It seemed as though the answer to that question was “dodge”.

  So, he dodged left, right, up, down, back, up again, then to the left. It wasn’t anything too taxing, nor would the arrows fired by the army’s archers likely hurt him if they hit. But they would still likely put holes in his clothing if they hit. Hence the dodging.

  He could have just used any number of his Skills to block the projectiles, let alone any of his Powers. However, he found it more amusing to watch the commanders grow increasingly pale as they watched him dodge their volleys of arrows. Heck, even the archers themselves seemed to be questioning their life choices as they watched him easily avoid their attacks.

  From where he was, Joram couldn’t exactly hear what the commander said next, but it must have been along the lines of “Stop firing. Get the [Mages]”, or some such. For moments later, some stereotypically robed figures approached the front lines, though they stayed behind the shield wall that had formed when he’d first approached the army.

  Curious about what would come next, he activated [Mana Sight] and watched as those robed figures gathered their mana as they shaped their spells. Or were they just Skills? He shrugged, not really caring about the difference, if there was indeed one to be had.

  He could see, though, that they were a diverse lot. He spotted ice, fire, electricity- er, lightning, water, and wind. Once they’d primed their attacks, another order was barked out before they all let their attacks fly.

  He idly wondered if he should just cancel-out their attacks with his various Kinesis Skills, for he could surely use the practice. Actual combat practice!

  Instead, he chose to just use [Telekinesis] to create a large and slightly concave wall of force in front of him, spanning a good fifty metres wide and twenty tall. The impacts weren’t nearly as powerful as he’d thought they’d be, confirming for him that perhaps he was just as broken as he suspected himself to be. Well, his Classes, anyways.

  Looking through the dispersing elemental attacks, Joram noted that the commanders were certainly less than impressed with the results of that magical volley. He could practically see their blood pressure rising to precarious heights as they called for another volley. Well, he assumed that what they’d ordered, for a few seconds later another volley came. This time, however, the [Mages]- or whatever Class they were- seemed to have packed in as much mana as they could into their spells.

  Joram appreciated the magical light show, then the magical fireworks as the spells impacted his barrier. The shattered spells were certainly a sight to behold, making him wonder if he should do something similar for New Years’ Eve.

  ”Do they celebrate New Years’ Eve here?” He wondered out loud as the commanders of the army seemed to lose their patience.

  It wasn’t too far away, just over five hundred metres or so. So, he could see their faces turning various shades of red and even purple. Heck, the veins in their necks and faces were bulging out so much he could even see those as they throbbed in time with their overworked hearts.

  “Maybe healthy lifestyles and physical fitness isn’t a thing here?” He wondered out loud, subconsciously taking a liking to voicing his thoughts. “Maybe they’re just lazy nobles? Calisthenics shouldn’t be ignored, no matter your job,” he muttered, shaking his head as yet another volley came and shattered on his barrier.

  Noticing that it was actually depleting slightly, Joram topped-up the mana in the barrier with a thought before once more turning his attention back to the army.

  He’d wanted to see if he could talk things out with them, but it seemed as though they’d both recognized him and had an irreconcilable grudge with him. Which, really, shouldn’t have been a surprise given that they were reportedly from the capitol, led by various once-upon-a-time nobles. But, given just how little most of that army seemed to want to be there, he felt more than a little reluctant to just annihilate them all.

  Joram: Hey, do we have a lock on the leaders of this army yet?

  Aegis: Just give me another minute or two….

  Joram nodded, glad that there was a possibility of just taking out the leaders without having to eradicate reluctant soldiers.

  Four more volleys came before Aegis reported that all targets had been acquired, mere moments after he’d decided that he would certainly put on a fireworks display for everyone this New Years’ Eve. Now oddly grateful to the idiots who led the rebel army, Joram used [Telekinesis] again, this time forming a large cone. He then used [Aerokinesis] on the inside of the cone, making a sort of amplification zone that would effectively turn the thing into a megaphone.

  “Ahem,” he cleared his throat, then blinked at just how loud it had been. “To the rebel army. I, Duke Joram Smith, command you to lay down your arms and surrender. Anyone who refuses to comply will face immediate judgement,” he said, hoping that he’d sounded professional enough.

  Watching their reactions, he got the impression that perhaps he’d been moderately successful. He then recalled just how high his Charisma was, and shrugged. If it was anything like how video games did things, he was sure that his crazy Stat had done most of the heavy lifting.

  He watched as the front ranks immediately dropped their shields and spears, then as the archers dropped their bows. The [Mage]s seemed to be made of slightly sterner stuff, though. They merely stopped channelling their mana. The various commanders, however, looked as though they’d swallowed lemons. Whole lemons that they were now choking on as they began shouting at their army to do this or that.

  Some people who looked as though they could be personal retainers gathered around the commanders. Even as they gathered, he could see that most were still reluctant. Then, as the commanders seemed to be regaining control of their army, Joram gave Aegis the go-ahead.

  He’d never witnessed an orbital strike. Sure, he’d seen movies, or really good pre-rendered clips in video games. But, nothing could prepare you for what it looked like in real life. Upon reflection, he should have prepared some really good sunglasses or something, for the pillars of light that fell from the sky were both incredibly powerful and eye-searingly bright.

  Now, he said “fell”, but the columns of energy were so fast that even to his eyes, they appeared to just, well, suddenly appear. The results? M11 used [Regenerate] to keep him from going blind while bodies hit by- what he assumed to be- phasers, instantly disintegrated before boring a hole into the ground.

  The shots didn’t last more than half a second, but they had certainly left an impression. Screams of fear, confusion, and pain abounded. Of the commanders, nothing remained, not even their various mounts. What shocked him more than a little was the sight of the personal guards all falling to the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Before he could think of a solution, they quickly stopped moving, though they mostly went unnoticed amongst the chaos that followed.

  Before it could get too bad, he spoke through his megaphone again.

  “I repeat: surrender or face immediate judgement.”

  He watched as his words registered in their panicked minds. The infantry immediately dropped to the ground, begging for mercy, soon followed by the archers, then the cavalry. Well, the cavalry took a bit longer due to having to calm their mounts, but they did eventually follow suit. The [Mage]s, however seemed petrified.

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  They hadn’t moved since the orbital strike. Some still stood, though a good number of them had fallen over. From what he could see, they looked shellshocked. He shrugged. Better that than dead. Especially since he had [Cure: Panacea], something his old world would have greatly benefited from.

  He looked up at the sky, noting that it wasn’t quite noon yet. If he could get them to break camp, maybe he could get them most of the way to Kirkwall before evening….

  Nodding, he let his barrier drop and started walking over to the surrendering army.

  * * *

  “What…” Bryana had to pause to wet her throat before she could speak again. “What was that?” she asked, hoping that she didn’t sound nearly as strangled as she thought she sounded.

  Her [Diviner]s took a moment to collect themselves, obviously as shaken as she’d been by the astonishing display of casual ultraviolence.

  “We… we don’t know,” one said, their name having been forgotten due to her lingering shock.

  She looked over to Brittany, her Royal Secretary, and saw that her best friend had also been profoundly affected by the [Tactical] Grade magic projected by the [Diviner]s on a large screen hanging in the air in front of them.

  Brittany wet her lips, then took another few moments to finally speak.

  “I’m glad he’s one of us,” she said, not sounding nearly as certain of her words as Bryana would have liked.

  “Are we certain that he’s with us?” [Grand General] Karstar asked, sounding as stoic as he usually did, providing her with some much-needed stability. “If he can do that, what’s to stop him if he should decide to expand his area of influence?”

  Bryana wanted to immediately defend Joram, but stopped herself. She needed to be impartial, no matter her personal feelings. Her [Grand General] was merely doing his job: assessing potential threats to the Crown and Queendom.

  “Wren?” she asked, turning to her [Spymaster] for her opinion.

  Her [Spymaster] took a few moments to reply, sounding oddly… distant?

  “Given what we’ve been able to observe, Duke Smith is more than capable of conquering any country that he sets his eyes on.”

  [Grand General] Karstar snorted his disbelief, managing to move his large moustache with the exhalation of air.

  “Just because he can use some [Tactical] Grade magic doesn’t mean that we can’t stop him,” he asserted, folding his large arms across his barrel chest. “We have our own [Archmage] and many [Grand Magus]es.”

  Bryana nodded, knowing full-well that her queendom had enough military power to easily defend itself from other countries. But thinking back to how Joram had easily defeated so many high level foes, she began to wonder. Wonder if she really knew Joram. Wonder if he really was an [Elder Dragon] in disguise. Wonder just who it was that was backing him, for they hadn’t detected any casting from Joram aside from his use of [Telekinesis] to easily deal with a magical barrage that would have seriously damaged the walls of her capitol.

  “It’s not just that,” Wren went on, shaking her head slightly. “He builds entire ‘apartment buildings’ taller than any tower I’ve seen in mere hours. We know that Ina’Vaxchisa’Erys, an [Elder Dragon] and [Dimensional Guardian] is, at the very least, subservient to him. Given observations, it’s highly likely that she’s chosen him as a mate. Given the lack of precedence, it his highly unlikely that Joram Smith is a dragon himself,” Wren finished with a shrug.

  “But there’s no evidence that he is a dragon,” Bryana said, her denial sounding feeble even to her own ears.

  “With how much circumstantial evidence there is, it’s either he’s a dragon in disguise, or the [Demon Lord] in disguise,” General Karstar rumbled wryly. “The question is: will he remain loyal to the Crown?”

  The all let that question sink in.

  If Joram could so easily deal with a small army that would have caused even her a small headache, what else could he do? Given that new [Tactical] Grade magic he’d displayed, what damage could he do if he turned it against them? He’d been roughly a third of a mile away from that army when the attack struck. Was that as far as he could use it? Or did it have an even greater range? Could it target more than twenty people at once?

  Did dividing the strike amongst so many targets reduce its damage? Or was it one of those spells that always did a set amount of damage, no matter the number of targets? She’d known those rebels. They had all been close to Level 30, almost A Rank in power. That they’d died without leaving a trace behind was telling.

  Then, before her speculations could lead her further astray, she felt one of her rings go cold, indicating a spatial event. Before she could glance to the projection again to make sure that Joram was still there, a letter appeared in the air in front of her, then promptly fell to her feet.

  Her guards reacted immediately, using their Skills to create layers of wards around the letter as one of the [Diviner]s began casting new divinations. As they worked, Bryana visually inspected the letter.

  “Say,” she started, startling everyone in the room. “Does that look like the same high-quality paper that Duke Smith is known to use?” she asked, making Brittany, who stood at her side, blink.

  “It does…” Brittany said, not sounding very sure of herself. Or perhaps, not sure of what that letter represented, or meant.

  Another three minutes passed before the letter was declared “safe” to approach. But before she could reach down to pick it up, Brittany beat her to it.

  Suppressing her annoyance, she allowed her Royal Secretary to basically do her job. Another minute passed before Brittany looked up again, her expression unreadable. She then offered the letter to her, making Bryana blink in surprise. Normally, Brittany would just tell her what was written, usually paraphrasing the contents of a correspondence.

  Now even more curious, Bryana took the letter and blinked again at what was written.

  Dear Bryana vas Muryn,

  I have taken care of the rebels. The majority of them surrendered after their leadership was removed from the board. What would you like me to do with them?

  Sincerely,

  Duke Joram Smith

  That was it.

  Having grown used to overly-long and wordy correspondences, she was almost offended by just how to the point the letter was. But, reflecting on the writer, she really shouldn’t have been surprised in the least.

  She looked back at the large screen still showing Joram and the rebels. He was now pointing to people and ordering them about, seemingly readying them to march. She looked over to General Karstar and saw that he was also studying the scene.

  Captured soldiers were usually ransomed back to their kingdoms. That they were her own people threw her for a loop. What was the protocol for that?

  “General,” she said, passing the letter to an attendant who then brought it to the general. “Your thoughts?”

  He only took a few moments to read it before answering.

  “He is, at the very least, decisive,” he chuckled. “I’m not of a mind to take that lot back into the royal army. He can keep them for all I care.”

  Bryana blinked at that, barely keeping the astonishment from her face. Nearly five thousand troops, let alone the [Mage]s, wasn’t an insignificant resource. That the general would so easily discard them was, quite honestly, out of character for him. Even if they’d been a rebel force.

  “Why?” she asked simply, knowing that he would explain if asked directly.

  “Once someone goes turncoat, they’ll likely do so again if pressed. With how much those rats have eroded the stability of the queendom, I’ll not trust them to stay quiet. Especially if they’re nearer to people they know.”

  Bryana nodded, understanding the reasoning behind his decision. Still, it wasn’t uncommon to send such people to more remote areas where political influence and resources were scarce. Though, thinking about it more, if they were sent somewhere far enough away, the same situation might repeat itself. Possibly with a poorer outcome.

  So, she dictated her response to Joram’s enquiry, letting him know that he could do what he wanted with the surrendered army. Then, as a [Mage] cooperated with a [Diviner] to [Teleport] the response back to him, she wondered what his reaction would be.

  * * *

  “Son of a bitch,” Joram cursed in english after having read Bryana’s quick prompt to his letter.

  He’d been hoping that she’d send someone to collect the small army. Now he was responsible for an extra five thousand some-odd souls to feed and shelter. Not just that, but since Lord Nord had participated in the ridiculousness, she’d even handed over his barony to him. He wondered if he’d need to head over there to consolidate things any time soon….

  Now in a significantly worse mood than he’d been in, Joram barked his orders for the army to hurry up with breaking camp. He then gave instructions to head to Kirkwall, then to pass south of the town before continuing on west along the road they’d find on the other side of Kirkwall. He also told them that if they deviated from his instructions, that he’d be more than happy to just wipe them all out. Just like he’d do to anyone thinking that they could slip away during the march.

  With that done, and a somewhat stunned impromptu commander staring at him as though he was an insane dragon, Joram used [Spatial Manipulation] to teleport back to his office. Now that his “territory” now included the one-time lands of Lord Nord, he wondered if [Bastion of Civilization] would immediately start working, or if he’d need to “sleep” first. Like levelling up in a game. You could get a new ability, but it would only take effect after resting.

  He shrugged that thought away. It wasn’t entirely relevant, nor did it really matter. Anyone in his territory would be affected by his Achievement….

  Then he started wondering if that applied to the various ghosts and spirits in the Great Forest. Did it only apply to sapient beings? Did sentient beings count? Did it affect Monsters?

  He somewhat doubted the last one, though. But if it did apply to sentient beings and up, then perhaps he would wind up having a rather entertaining and useful new resource to tap.

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