Chương 67: Chapter 54 - Preparations

Isengrim watched warily as one of those huge beasts trod between the tents, its'head' swiveling about. He didn't know what they were looking for, if anything, and did not intend to ask. His own feelings were not reflected in the troops, whose morale, as well as their respect and fear towards Degurechaff, had soared after the first War Hound had been made. While Isengrim's spirits in regards to the coming battle were lifted as well, he was not a simple peasant who lived purely in the now.

He had lived for centuries and seen much of the Northern Kingdoms. As such, he liked to think he understood the implications of what was happening here better than most. Tanya von Degurechaff, a fresh graduate of Aretuza, had accomplished what neither Alzur, nor his students, nor Alzur's insane spiritual successors residing in Rissberg, had managed. A monumental feat whose importance seemed to escape not only Degurechaff but everyone else surrounding her here.

It was debatable whether Alzur or his students like Idarran of Ulivo had even wanted to create controllable monsters, but they had not succeeded as far as he knew. Well, if one did not count witchers. However, Isengrim was one of the few who knew that the same had been a long-standing project of those in the Rissberg castle, to some limited success.

There would certainly be consequences to that, Isengrim knew, but what exactly they'd be escaped him, as he had little understanding of internal Brotherhood politics, especially regarding Rissberg. He didn't know whether their activities had the Chapter's blessing, tacit or otherwise, though it very clearly went against their little rules. He only knew of it because too many of their creatures had escaped over the years.

However, there was a glaringly obvious implication to this that even he, with his modest understanding of sorcery, saw. Tanya von Degurechaff was an incredible talent. And for better or worse, she was ambitious. If her thread was not cut short, her name would eventually join the likes of Alzur, Raffard the White, Hen Gedymdeith or Ortolan. The scarred elf watched the beast trot away, hand on his sword. He did not notice how his grip lightened as the beast left.

In times of peace, it was not unusual for soldiers to be sent to deal with particularly troublesome monsters, but it wasn't common, either. A sweet spot had to be met where the locals could not deal with the matter themselves, while the beast harmed the bottom line of the local lord enough. This didn't happen that often, and when it did, most favoured hiring professionals instead of risking their own troops, whether witchers or more mundane monster hunters.

Simply put, the majority of soldiers and generals had no idea how to deal with something like this. Even if they knew, there might not be much to do in the moment. What could a spearman do against a dragon but die? Monsters fighting as a part of a regular army were going to lead to a paradigm shift. Isengrim could see it. Perhaps large numbers of heavy arbalests or more portable ballistae would become the norm for armies in the future, or some other counter he could not see would take their place.

Whether Degurechaff was a once-in-a-generation genius or not, when it became clear that controllable War Beasts, as the sorceress had called them, were possible, other kingdoms were going to do their best to get their own. Probably with a great many more accidents than her." And so shall begin the extinction of the world," he murmured, "At least the witchers will be happy."

Ortagor found Bastan near one of the hellspawn, and the baron's mood immediately soured once he noticed the former mercenary turned officer grinning like a loon. To his credit, the man quickly got his facial expression under control once he spotted Ortagor approaching.

"I always thought magic was for turning people into frogs and curing impotence, but turns out, mages can make something useful," Bastan spoke casually. The baron suppressed a grimace. They were technically equals under Degurechaff, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"How are your new duties treating you, Commander Bastan?" Ortagor changed the subject. Bastan shrugged, "Her system works well, even if strange. I had my second take command over the new battalion made out of the levies, while we picked a particularly talented sergeant to take over my former command. He still needs some extra coaching, but for the most part, everyone knows how to do their jobs."

"I see," Ortagor responded, and he did. He knew he was somewhat old-fashioned, but Degurechaff's military organisation had mostly won him over at this point. He was well aware that many amongst the nobility squandered their talents, living as useless fops despite the many advantages their blood had given them. Though he still wasn't sure if letting commoners lead was a good idea.

What was there to stop, say, Bastan, once retired, from deciding he did not like living under the Crown after all and utilising all that experience and connections to try and carve up a slice of Cintra for himself, or even rebel outright? The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. With the enemy at the proverbial gates, it did not matter much, but just like with the War Hounds, it promised to be trouble in the future. He would remain vigilant.

"Repeat that again, Degurechaff," Calanthé commanded, staring at me from behind her desk in her office. We were the only two present. With the War Hound project largely functional, I had little excuse not to visit the Capital to report properly, especially considering the convenience of portals. It was, after all, one of the main reasons why I had worked so hard to master the spell.

"The War Hounds are ready, Your Majesty," I did as she asked.

"Which are?" I blinked, "Er, the creation of large dog monsters, loyal and obedient, for the purpose of augmenting the royal army?" Had she forgotten? I was pretty sure that I had mentioned this back when I had half-conscripted the kennel master to help with it.

"I see," she stared at me, for a few seconds, "The Crown thanks you for your unwavering service. Vissegerd has apprised you of our movements?" I nodded. The situation could be neatly summarised as: Once again, we were surprised with our pants down. Attre had left a giant hole when it came to monitoring Nazair. The unfortunately named Dreadhold would be in a better position to fulfil that duty, but that'd take time. The Marshall was doing his best gathering troops.

The bulk was going to be composed of the Crown's forces, alongside the forces of a certain Duke Reynmar Alistair Valerand von Hagenau Riannon, the Queen's distant relative, and perhaps the most powerful of the nobles firmly in the crown's sphere of influence - in other words, the rest of the nobility was dragging their feet, likely in some demented ploy to flex their influence now that they thought the Queen unable to retaliate - well, except those who lived near the southern border.

Unfortunately, they were probably right.

"Good," Calanthé breathed out, staring at me thoughtfully, "Your time here has been rather eventful so far, Degurechaff."

"Unfortunately so," I concurred. Hopefully things would calm down once this mess was sorted. Calanthé hummed agreeably, "Go see my daughter, sorceress. And… good luck."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," I bowed, and left. Viktoriya and Vooren waited for me outside, the dogs as obedient as ever. As the little princess had negotiated, I had brought them both. The last two to not be transformed. It was unfortunate that the girl was still too young to be properly taught magic, but she'd grow. Pavetta had been delighted as expected, but I could not afford to spend too much time with her.

A simple check-up that had revealed nothing amiss, both in regards to her education and her nature as a Source. In my tower, a message from Tissaia had waited for me, teleported straight to my study by the Rectoress, as we had arranged. It was a bit old as this was the first opportunity for me to check in weeks. Reading through, I was left both somewhat disappointed and gratified.

Tissaia had approached Gerhart of Aelle, otherwise known as Hen Gedymdeith, a fellow Chapter member as well as a Source trained in Loc Muinne by the elven Aen Saevherne. The information the old man provided was, well, not really worth bothering him in the first place. Tissaia had been fairly delicate in her writings, but I got the feeling that Hen Gedymdeith was not all there, mentally.

Considering he was born in the 8th century, making him old enough to meet those who lived through the First Landing of humans on the continent, this wasn't terribly surprising. Still, it was at least confirmation. Hen Gedymdeith urged discipline and training, so that the Source in question would be ready once their Power manifested, preventing any unfortunate accidents. Similar enough to the conclusion I had arrived at with Tissaia, but it was good to know that an expert agreed.

The second part of the message warned me that my recent venture in Attre had attracted some attention, though no one seemed keen to revisit a matter largely closed in the last inquest. It seemed that the eyes of the Brotherhood would stay on me for some time. Lastly, before I could leave for Dreadhold, I had a meeting with Baron Eylembert. We met in an empty meeting room, the occasion somewhat reminiscent of one of the assassination attempts on my person. Fortunately, no such thing happened this time.

Eylembert sat opposite to me, twirling his moustache. After exchanging greetings, he got immediately to the point, "The Queen wishes for the Cintran Intelligence to expand south, a sensible course of action, in my opinion." I nodded easily. In my opinion, an agency such as this operating domestically was the bare minimum. Expanding it outside Cintra's borders would do much for the Kingdom's safety.

"Dreadhold will be well positioned to help in those efforts, once it is complete," he continued. I smiled pleasantly, "What can I help you with, Baron?" Eylembert shrugged his shoulders, somewhat sheepishly, "The easiest way to accomplish our objectives without wasting inordinate amount of men and resources, as far as I can see, is through magic. Your Aviary, for one. Portals, ideally."

"Ah," I nodded, "I largely agree, however, I fear that I may be a tad busy at the moment."

"I know, of course. I doubt there is much for us to learn now, anyway. I believe the Queen seeks to prevent anything like this from happening again. One must plan for the next crisis before the current one ends and all that."

"A laudable mindset," I concurred, "Is that everything?" The Baron eyed me in silence, then spoke after a few seconds, "You are serving as our bulwark in times of crisis, Degurechaff, and without a complaint. The Queen may be harsh, but do not think she is not appreciative of your efforts." I blinked. Why would I think she was not? I was going above and beyond my duties, and if Dreadhold was any indication, the Queen clearly appreciated that.