanked the demi-humans in ambush before eliminating with bow and crossbow their congeners installed above the cliff.
Miriel reflected on the events of the last three days. In the eyes of humans, orcs were 'primitive brutes'. But their cunning and courage contradicted this a priori racist. As for their motivations... "If we do not defend the valley, Jaldabaoth will massacre the whole clan (including women and children)."
When she opened one of the barrels they had just captured, the Summoner discovered a gray-black powder...
"Black Powder, that's what I feared."
"What is this... Black Powder" asked Altiria.
"As you guessed, it's an alchemical compound. 75% saltpeter, 15% charcoal, 10% sulphide. The mixture has to be crushed and mixed into a silver mortar because, with the slightest spark, the Black Powder explodes."
But as she examined the powder, the half-elf realized that it was much more than an approximate mixture of the three substances she had listed. The grains were too big and agglomerated...
"When Black Powder is set on fire, most of the mixture ignites rather than explodes, at least when the mixture is not homogeneous enough. Except that, in our case, the powder has been treated with a process called 'granulation' which ensures that the whole powder will explode."
The Summoner shook her head. The inventiveness of the enemy worried her greatly. It was not at all like she had imagined a demi-human invasion. Where were the hordes of idiotic enemies who knew only the frontal attack and died en masse facing the Good Guys?
"You know the thesis that Jaldabaoth took control of demi-humans through his own power alone? Yes? ...it doesn't make any sense. For starters, the orc archers fired fire arrows at us. They are enchanted weapons that they probably did not make. They differ too much from their usual crude arrows. There is also the Black Powder, as well as the Teleportation's Scrolls and the smugglers' tunnel used during the assault on Targos... all this points to an organization with significant resources and the ability to methodically plan a large-scale invasion. The Demonic Emperor is part of such an organization... and I hope he's running it."
Diolaine seemed surprised.
"Why? Do you find it really reassuring that Jaldabaoth runs an organization that has such surprises in store for us?"
"In any case, it is much more reassuring than imagining that he is a mere subordinate..."
The thief frowned before understanding her friend's insinuation.
"Oh... seen from this angle... Indeed... "
Everyone remained silent to ponder the implications. Even Antilene seemed uneasy.
Finally, Khalid resumed speaking.
"You know, I'm thinking about all that wood the orcs cut. It's more of an intuition than anything else, but... I sense they're using it for a large-scale trap. The bridge is not likely to change places. I suggest we first see what they build with these tree trunks."
One after the other, the adventurers nodded, approving the half-elf initiative.
Except for Diolaine, the thief looked alternately at Miriel and Khalid Deez.
"You're upsetting me... I don't know what's more depressing, that you are capable of such twisted reasoning that I can't figure out half of that stuff... or that you always imagined sinister machination, conspiracies, and backstabbings. Because of you, I'll have nightmares this night."
After another ambush, where they faced orcs and trolls blocking the valley and archers at the top of the cliffs, the adventurers arrived on a limestone plateau overlooking the Shelayen River.
As they approached a village of which only collapsed walls and burnt beams remained, a woman approached them.
She was young, pretty dressed in a very simple dress, an apron, and a wimple who hid her hair.
However, her clothes were dirty and wrinkled and the expression of her face showed physical exhaustion and a poignant despair.
"My name is Monaka Eliok and I was sent to you by Tazok, the leader of the orcs of the Broken Defense clan. All the inhabitants of my village were captured by the orcs at the time of the attack on the valley. Tazok took them hostage. He threatens to kill them all if you don't leave immediately."
Antilene had a sniff of contempt... what did he care about the lives of some villagers in the Robble Kingdom?
But the other adventurers had reactions of indignation more or less obvious according to their character, even the stoic Leyden frowned, with an expression of disgust.
Even though he was as angry as the others, Deez did not waste time expressing his indignation. He had a lot of questions and he finally had someone in front of him who could answer them.
"We have seen human slaves working in the valley downstream, cutting trees and pulling logs. Were they the people of your village?" As the young woman nodded, he continued. "What are you building with all this wood?"
"The orcs first make us build a fort in the hills." Monaka pointed to a direction and then turned to point to the valley upstream. "Then they had us build a dam."
Khalid blinked repeatedly, the answer completely baffled him.
"A dam? What can they do with it?
Monaka Eliok seemed to regain some vigor.
'Well, we asked ourselves the very same question. After working hours, when we were back in the slave's enclosure, we talked a lot about the dam. It contains the waters of the river upstream of the canyon and has transformed the arable land north of the hills into a vast marsh... it's absurd. But what if the orcs open the floodgates?"
Miriel jolted. In imagination, she saw a wall of water running down the narrow canyon of the Shelayen River.
"A devastating flood..." she said.
Monika nodded.
"According to the village's elder, such a flood occurred in the past and everything was devastated as far as Daggerford, even the town was flooded."
"The rescue army."
All eyes turned to the one who had just spoken... it must be said that it was a man of very few words.
"The rescue army" repeated Leyen.
Altiria opened big frightened eyes, knowing her bodyguard since childhood, she had understood more quickly than the others.
"He is right, if they open the floodgates when the army is just at the foot of the hills, they will be swept away by the waves, and mercilessly drowned!"
Miriel swallowed, imagining tons of water coming out of the Shelayen Canyon to hit the road, submerging the terrorized foot soldiers, the horses fleeing desperately, and the whole column of troops being swept away by the liquid mass brutally released.
"Drowned like rats," said Khalid, his face pale. "The creator of this trap is a psychopath, a mass murderer, a butcher who must see humans as mere mosquitoes..."
Great Tomb of Nazarick
Demiurge AKA 'The Demon Emperor Jaldabaoth' sneezed suddenly, interrupting a strategic meeting attended by Ainz and most of the Floors' Guardians.
Mare turned to him, speaking in a tiny, shy voice.
"Got a cold?"
"Absurd, demons do not take cold."
This made Mare's sister laugh, Aura smiled mockingly.
"Then someone must speak ill of you, Demiurge."
The demon readjusted his glasses with a wry smirk.
"I wouldn't be surprised. Humans are inferior creatures who don't understand art."
Albedo coughed in her fist.
"Could I ask those present to pay attention to my explanations? We are gathered here in the presence of the Supreme One to discuss the invasion of the Re-Estize Kingdom."
With a hand on the heart, Demiurge bowed.
"I beg your pardon, Ainz-sama."
Everyone turned to the map unfolded on the table in front of Ainz Ooal Gown's throne. One could see the main cities of the west of the Re-Estize Kingdom. Blue figures represented Nazarick's undead hordes, and red ones were the human armies.
As feared by Miriel, 'Jaldabaoth' was a mere subordinate of an organization wishing to conquer the New World. The whole machination was just a diversion imagined by Demiurge in a secondary theater of operation of the Sorcerer Kingdom's planetary domination campaign...
On a hill overlooking the Shulayen River, a large palisade surrounded a carpenter' shop, the only building in the village not destroyed by the orcs and a cave.
The main door in this enclosure was open... but guarded by two orcs. Armed with a spear and protected by a shield, they stood guard watching the surroundings.
One of them heard a crack and turned his head.
There was an abandoned field to the right of the enclosure. There were a few apple trees and green grass. He took a few steps, looked behind the nearest tree, and then smiled as three crows flew away croaking.
As he returned to his place he did not see the grass straighten in one place, then bend to another... an invisible man cautiously advanced towards the door.
Diolaine Gisle Kure was a thief. She was discreet, able to progress almost without a sound and even hide among the shadows. But crossing a camp teeming with orcs armed to the teeth would have been a challenge in normal times... Except that Miriel had given her two small vials. By drinking this potion, Diolaine had become invisible!
Following the indications of Monaka Eliok, she entered a small hut and turned a wooden wheel. With a click, the side doors opened, giving access to the slaves' enclosure. But Diomlaine became visible again... the big flaw of the invisibility spells in OOO (whether it is the result of spells, scrolls, or potions) is that any action that made the existence of the invisible individual obvious, put an end to the spell.
Diolaine swallowed the second potion and promptly left the hut as a dozen angry orcs passed by her without suspecting her presence.
The struggle in the prison of the slaves and in the encampment was long and very violent. There were so many enemies that even Altiria, Diolaine, and Miriel had to fight in close contact.
They managed to eliminate the guards watching the human prisoners before they were ordered to execute the hostages. The rest of the battle was a long bloody melee. They defended the entrance to the palisade (fortunately narrow) against hundreds of furious greenskins.
They came out of the fight exhausted and covered in blood... Of course - as usual- Antilene had killed most opponents, but even she was slightly injured. Altiria had to heal Khalid and Leyen several times during the course of the battle... Their armor was damaged and their swords were chipped. They had finished the fight behind a barricade of corpses. Without the Healing Spells of the Elf Priestess, they would probably have succumbed to the number. She also used spells like Prayer, or Anti-Evil Protection, to help the fighters.
Miriel had summoned creatures and used some area spells like Spiderweb and Death Cloud to slow down and kill the orcs before they entered the area defended by the fighters.
After the massacre of the majority of the combatants and the escape of the survivors, they entered the caves.
"Turn Undead!"
Altiria Siina Verteil held her sacred emblem over her head but... the undead kept moving forward. She panicked.
"Why can't I repel them, they are just zombies!"
Antinlene leaped forward and sliced the nearest monsters into small pieces before piercing a sort of nodule that throbbed in the gelatinous mass that covered the animated corpses.
The priestess of the god of death answered without ceasing to cut off the approaching enemies.
"They are not true undead, they are silts zombies... simple puppets animated by jellies..."
Khalid Deez stepped aside while raising his shield, avoiding a greenish liquid that fell just where he had stood. The creature (because it was a living being) looked like a kind of translucent green mud or gelatin. It was a jelly, a slime-type creature.
"Pierce their core, it's a darker point in the translucent mass, let's say it's that monster's brain. And don't forget to look above you, their favorite tactic is to crawl on the ceiling and fall on you."
"Fire lash!"
Using her favorite Destruction School spell, Miriel immobilized another jelly that was crawling towards her. The half-elf was familiar with this kind of monster... they existed in many RPGs.
"They are vulnerable to fire. Use a torch or ignite them with your lantern oil."
A little ahead of the group, Diolaine had just raised her hand.
"Careful, there's a trap."
She knelt and removed the mud that hid a metal plate on the ground.
"A pressure plate."
She searched around and found a wire hidden behind a stalagmite that rose to the ceiling. Held by a clamp, a vial of oily liquid would have fallen on any adventurer who stepped on the trigger.
The thief brought the vial to Miriel who examined it.
"It's intense fire oil. The vial is brittle and breaks when it touches the ground. The liquid ignites in contact with the air. There is enough oil to create a fireball three meters in diameter."
In one of the last caverns, they met Chief Tazoc, his bodyguards in full plate armors, his great shaman, and his troll allies. They were enemies of a higher level than the clan basic fighters... but they were only fifty. The fight lasted less than a minute.
They had saved the inhabitants of the valley, liberated their village and utterly destroyed the Broken Defense clan.
Exhausted, wounded, and having used a good part of their spells, the adventurers rested the rest of the day before going back towards the dam.
And the routine of this hellish journey resumed... skirmishes, ambushes, traps... surviving orcs were participating in combat, but there were other opponents now. In fact, they had a kind of general presentation of the races that lived in the Abelion hills: armat, giants, pteropus, zent, snakemen, zoastia...
Some of these creatures were more powerful than orcs, but with a certain logic, these creatures were fewer and in fact, the journey was faster because the fights were shorter... Antilene cut a giant in two in one fell swoop while slaughtering two hundred orcs took at least a few minutes!
In the afternoon they arrived at the dam.
The defenders had gathered for a last stand with a good strategy: the archers were gathered on the scaffolding of the dam (a construction in a circular arc made of logs that held an artificial lake). They had cut the floating bridges that connected the two banks and troops mixing infantrymen and spellcasters controlled all the crossing points.
Thanks to Miriel's Force Field repelling the arrows, they used their bows and crossbows to eliminate the orc archers in perfect security. The fighting for the crossing of the river was rather violent but... once again Antilene's mere presence turned it into a unilateral massacre. There was simply no one who could survive more than a few seconds in front of her.
Once, the demi-humans were dead or on the run, it was once again Certain Death who solved the dam problem. She made a big hole with a single blow of her Glaive... and the water flowed while bubbling in the valley while the level of the holding lake was dropping quickly.
They had countered Jaldalbaoth's evil plan and averted a military disaster that would have forced the Robble Holly Kingdom to send the general reserves to the rescue of the northern barons... exposing the Great Wall to an attack by the Demonic Emperor.
Nevertheless, they still had to accomplish their main mission, take the bridge, and... this time they were not so lucky.
The initial assault proceeded as usual. Miriel's magic and Antilene's combat prowess... supplemented by the other members of the group, formed a combination of talents that the sole numerical superiority could not compensate for.
Nevertheless, as they destroyed the barricades at the entrance to the bridge... the center of the deck exploded suddenly. The space between two wooden pillars disintegrated, propelling in all directions boards and broken beams...
Once they had eliminated the last opponents, Miriel and Leyen (who seemed to be the one who knew best about engineering) examined the part of the bridge on their side of the chasm.
The good news was that the damage was repairable. Only one span of the bridge had collapsed. It was not the fault of the method of sabotage, some free slots under the other spans suggested that there were initially more powder barrels.
Diolaine laughed without joy.
"I feel like I know what the other barrels were used for."
Yes, it was obvious. Unfortunately, even if the bridge was repairable it would have to wait until the end of the war...
Miriel tried to cheer up the other members of her team.
"It's not tragic. The army will just have to make a detour. The nearest ford is three days' walk away."
Leyen suddenly spoke.
"No, three days walk for a small group."
The Summoner blinked repeatedly.
"Sorry?"
The elf - usually silent - had a lot to say for once. He spoke slowly, using simple, easy-to-understand phrases. Nevertheless while using specific vocabulary that proved he knew what he was talking about.
"An army walks to the rhythm of its slowest wagon. Every morning, the army dismantles the camp. Every evening, the army must stop several hours before sunset to have time to settle. As a result, an army is four to six times slower than a lone traveler on foot. Increasing the journey of an army by ten days also requires adding as many wagons as it takes to carry ten days of rations... which further slows down the army. The sum of these problems is called logistic extension.'"
The elf drew his sword and stretched his arm to the maximum.
"Just as the best swordsman in the world cannot strike an opponent beyond the reach of his sword, so the best army in the world cannot strike an enemy beyond its logistical reach. When an army fights within its logistic extension, the situation is called Simple. But if both sides have to make a ten-day detour (without supplemental rations), the situation is called Critical because they will both suffer from attrition problems."
Miriel dared to ask a question.
"Why is the situation Critical?"
"Because the lack of food reduces the campaign time, which forces both sides to seek battle and accept it even if the situation is unfavorable to them. This kind of situation always leads to bloody clashes where both opponents seek to win at all costs... because they would starve if they ran away. Many of the seemingly absurd and unnecessarily bloody battles can be explained by logistical failure."
"Oh... I... I see. That means the fight is going to be equal because..."
"No!"
Leyen shook his head.
"You do not understand what role a military campaign plays in the preparation of a battle (2). You play chess?" Without waiting for her answer, the elf continued. "Imagine that a new rule is added. The number of moves is now limited. You have to win the game in less than fifty moves. Would this not force you to advance the pawns as quickly as possible on the board, to take the most direct routes? What chance do you have of executing a complex strategy? A Critical situation is a clash of brutes, both sides hit each other with all their might to get the KO as quickly as possible. This is a situation that favors the camp with the largest army and the one in a defensive position."
Leyen stopped talking and shook his head with sadness.
"And the Demi-human alliance is in a defensive position on the Shelayen... a deep-edged river that can only be crossed at a ford easy to defend... and they have a wide numerical superiority. The Alliance of Barons has very little chance of defeating Jadalbaoth."
The elf sheathed his sword and walked away, visibly desiring to be alone for a while.
Miriel turned to Altiria. She was a little shocked by the extent of Leyen's military knowledge. She would never have suspected that he might be some sort of army strategist.
"Who is he?"
The elf priestess had a sad smile.
"His father was King Decem Hougan's general. Our sovereign entrusted him with an impossible task: defeat the Slane Theocracy. This nation populated by humans, obviously had a more prolific population, and therefore a larger army. Moreover, it was a larger and richer country. Certainly, Leyen's father won many battles but gradually the demographic difference compelled the Elven kingdom to defeat. King Decem executed him and his entire family..."
Aristeia paused for a brief moment reliving a scene from her past. They were still children. Leyen was her playmate at the time. She had just crowned him with flowers, proclaiming that he would be her champion when a messenger interrupted their innocent games.
"Luckily, Leyen was home and father hides him. He is the only member of the Aristeia family still alive."
Antilene Heran Fouche had listened to the whole discussion without moving and without saying a word, but she turned her head to watch Leyen Aristeia walk away.
She could not help but compare her story to hers. They were both victims of Decem Hougam. In the etymological sense, she sympathized with him... sharing the same pain.
A thin crack had just appeared in the monolithic hatred that Certain Death felt for all the elves.
Nazarick Throne Room
Demiurge knelt before Ainz Ooal Gown
A hand on the heart, he spoke in an upset tone.
"Ainz-sama, once again you were right. My plan to destroy the army of the barons with the flooding of the Shelayen Valley failed because of an unforeseeable action of the humans."
On the throne, the undead looked at him in silence without saying anything.
A little worried, the demon tried to justify himself.
"Nevertheless, my backup plan was a success. My agents sabotaged the bridge. The counter-attack of the barons won't be made easier. I still have the advantage in this conflict, Creator."
The Sorcerer King raised a skeletal hand adorned with precious rings.
"No need to justify yourself, Demiurge. Everyone makes mistakes from time to time, even I do."
Demiurge looked at the last of the 41 Supreme One in shock.
"You? Make a mistake? Never... You are the perfect embodiment of genius."
The Overlord's jaw seemed ready to unhook as he looked at his subordinate. The blindness of the Floor's Guardians never ceased to amaze him. How could they take him for a genius? He was just an ordinary Japanese salaryman. Since his arrival in the New World, he was constantly improvising without any overall plan.
"However, Ainz-sama, in the interest of the carrot-or-stick plan, we must terrorize the population of the Robble Holy Kingdom."
Ainz nodded. Even he understood where the conversation was leading them.
"You want to use IT, I already gave you permission. Just remember that the army of the barons should just be used for Jaldabaoth's show of strength. No need to kill everyone."
Demiurge looked at his master with surprise and did what he knew best... overthinking. The expression on his face changed reflecting admiration and joy.
"Oh... It's brilliant... I hadn't thought of it. This idea transforms my plan and makes it absolutely perfect."
Frozen, Ainz looked at Demiurge without understanding. What did he say that could be interpreted as a genius move? Above his head, '?' signs hatched by the tens.
"Hmm?"
"I understand better why you seemed to disapprove of my plan to drown the army of the barons. But you didn't say anything Ainz-sama, you let me make a mistake. Of course, you wanted me to realize I was wrong all along. It's a wonderful lesson you just gave me."
Demiurge was radiant, once again convinced of the genius of his master.
"And of course, saving these despicable humans improves my plan. They will flee as far as possible telling everywhere that Jaldabaoth has a terrifying new weapon... panic will spread throughout the kingdom. It's brilliant, a beautifully carved manipulation of the mass, I would never have imagined such a perfect plan!
In fact... no... even after becoming a pile of bones, Ainz was still sick at the thought of drowning tens of thousands of humans just for the benefit of a diversion move. And slaughtering them using the product of one of Ulbert's twisted ideas was even worse.
Instead of saying that, he made a hand gesture...
"That's exactly it, Demiurge."
As the demon moved away from the throne room, in good spirit and in admiration after a new demonstration of the genius of the Supreme One... Ainz collapsed onto his throne, massaging his temples with one hand.
"Their faith in me is absolutely suffocating... I am so afraid of disappointing them."
Ainz loved Nazarick's NPC like a father loved his children.
Author's note: I have a weird theory. If Ainz's improvised plans and the hyper-complicated plans of Demiurge work in the New World it is because of a phenomenon of... suspension of reality. Because the character sheets of these two say they are geniuses, a distortion of reality changes the result so that their plans lead to success making them appear retrospectively as geniuses. What do you think?
(1) Hint: black powder is used for fireworks in Yggdrasil. But you know, in the Lord of the Rings, Gandalf used black powder for fireworks and Saruman... What did Saruman do with black powder?
(2) A campaign is, in military jargon, the set of operations that encompasses an offensive or a defensive strategic maneuver (there are seven levels of campaign management from diplomacy/ propaganda to tactics that will be applied by troops in combat). In a pre-modern war, a campaign always results in a 'decisive battle' (like Alesia, Waterloo, or Gettysburg) but can include secondary battles, sieges, raids on supplies, offensive reconnaissance operations, etc... To reuse the analogy already used by Leyen, it is the movements of the pieces on the chessboard that push one of the important pieces of the opposing player into a position where you can capture it.
Most historical magazines (or your teachers at school) tell you about a Decisive Battle by omitting the campaign that preceded it. And sometimes it makes the battle completely incomprehensible...
A good example is the battle of Actium in 31 BCE.
Why did Marcus Antonius decide to attack Augustus' fleet (under Agrippa's command) when he had prepared everything for a land battle and still had cavalry horses on board? Was he a fool?
No, of course, simply he lost the preliminary campaign so completely that he was forced to accept a Decisive Battle under such adverse conditions. I let you do your research yourself if the subject interests you (this is not the right place for a debate on the battle of Actium).
Just remember this: the 'Decisive Battle' is a myth. Most of the time, the winner is determined by the military campaign that preceded the battle... and the battle itself only represents the capture of the knight in D2 by the pawn in C3.