Executor Rising: A GameLit/LitRPG Adventure (Magnus Book 2)
Page 30
“Noted. I shall see what we can do.”
MC began focusing on the task at hand—relocating away the snow at the locations that Morvo’s team had marked, digging down to the bedrock underneath. Then he took that rock and fused it with the rock right below, compacting the surface to make it stable. The artillery emplacements would then drill down fifty feet into the rock to anchor them in place.
Teleporting across the crater rim, he compacted over a dozen sites in a similar manner. They may never have enough armament to fill them all, but the sites would be ready if they ever needed them. All he had to do now was to bore vertical shafts within the crater wall to allow easy access to the positions. The Resistance would be able to rig up elevator systems if he gave them some tunnels.
The fact that Sanctuary’s crater rim butted up against other rims at a handful of locations didn’t fill him with confidence, so he took the opportunity to relocate away massive sections of rock, essentially creating a moat between his own crater rim and the adjacent ones. That way, any monsters airdropped onto another crater would have to drop down and back up on the other side, creating a perfect kill zone.
Checking his helmet’s HUD, he realized he was already overdue for his next appointment—training the freshly recruited Zevan. Not a chore he was especially looking forward to, yet Krar had personally asked him to be present when the knights had their first training session alongside their Dyn squadmates.
Since the Zevan considered all Dyn to be gods, and the latter considered the former to be inherently inferior lifeforms—a sentiment shared by the Resistance—this was shaping up to be quite an interesting event. In all the ways that MC hated.
Shaking his head, he teleported down the crater rim, riding energy dampening pads until he had descended all the way. The Resistance had fabricated cable cars at points along the wall, but why ride when you can fall with style?
And there really was no better landing than sticking a Superman landing. He teleported down into the crater, dropping the last several feet on energy dampening plates, but the crowd’s reaction was not what he’d expected.
“Emsieee! I missed youuu!”
A gelatinous blob came running on her tiny legs like a guided missile, a white ribbon attached to her hair.
“Girl? What the hell are you doing here?”
Thirty-Eight
“Magnus! Have you seen a little girl—ah! There you are! Get back here you little brat!” Nina yelled breathlessly.
“Emsieee, save me! There’s a horrible monster and she’s trying to eat me! Make her disappear!” Ansala shouted, attaching herself securely to MC’s leg.
“You mean my sister?”
“Y-your sister?” the little amoebette cried, shocked beyond belief. “You have to deal with her every day? Emsie, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, that’s cute. Very cute,” Nina deadpanned. “How about I come over there and teach you what a real monster looks like? Your mother’s been worried sick about you!”
Ansala stuck out her tongue.
“How the heck did you get here, anyway?” MC asked. “Can’t imagine you snuck through a portal when no one was looking.”
“Daddy’s a knight, silly! Of course I’d come along too! It’s good to know that you’re as dull as ever!” she said, giggling.
MC ignored her.
“I didn’t think the knights’ families were due for another week.”
“There was a change of plans,” Nina replied. “Some of the knights have small kids, so the empress thought it best if their families joined them as soon as possible. But Magnus, what’s the deal with this girl? You know each other?”
“Well—”
“That’s damn right, you evil woman!” the runt exclaimed, hands on her hips. “Emsie and me go way back. He saved me from the evil people in my village and I showed him how to survive in the forest and I’ve been telling everyone how awesome he is ever since!”
“Oh come on. You found some berries. Not like we’d have died without those.”
Nina burst out laughing, unable to contain herself. “This has gotta be a great story. Tell me, what else did you ‘teach’ my brother?”
She’s never gonna to let me live this down.
Ansala launched into a grossly exaggerated tale of heroes and villains, but MC cut her off before she could narrate a book.
“Why’s everyone call you Maaagnis, anyway? Emsie’s a way better name! Everyone should just call you that.”
“Y’know what? She’s right!” Nina teased. “Let’s all call him Emsie from now on!”
MC raised his hands in defeat. There was simply no winning against these two. But as much as he enjoyed the banter, a military training ground was no place for either of them.
“I’m sure you can both go all day long, but we’re in the middle of training these troops. Nina, can you take the girl back to her mom?”
“NO! I’m not gonna go back!” the Zevan girl shrieked, glomming back onto MC’s leg.
Sighing, he plucked her and raised her by the scruff of her neck like a puppy.
“Noooo, put me down! No fair!”
He unceremoniously hurled her to Nina, who caught the package flawlessly.
“At least stand off to the side. I can’t have you getting caught in the cross fire.”
His words calmed the little amoeba down somewhat. The two girls shuffled off, eager to watch the show.
MC turned his attention back to Krar, who was trying—and failing spectacularly—to motivate his troops.
“Everyone needs to understand that you are no longer gods and mortals. You are equals. Squadmates who will be looking out for each other’s lives. So go on, introduce yourselves, for you will be spending copious amounts of time in each other’s company from now on.”
The five Resistance Dyn eyed the Zevan armor-clad knights with obvious disdain. The two dozen knights fidgeted nervously. Not one of them attempted to endear themselves with their gods. To make matters worse, the three Zevan mages had their own clique going, standing at attention by themselves, well away from both the knights and the Dyn.
The sweltering humid heat of the crater pit wasn’t helping much either.
Oh yeah. This is going to be great, MC thought. He could picture a million ways this could go horribly wrong.
Krar’s further attempts to get them to work together were met with a similar level of success. Their first drill—a simple hand signal exercise—was abysmal. Neither party even attempted to participate, with the Dyn outright ignoring the signals given by the knights, and the knights prostrating at the signals given by their ‘gods.’
Krar desperately tried to salvage the situation, but while he seemed like a capable leader, the alien orb was simply far too green. A situation like this called more for Nina’s skills than anything the Qephyx could offer.
MC decided he’d seen enough. What these soldiers needed was a drill sergeant, and he was only too happy to fulfill that role. Instead of calling out to them, he just relocated a large volume of lava from the ground nearby, dropping it above them. Not quite over their heads, but close enough that they couldn’t afford to idle about.
The lava poured down from above, dousing the ground in searing heat that threatened to melt the troops’ clothes and burn their armor. Luckily, they moved in a manner befitting battle-hardened veterans.
This wasn’t about incompetence. It was an issue of team dynamics and overcoming stigmas.
“What the hell—”
“You’re dead. You’re dead! If this were a battlefield, you’d all be fucking dead!” MC ridiculed, pointing to Dyn and Zevan alike. “Just how many opportunities did you give the enemy by squabbling with each other? Each and every one of you is the best of the best of your respective militaries. Is this what passes for seasoned veterans on this godforsaken planet? Answer me truthfully. What the fuck are you doing?”
Not a soul dared to respond, but the Resistance fighters’ guilt was plainly obvious.
MC e
ven glimpsed Ansala sighing, shaking her head in disappointment.
Is there any insult greater than being mocked by a child?
They were all capable warriors who knew what was at stake. The problem lay more with the Zevan troops, so he addressed them directly.
“Zevan knights. Are you aware of the stakes here?”
One of the armored knights stepped forward. “Indeed we are, Lord Executor. Empress Xikanika showed us the… changes that the gods have in store for us, but…”
MC raised an eyebrow. “But? And just ‘Executor’ is fine. Or ‘Magnus.’”
“As you wish, Lord Executor. ’Tis all very difficult to believe, is all. The werebeasts have been around for as long as anyone can remember. To think the gods wish to turn Zevan into… It is hard for a Zevan to believe, is all.”
“Well, you’d better believe it. Have you seen one of those mutated Zevan?”
“Yes, Lord Executor. ’Twas a frightful experience, to be sure.”
“Just one? I have witnessed entire armies of those abominations. Slaves to your gods. And when you are butchered by them in the field of battle, when you lie dying in a pool of your own blood, it will be far too late to regret your stupidity!” MC roared.
His audience dared not utter a sound.
“Look, I’m not expecting you to believe everything I’m saying now, and I’m not expecting you to abandon your long-standing beliefs about your gods. All I’m asking is for your cooperation. I could order you to cooperate—that would be within my rights as your new commander—but I’m not going to do that. If for no other reason, do this for yourselves. Once you have served with us, you will be the most elite troops on this entire planet. Your enemies will quiver in their boots at the mere mention of your names!”
That certainly piqued their interest.
Good.
“You may think that as experienced soldiers, further training is beneath you. I am here to tell you that this mindset will get you killed. The mounted tactics you Zevan use work against other Zevan wielding similar weapons in open fields of battle. They will not work against swarms of werebeasts. And they will not work against the Dyn—your gods. But we do have something that does work: modern technology. Modern tactics. But that’s going to require all of you to keep an open mind. To unlearn much of what you have learned, to rebuild your foundations.”
He locked eyes with each one of them, Zevan and Dyn alike.
“Your collective battle experience is invaluable, as is your field experience. All I ask is that you give this a solid chance. Because the enemy is strong. You all know this to be true. Because we are at war and make no mistake—many of you will die. How many depends on how well you perform here.”
He raised his voice. “So tell me! Will you live? Or will you die?”
Surprisingly, it was one of the Resistance fighters who pumped a fist to the air and roared, “Peace through superior firepower!”
The effect was contagious. Before long, the entire platoon of thirty—knights and mages included—cheered with him, having momentarily forgotten their stigmas.
Satisfied with the response, MC stepped back to where Nina and Ansala were standing and assumed a military parade rest. Krar’eaks had far more experience with the Dyn and their tactics, and truthfully, MC had never intended to get involved. Still, he’d be damned if his troops weren’t the best goddamn guerrillas in the history of warfare.
“I dunno, Emsie. They kinda suck.”
Nina snorted.
“Everyone sucks at the beginning, girl. It’s how they improve that will determine their worth.”
Before they actually got to shooting, Krar got the troop’s armor situation sorted. Off went the knights’ heavy plate armor, replaced by advanced Kevlar and ceramics that had been brought out from Sanctuary’s armory, neatly laid out on tables for them.
Unfortunately, while there were more than enough firearms, the same couldn’t be said for the armor. The matter fabricator had been working overtime to crank those out piece-by-piece. It was slow going, and between Sanctuary’s stock and the new pieces, they barely had enough to outfit a single squad at this point. The base could really use more of those technological marvels.
“This armor, does it truly protect anything? It seems far too light! It would not stop an arrow!” one Zevan knight commented.
MC didn’t bother to reply. He drew the rail-driven pistol holstered on his leg and put two nearly silent subsonic rounds straight into the center of the knight’s chest. The Zevan fell over onto his back. The impact left him gasping for air, but neither round penetrated.
“You’ve seen what these weapons do to your shiny steel armor. Need I say more?”
Coughing, the Zevan gasped, “N-no, Lord Executor. I surely thought I would perish.”
MC leaned down to give the soldier a hand, helping him back up.
“Just as steel plate is superior to iron armor, which is, in turn, stronger than leather, this armor is about two dozen technological innovations past that. It’s not magic, just the result of the hard work of brilliant minds over the course of millennia. Appreciate its strengths, understand its weaknesses, and it will serve you well.”
The Dyn all had their own high-tech gear, of course, but the Zevan-types still familiarized themselves with his Earth armors, they even went as far as learning how to handle Sanctuary’s rail guns. That knowledge could very well be the difference between life and death.
Krar and his other instructors walked the Zevan through the basics of Sanctuary’s rifles and their usage. The knights weren’t about to learn the principles behind the weapons, but so long as they knew how to slam in a battery and a magazine, clear malfunctions, and disassemble the rifles, it would be more than enough.
“When do you think he’s going to realize?” Nina asked.
MC sighed. “He’s not.”
One Zevan in particular struggled with disassembling his weapon.
“This blasted boomstick! Useless, I tell you!” he cursed.
Unable to restrain himself, MC snatched the rifle from the Zevan, locked the slide, ejected the mag, disassembled the upper and lower halves, detached the scope, and removed the trigger assembly. All within fifteen seconds. He gave the amoeba a look, then spun on his heel and rejoined the girls.
“Geez, Magnus. They’ll never learn if you do it that fast,” Nina said when he got back.
“Oh, they’ll learn. Whether they like it or not.”
The trainees moved onto weapon manipulation drills next. Krar had the troops practice drawing their weapons from drop-leg holsters, replacing magazines, and clearing malfunctions with plastic dummy rounds. As expected, the Dyn had no issues, though MC was more surprised by how quickly the Zevan picked up the skills. Their many years of diligent practice was evident, even if they weren’t entirely sold on the exercises.
“What use is there in learning about these heaps of metal? Give me a good crossbow any day!”
Those who had seen MC shoot the knight from earlier backed away, fearing a repeat of that lesson.
“Mind lending me your weapon for a sec, bud?”
The knight did as he was asked, happy to be free of the “dead weight.” MC walked to a nearby table and jammed a sixty-round magazine full of armor-penetrating rounds. The battery-powered weapon hummed to life at the flip of its power switch. Red lights activated for a split second before turning green and shutting off, indicating that the rifle was ready for use.
“Plug your ears, unless you feel like going deaf today!” MC commanded as he formed an energy dampener bubble around his own head. He then relocated a chair-sized rock a dozen yards in front of them, thumbed the fire selector to full-auto, and held the trigger down. Unlike their more primitive predecessors, these particular rail guns almost completely eliminated recoil, allowing for accurate, sustained fire.
Round after hypersonic round erupted from the rifle’s muzzle in a deafening cacophony of supersonic death. The rounds drilled right through the hard ro
ck. By the time the bolt clicked empty, the rock resembled Swiss cheese. Shredded Swiss cheese.
MC thumbed the safety, cleared the weapon, ejected the magazine, and threw the rifle back at the Zevan knight who had fallen on his ass in shock.
“So. Still want that spear?”
The knight shook his head in awe.
“Didn’t think so.”
MC raised his voice to address the trainees. “There’s a damned good reason we use these things. They may be more complex than your crossbows, but these weapons are easy to use and are far deadlier than anything you have ever seen. I suggest you learn them well. But if you do need something for close-range melee, hit up our armorer. He’ll get you kitted out with some nanomachine-enhanced blades.”
When the knight failed to respond, MC followed up. “You’re used to your swords being blunt weapons, right? Just think of how effective they’d be if they were sharp enough to cleave through any armor, and stayed sharp forever?”
“Thank you, Lord Executor, sir. I shall not question the magic of the gods again!”
“Sufficiently advanced technology is indisting—ah, fuck it. Never mind.” He shook his head in exasperation as he walked back to the sidelines.
“Might as well be magic to them, bro.”
“Looked like magic to me.” Ansala nodded approvingly.
Weapon manipulation was followed by dry-fire exercises to give everyone the feel of the holographic sights and tritium-enhanced rifle scopes without actually slinging rounds downrange. Draw, aim, fire. Draw, aim, fire. Several hundred repetitions later, both MC and Krar deemed them ready for the real deal.
Targets had been placed along the base of the crater rim a hundred yards out, separated from the trainees by a field of molten lava. The targets weren’t anything fancy—just some holo projectors that simulated enemies against the rocky walls, repeated across two dozen lanes.