Aces High (Reality Benders Book #6) LitRPG Series

by Michael Atamanov

  Mac-Peu turned and pointed a hand at the long rows of dust-covered army trucks:

  “This morning five thousand troops arrived from the Chinese H1 Faction. However, their level is obviously a bit weak, and some are just day-three beginners, level twenty. And that makes me wonder whether I should just send them back. In any case, they won’t be much help in a real battle. If we keep only those over level sixty, that leaves us with just two thousand one hundred Chinese players.”

  I asked my advisor not to be too hasty rejecting the low-level recruits, and first to give me an estimate for how many soldiers we were expecting to join the army of Earth in the first wave. The Mage Diviner answered immediately, clearly having all the numbers in his head:

  “We expect forty-two thousand seven hundred thirty players meeting our stated requirements from the factions that have agreed. We’ll probably end up with more in the end — the factions are growing every day, so there are more soldiers that meet the level requirements all the time. Plus as I already said, the Terrestrial Coalition hasn’t responded yet. And they are made up of powerful factions numbering over seventy thousand players in total. Although... even if those factions refuse, we can find plenty of recruits without them.”

  I already had no doubt in our plan to recruit the first wave. But still I wanted to give a chance to the so-called “Terrestrial Coalition” not break with the other factions of both worlds. And if this “Coalition” did not give us a positive answer within thirteen hours, I would have to visit them in person and have a very serious talk with their leaders.

  Chapter Twenty-Five. Shock Is How We Do Things!

  SUCH A MASSIVE backlog of diplomatic, administrative and housekeeping issues had amassed during my absence! Beneath a hastily assembled pole and straw canopy, I was talking with my Chief Advisor Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi and my faction Diplomat Leng Thomas Müller, who had also come to the training camp. This was the first time I’d gotten the chance to meet personally with the former head of the Human-6 Faction and I must note that the high-profile German player made a very positive impression. A professional with a capital “P,” he had acquired a wealth of knowledge in all kinds of fields of science and politics. He was generally intelligent and delicate but, when the need arose, he could turn extremely harsh in an instant, standing up for the interests of German players and our faction as a whole. It was very fortunate indeed that, when uniting our factions, we were able to maintain his high status — Leng Thomas could provide dignified representation at negotiations of any level.

  A section of road ran past our pavilion, and thousands of soldiers of the fledgling army of Earth jogged past on it carrying heavy baskets of rocks on their shoulders under the watchful eye of their instructors. It just so happened to be a steep rise, and the sweaty soldiers were crawling at a snail’s pace, just barely able to move their legs. But still they were trying to smile and put on a bold face. The leader of my boarding team Gerd T’yu-Pan had announced that the best of the best would be accepted into Team Gnat, and that strongly encouraged the thousands of training troops. My crew was considered something of a military elite here, and every single soldier dreamed of entering its ranks.

  Then a Chinese girl, a level-72 Medic, made a false step and fell on her way up, collapsing under the heft of the rocks and rolling down to the base of the hill. Gerd Nelly Svistunova of the First Legion, standing nearby and today playing the role of one of the fifty instructors, quickly leapt over to help. But she was stopped by a sharp cry over radio from the attentively observing Fox:

  “Instructor 34, stand down! The Medic still has Endurance Points, she can get up on her own! Furthermore, her Strength just went up. Add a few more stones to her basket!”

  I didn’t know how Fox was doing it, but the Morphian had split into at least a dozen copies and was present in several places at once, keeping a watchful eye on all the thousands of training soldiers at once and stepping in wherever and whenever necessary. The wise Vaa once told me that Morphians were capable of splitting and creating copies to distract an opponent. However, all the copies of false Ayni were fully-fledged individuals that could act independently.

  Fox’s authority in the training camp was unquestioned. Especially when the instructor showed that she could take down any of the trainees, survive even a submachine gun burst to the chest, wouldn’t forgive even a hint of disobedience and treated rulebreakers as harshly as could be imagined. The row of human skulls and one Miyelonian one (my ward Tini once got the bright idea that he deserved an indulgence) up on the stockade fence near the canteen served a clear reminder of what arguing with Fox could get you.

  Then Gerd Imran the Gladiator, who was exercising just as hard as everyone else, caught up to the Chinese girl having a hard time going up the hill. He grabbed her with one hand by the jacket and put her on her feet in one sharp burst then immediately continued running. My Dagestani friend had told me a few days ago that his Fame was getting very close to twenty-five, so the fact he had achieved Gerd rank came as no surprise. After the promotion, which actually came during this training session, and spending his additional statistic points, Fox demanded he put more stones into his basket. And he did so eagerly. But despite the Gladiator’s brave face, I could sense just how hard a time the Dagestani athlete was having. Regardless, Gerd Imran would sooner die than allow anyone to question his right to serve as Gnat’s personal bodyguard.

  Only three people were not taking part in the training: me, Leng Thomas Müller the Diplomat, and Chief Advisor Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi. The three of us were busy doing something of equal importance: after laying out a detailed map of the virtual world on a rickety table, we were discussing plans for the future of our shared faction.

  “A group of scouts reported that the only thing on the eastern shore of the bay past our southernmost node is solid impassable forest filled with NPC Centaurs and Dryads. If we hurry and stop our Human-3 neighbors from making a play for the south, we could take the whole peninsula for ourselves. And that would give us a whole twenty-three hexagons.”

  MY CHIEF ADVISOR POINTED on the map, penciling a circle around the long, forested peninsula extending far into the sea then went silent, awaiting my reaction. I agreed eagerly:

  “Yes, I have conferred with Leng Tarasov and we agreed where to expand so there wouldn’t be any conflicts. His faction will be expanding to the east, beyond the swamps,” I pointed to the hills three nodes beyond the Eastern Swamp, “that is where the Human-3 Faction will be building the second planetary shield generator. And beyond those swamps is also where Human-3 will start building an industrial cluster made up of a few neighboring nodes. The Human-3 Faction will make no claim on the nodes south of the Yellow Mountains for the time being, and we can indeed take them. However, either Leng Thomas or I will have to speak with Centaur mare Leng Phylira, so we don’t run into problems with the NPC Antiquity Faction. If the mare gives her consent, we will bring Sio-Mi-Dori antigravs and construction brigades to all twenty-three nodes, build forts at an accelerated pace and, in three days’ time, the whole peninsula will be ours.”

  Gerd Mac-Peu took down a note in his tablet, then made a peevish remark:

  “Twenty-three brigades, each thirty people minimum, and ideally forty, all of construction professions. Plus we’ll need security to protect against aggressive NPC predators... Where are we gonna get that many players, Coruler? Should we take them off the planetary shield construction? Or bring builders back from the big continent? There are seven whole groups there with enhanced security. Six hundred people in total.”

  “No, no, the shield is our main priority. And there’s no need to bring players back halfway around the globe. It’s only a matter of time until we need our springboard to the other continent again.”

  I considered it. It really was a problem. Relict was theoretically a big faction, but we had a severe lack of spare workers. We already needed thousands of players for the plants, factories, mines, science laboratories, and fields we already had and
were planning, plus simply for maintaining roads and other infrastructure. Add to that the three enormous building projects we were undertaking at the same time: the planetary shield generator, the seaport, and the nascent thermonuclear power station. We were also establishing a base on the opposite side of the virtual Earth. And the cherry on top was that damned Geckho draft, which had taken a whole six thousand players from our ranks!

  Seeing that the people in front of me were expecting their faction leader to comment, I suggested we replace some of the construction workers for the new bases with hired NPC’s. If we didn’t bring in the natives of these flooded impassable jungles, building everything we wanted would be a technical impossibility. Even getting construction resources was extremely difficult due to the lack of decent roads so, one way or another, we’d have to hire the centaurs and minotaurs to lay down some semblance of roadways.

  “That will bring up the timeframe,” my Chief Advisor cautioned. “No matter how you look at it, primitive NPC’s are far from professional construction workers. And we’ll have to postpone expansion to the north and on the western side of the bay. At the very least until we finish constructing the bases to the south and can redeploy the freed-up players elsewhere.”

  “Quite so, but there is currently just one desert node separating the Relict and Human-1 Factions,” Leng Thomas pointed to the grayish yellow hexagon. “And crucially, our geologists have determined that there are natural gas reserves in that node, the size of which they are now estimating. We have also detected Chinese scout groups in that node with geologists among them.”

  The Mage Diviner shuddered and opened his tablet, comparing it with some notes:

  “We need gas. We do not yet have access to any. Our petrochemical plants partially make up for that, but the key word there is ‘partially.’ And make no mistake, the H1 Faction is already aware of the natural gas as well. Coruler, shall we concentrate on capturing that node to snatch the gas deposits before the Chinese can get there?”

  Both of them looked expectantly at me, awaiting their faction leader’s decision. I meanwhile drummed my fingers on the tabletop in thought. I didn’t want to have a dispute with the Chinese faction. So far, we had even-keeled good-neighborly relations and the fact they had sent a whole five thousand troops when I requested (given the Chinese faction as a whole numbered just eleven thousand players) spoke to a desire to actively help and take part in joint operations. I took another glance at the map and turned to look at the Diplomat:

  “We need to have a talk with the Human-1 Faction and be totally open. Both of us need the gas, and I would be completely amenable to extracting it together. The question of who gets the claim to the node does of course matter, but its importance is secondary. I would even be willing to offer...” here I fell into deep contemplation, thinking through the potential consequences of this step. Then I turned to the Mage Diviner and asked, “what is the probability we could be united in an alliance, or even one single faction?”

  Gerd Mac-Peu fell silent, then shook his head:

  “Coruler, they will not agree to uniting into a single faction. But as for a military and political alliance, that could be possible but not now. In a month and a half, or more likely two. For the time being, they don’t trust us quite that much. At any rate, their level of trust is growing fast. And if we can prove that we are powerful and trustworthy, an alliance would be possible. But there is one little nuance...” The experienced diviner gave a signal to the Diplomat, and Leng Thomas Müller picked up the thread of the conversation:

  “The Human-1 Faction has a border dispute over some islands in the ocean with the Human-2 Faction, which is the UK. There have even been sea battles and amphibious assaults by both parties in order to eliminate their competitor’s claim. The disputed territories are currently neutral — islands are just too tough to hold in the game. If we were to support our neighbors, H1 would become more loyal to us. However though, that would spoil our relations with the H2 Faction, which is already part of the Terrestrial Coalition. And that would be disastrous for our dealings with the whole family of Terrestrial Coalition factions.”

  Based on my Diplomat’s concerned tone, I could already tell that Leng Thomas himself didn’t like the idea of interfering in that conflict. And I was in complete solidarity with him there. Getting in the middle of a turf war was never a super sensible idea, especially when you have a wide array of labor intensive projects requiring thousands of players, and another war you’ll have to send the bulk of your soldiers to sooner rather than later.

  I didn’t answer fast enough. A quickly crescendoing alarm siren interrupted us. I shot to my feet and saw a group of figure-eight aircraft far on the horizon but quickly approaching from the direction of the space port. Seven... No, eight tiltrotors or helicopters of an extremely unusual design. I lowered the IR Lens over my eye and read the information about the flying objects:

  Sio-Titi-Ru. La-Varrez Faction Heavy Cargo Tiltrotor.

  La-Varrez? I had very strained relations with the former head of that faction. The great Archmage and Coruler of Humanity Onuri-Unta La-Varrez had even tried to get me deposed. Unsuccessfully, for the record, and he himself had died in the explosion of the Palace of Rulers along with a large contingent of the most powerful sorcerers of the magocratic world. Who now headed that most ancient dynasty of mage rulers, I had to admit, I did not know.

  What is happening? Are my enemies attacking the training camps for the army of Earth, which is being mustered on orders from our Geckho rulers? Not likely. That would after all be nothing short of suicide — the Geckho would never forgive such a thing from their vassals. And on top of that, despite all our differences of opinion, our Directories were not at war in the real world, nor were our factions here in the game. Furthermore, behind those tiltrotors were a whole thirty Sio-Mi-Dori assault-landing antigravs, and their laser cannons were not aimed our way.

  Eagle Eye skill increased to level one hundred one!

  Then the aircraft landed on a patch of barren ground, throwing up clouds of dust. And troops from the magocratic world started piling out of the tiltrotor wearing infantry packs and holstered weaponry. Seemingly, it was not at all like I feared and was in fact wonderful news — the La-Varrez Faction had sent its players to join the united army of humanity! By the way, there were also La-Varrez Faction players piling out of my antigravs — they must have asked if we could bring them from the training camps from the spaceport and given assurances they came in peace in the presence of the Geckho Diplomat.

  And just then I saw one of the newly arrived commanders — a young man stepped with dignity out of one of the tiltrotors dressed in the traditional robes of the highest mage rulers:

  Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez. Human. La-Varrez Faction. Level-104 Telekinetic Mage.

  Well, well! A Leng, the faction head himself! A truly special guest.

  “Coruler, the new head of the La-Varrez dynasty has not yet been officially confirmed,” my Chief Advisor whispered to me, quite familiar with the state of affairs in his world. “First of all, the official mourning period for the late Coruler Archmage Onuri-Unta is still ongoing. Second, your spouse Princess Minn-O and you still have yet to confirm the composition of the Ruling Council. And dynasty heads are not considered ‘true’ rulers until they’ve been officially inducted into the council. And third, there are other claimants to the role of dynasty head other than young Sap-Po. They are currently in the middle of a vicious power struggle. The antimage uprising is having an effect as well.”

  There it is! The situation was coming together very favorably, and I could play on that. While my distinguished guest assembled his retinue from the various vehicles they’d arrived in, and before he had spotted me, I called over the closest of the Fox copies. I mentally told the Morphian that the time had come for her to play the role I had actually summoned her to play. We had already gone over all the details of the form I required back when we discussed her work and pay. Furthermore, Fox had seen t
his human in person when visiting Earth the last time. A moment later, the entity standing behind me had transformed into Tamara the girl paladin dressed in a modest frock, right down to her totally unexpressive face and dark eyes that pierce a person straight through.

  “Good, Fox. But Tamara is now a Leng, not a Gerd. And bring up her level in the description, let’s say to one twenty,” I gave the Morphian some adjustments and she instantly took my wishes into account.

  Accompanied by senior officers, mages of varying specializations and Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh, the new head of the La-Varrez Faction came walking in my direction. I meanwhile already had a no less respectable retinue in formation behind me. Ten officers and mages headed by Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi. My personal bodyguard Gerd Imran. My personal assistant the Miyelonian Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu (the real one). A bearded, brutish level-80 Priest wearing a habit and holding an incense burner (a very reasonable precaution when dealing with mages, while your Paladin is no Paladin at all). And at my right hand... drumroll please... the leader of the antimage uprising Leng Tamara the Paladin!!!

  Chapter Twenty-Six. An Offer that Cannot be Refused

  EVERYTHING OUR GUEST had been preparing to say flew right out of his head. He just cracked open his mouth in surprise, then closed it and squeezed out indignantly through tightly pursed lips:

  “I hope, Coruler Leng Gnat La-Fin, that you can explain that monster’s presence in your retinue.”

  He was speaking the language of the magocratic world and, thus, not everyone present could understand him. Nevertheless, I gave a happy chuckle, satisfied with the effect I’d produced. I replied in the same language, changing out my Null Ring for the +3 Intelligence one as I did:

  “First of all, esteemed Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez, I am no longer a Leng, but a Kung — a ‘leader of many divisions’ in the nomenclature of the game that bends reality. The heads of Earth’s factions trust me to command their troops, and some have gone so far as to swear fealty to or even join my Relict Faction.”