“Can you offer less than the 15?” I asked. “I intended only for 10,000.”
Frederick shrugged. “Sure, but that’s really for the bean counters to handle. I just wanted a proper face-to-face with you, so you knew who your representative is in all matters relating to this game. Normally, I’m a bit busy managing a lot of different nobles, so contact via letter or messenger will be best.”
“I see, well thank you for taking time out of your schedule to meet with me.”
Frederick looked at Archibald for a moment. “Mind if we speak, alone?”
Archibald shrugged, grabbed the decanter of whiskey off the desk and wandered out the room. It seemed the man had no shame when drinking the liquors of the government. But then again, he had worked as a public accountant for a few years before joining my estate. Perhaps this was just an old habit.
I shifted a little, nervous to be sitting across from such an important man, all alone. I know it’s silly, but here I was, a young man with barely any real life experience under his belt, a perpetual student, and across from me was a high ranking member of the Crown. Without someone beside me, someone more qualified, I felt naked almost. Exposed.
Frederick leaned forward, pushing his glass aside and sitting up straight. All manner of warmth and kindness faded from his face. I felt my stomach drop at the sight of his serious side. “Richard, there is something you should know about your decision to enter the Great Game.”
“W-what’s that?” I stammered, trying my best to keep my composure. The darkness on the man’s face was greatly unnerving.
“It very well saved your life,” he said. “And the lives of your family members. I can’t reveal much because there is an ongoing investigation but…something is happening to the landed men and women of Velicia. Those who aren’t participating in the Gentleman’s War are being…picked off. Not quickly, mind you. But slowly. One by one. An accident here, a poisoning there. No one wants to say anything yet, but I can see a pattern beginning to unfold. Someone or something is up to no good in our country. And you’ve insulated yourself. Because those in the Great Game are safe so far. And I don’t think that will change.”
My stomach churned and I found myself sinking back in my chair. It was a terrible time to lose my composure, but I felt myself break. Suddenly, tears were flowing, and I began yapping away at him, telling this powerful man all about the fate of my family. He took it all in stride, never chiding me for my tears, nor stopping me once to ask questions. He merely sat dutifully, listening with great concern.
I don’t know why I broke right then and there. Up until now, I had been doing well, or so I thought. I had grieved appropriately when it was time to grieve, so why were these feelings still here? Why did I still hurt so badly?
Once my story had finished, and my sobs were stifled thanks to the handkerchief he had offered me, he spoke. “I had figured something had happened. Though I am confused as to why you wouldn’t tell me from the beginning.”
“I had advice that your office was…well, loose with their words,” I confessed. “I don’t want this story spreading any further than it needs to be.”
Frederick nodded at that. “Understood. On my word, this stays with me. I wish that I could give you reassurance and tell you that we’ll find the killers but…the Crown won’t respond to my requests for investigation. They’re too bogged down with other matters across the Ethenium Border. Do you read the papers?”
I shrugged. “Politics was never my strong suit. At least, not current matters anyway.”
“Well, a conflict is stirring,” Frederick explained. “And it might be the very first time we deploy golems on foreign soil. Could be a real game changer for Velicia. Needless to say, all resources are dedicated towards preparing for the trouble to come. But…I say all that because I want you to know that there are people here, trying to find the truth. As soon as I get even a hint of a lead, I’ll send someone your way. In return, I would ask you do the same. My office can’t be everywhere.”
“I have made it my solemn vow to find out who was behind this,” I said. “And bring them to justice.”
“Good man,” Frederick replied with a grin. “Many in your position would just shrink away and find someone stronger to ally with. I admire your guts.”
There came a knock on the door. “Come in,” the Minister barked. “I do apologize for the interruption, but I do need to eat in the mornings, else I get woozy for the rest of the day.”
“I would think it would be the liquor, not the lack of food causing the dizziness,” I mumbled as a servant entered, carrying a large tray of cheeses, meats and sliced pears. My eyes grew wide at the sight of the pears once more.
Noticing this, Fredrick motioned for me to join him in the lounge. “Please, help yourself. The fruit comes in fresh by Shriekbird Express daily.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” I said, grabbing the sliced pear and popping it into my mouth. It was delicious. “You know,” I said in between bites. “I almost got a whole basket of these. My neighbor sent them to me as a gift. But you know, according to the custom you have to give it to the staff.”
Frederick paused from eating a slice of cheese, his mouth open. He frowned and looked up at me. “Your neighbor…sent you a fruit basket? Or just a pear?”
“Oh, a whole basket of fruit. You should have seen it,” I said, making a motion. “Even had bananas in it!”
The military man snickered a little, then put down his half-eaten cheese slice. “Mister Richard, I feel it is my duty to inform you that generally, it is customary to send a neighbor a fruit basket when you intend to invade.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I gasped, practically spitting the pear out.
“Don’t ask me where the tradition started, but that was not a friendly gift, but a declaration of mal-intent. I think the fruit is a sign of the invasion attempt being out of desire for sport, as opposed to desire for power. Hard to keep up with the rapidly-changing customs…”
I didn’t hear the rest of the Minister’s words, for I was already halfway out the door. The Frankinsons intended to attack? And one area was still completely unsecured: the vineyard. I had to sign for that loan and fast!
Chapter 16
The news of my neighbor’s sudden desire to attack me was startling. The Frankinsons were quiet people who never paid us any mind. I couldn’t for the life of me even remember the name of the head of the household, let alone any other member of their house. They were a Gentry like myself, content to sit upon their salt mines in peace and harmony. Salt had tremendous value in all parts of the world, so they were quite literally sitting upon a large amount of monthly silver generation.
As I furiously signed the paperwork to get the loan from the Institute, I wracked my brains trying to figure out what territory the Frankinsons would strike. The Vineyard was undefended, but were they after money? Fruit baskets were apparently a sporting kind of gift, meaning that perhaps they just wanted to see what my strengths were. Or maybe gauge if I would be a threat to them later on. If they were after sport, they would probably not go after the undefended territory…but then again, wouldn’t any sane person target a free spot?
The moment the paperwork was signed, I was notified that the silver had been deposited in my account. Archibald and the signatory both were saying something to me, but I had already tuned them out, activating the Grid. Their muffled words faded as the world expanded around me. The transition was a little jarring, but I kept myself steady.
On the map, I could see the Frankinsons’ territory—Frankinson Castle—glowing red. Impending Attack hovered above their land, the words greatly imposing on the world map. I gritted my teeth and groaned. A small box appeared, informing me of the situation.
Impending Attack Has Been Detected
Invasion Countdown: 2 hours
Targeted Territory: ???
Invasion Strength: ???
Okay, so I had two hours until the hit. Targeted
territory was completely unknown. If they came after my Fire Spice mines, I had that area relatively well covered. There were plenty of turrets and golems there to defend my land. What about my Manor? Well, if they were just having a go at me for sport, they wouldn’t dare risk invoking my (minor) wrath by targeting my home. It was either my Fire Spice Mines or the Vineyard…
I frowned, thinking hard about my predicament. The Frankinsons were lazy by reputation. But they could have eyes on my land, or at least maybe sent a spy to survey the area. If they saw my Vineyard was wide open, they might try to legitimately steal it from me. However, in the interest of preserving peace, they’d send a fruit basket in order to give the appearance they were just attacking for sporting reasons, on the off-chance that they lost. I’d be grumpy at them sure, but I couldn’t claim them being dishonorable for having sent a warning ahead of time.
In other words, I think they were trying to get a free Vineyard, while pretending to simply test me. Worst case scenario, they lost a battle. Best case scenario, they got exactly what they wanted. I had better spend my energies bolstering up the Vineyard.
Although here there was a tiny little complication. I was out of mana crystals. Having become so engrossed in protecting my home territory from my shadow enemy, I had neglected to save any crystals for the Vineyard. Well, not quite, I had six crystals left—holdovers from my previous purchases. Enough to buy some Karrack Towers. Still, I had to make do with what I had. Ten thousand silver had just been infused into my account. All of which was required to be used only on buildings. Let’s hope the Vineyard had a building-friendly topography.
Responding to my focus, the Vineyard battle zone expanded, revealing a quaint little map. The vineyard itself was on one end of the map, just outside of the squares of the battle grid. The combat zone was divided into two parts, separated by a long running river. I had seen this river many times, but now, from above, I realized the sheer tactical brilliance of such a natural barrier.
Golems couldn’t cross active bodies of water; it was one of their few limitations. Water submersion of any level past a light rain caused the alchemical bindings that kept the stone beasts together to loosen. While they technically wouldn’t be destroyed, since their crystal cores would be intact, they would stop functioning. Getting a large pile of rocks to fight in any battle was a miracle not even Malphius could perform.
There was a bridge leading across the river, connecting the two flat lands together. In terms of size, the bridge was four squares long and two squares wide. Without any golems, defending the Vineyard would be tricky. But that bridge created an interesting opportunity for a design. The choke point was quite strategic.
First, I had to place the Mana Sphere. Easy enough, way in the back, in the eastern corner. Next up, I had to figure out the maze design. Rather than create a winding maze like last time, perhaps a more unorthodox approach would work here. The enemy force needed to be demoralized more than anything. Given a sense of discouragement. After all, the Frankinsons were not known for being particularly quarrelsome. If I could get an early surrender, all the better.
So rather than build a labyrinth out of barricades, I decided to simply fill up just about every possible space in the first sector with barricades, forcing the invading enemy to destroy every single wall on their way to reach me.
In the second sector, past the bridge, I began to rapidly place down high range weapons. Five Ballistae, capable of shooting anything in the first sector with ease, were set in the center of the map. Five Miniature Trebuchets were put in the back, also able to strike anything in the map. With the enemy being forced to fight through each and every barricade, the travel time of the trebuchet payload wouldn’t be such a big deal.
Within a span of ten seconds, I had managed to spend nearly 3,000 silver. The Institute stooge probably wouldn’t have to stick around much longer with that kind of spending speed. But I had more to buy. Six Karrack Towers, three on each side of the bridge, were able to cover the entire entrance to sector 2. The enemies would have to stop right at the barricades on the bridge and clump up quite a bit. Between the Karracks hitting 12 golems at a time, the Ballistae hitting any random target in the area and the huge chunks of debris coming from the trebuchet…well, I’d like to think this was a hearty defense.
I quickly zoomed out to see the Security Status of the Vineyard. Haverton Vineyard Status: Secure. Defense Level: 4
“Yes!” I said out loud, throwing my fist into the air. I struck something, but paid no mind to it, for I couldn’t hear anyone yelp in pain. It would seem that towers provided the highest amount of defense rating so far. Or perhaps Stone Golems were so cheap that they barely had any effect on the rating, since any other golem cost at least twice their recruitment cost. Either way, the Vineyard was properly secured.
By the time I had finished my quick work, the timer had suddenly changed from 2 hours left to 1 minute to go. The staggering effects of time’s passage while in the Grid were quite difficult to adapt to. But at least I wouldn’t have to wait around for the attack any longer; that was a silver lining, right?
A small symbol of a red caravan appeared on the overland map. It was moving along the public roads, straight towards the Vineyard. I had been right in my assessment. Enemy Incoming flashed above the caravan with a countdown, showing I had about 1 minute before they arrived. I wondered if perhaps there would be a way to expand my vision, so to speak, to be able to detect enemy invasions well before they were close to my territory. Without my meeting with the Chief Minister, I would have been completely caught off-guard. They would have easily captured the Vineyard.
An icon appeared in my vision. Impending Invasion. Move to battleground? Without really thinking, I selected the Yes option, curious to see what would happen. In an instant, I was hurtling down towards the entrance to the Vineyard, surging forward like I was a veritable bolt of lightning coming from the heavens.
I yelped in surprise as I struck the ground, feeling the sensation as vividly as if I were really there. And then, at once, I realized that I indeed was on the battlefield. I could see my arms and legs, could feel the ground beneath my shoes and smell the freshly pressed grapes from the vineyard behind us. Teleportation? How was this possible? I had never read of such a phenomenon existing before. In fact, the ability to teleport was considered to be the holy grail of any alchemist. Such a thing was pursued, sure, but truly it was impossible. Until now?
As I stood, staring at my hands in sheer incredulity, the enemy caravan arrived. Three large wagons with golem-containing crates rolled up to the entrance. It wasn’t a particularly large force, but enough to cause some damage to my maze. Damage that they would have to pay for full well.
My sense of wonder faded and was rapidly being replaced with a sense of rage. Rage that our long-term neighbors, whom I always believed to be friends of ours, would dare try and invade me. Why, if I weren’t a gentleman, I’d be half tempted to challenge my invader to a real round of fisticuffs.
A carriage rolled up beside one of the wagons, drawn by horses. Either a sign of someone who refused to adapt to the times or was simply just too poor to buy the latest and greatest models. The gorgeous green and gold lining of the carriage and the heavy armor the four horses were wearing indicated that money wasn’t the issue here.
Once stopped, the doors to this antiquity opened up and an old man, withered and grey, staggered out of the vehicle, attempting his best to stay upright. He was wearing some kind of green ceremonial robe and it seemed to be weighing him down quite heavily. He struggled for a moment but managed to stand up properly.
“Grandfather, I told you to wait!” came a young man’s voice from inside the carriage. A slender, blonde-haired man emerged from the other side, a great look of concern across his face. He was boyish in his looks, with round cheeks and a pair of unflattering square spectacles (for the fashion these days were round!) but was most likely in his mid-twenties. He carried a cane, not to lean on but t
o bring to his grandfather, who grumpily refused to take the walking apparatus.
“Bah, I can walk! I walked through the gas fields of Mizerton and I can walk a few steps to meet my foe!” the old man wheezed, swiping ineffectually at the grandson. The young man looked over at me and mouthed the words “by the Stars I am so sorry.” He clasped his hands together to pantomime pleading for forgiveness.
Lightning cracked behind me and I glanced back to see that one of the Queen’s Men had appeared in his tower. Oh, I suppose he used this form of teleportation too. I had been so overwhelmed with everything last fight that I hadn’t even noticed his appearance as being miraculous. Now I wondered just how he was doing this. What if teleportation was a secret of the Crown?
“There he is!” the old man said as he hobbled forward. I am so ashamed to say I had no clue who he was, but I assumed he was the patriarch of the Frankinsons. “The first in his lineage to join the game!” His grandson walked behind him, hands out and at the ready to catch the old man should he fall over.
“I am Richard Blake,” I said with a bow. “And I am most displeased with your attempt to invade me. I would caution you to call this off now. Lest this cause an escalation between our houses.”
“See?” the grandson hissed. “I told you, I told you he would be angry.”
“Nonsense, Richard,” Mr. Frankinson said. “This is just a friendly jab. A small test to show the world that I still got it! Come now, what’s a little competition between two allies, hmmm? Your uncle never showed much enthusiasm for anything other than drinking my liquor! And while I sorely miss his company, I don’t miss his appetites. He mentioned you quite a bit though, said you had a good head on your shoulders. So I’m here to give you a little run for your money!”
“I don’t appreciate it. I find this unsporting and a crass attempt to take what isn’t yours,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I would encourage you to stand down. I’m not joking about escalation.”
Gentleman's Wars: The Rules of Engagement: A Tower Defense LitRPG Series (The Great Game Book 1) Page 10
