When we came down from the wall, Sabimbi, Mason, and their team were waiting for us, wearing their distinctive green berets. With his usual raspy voice, Sabimbi greeted us.
—Good morning, General.
—Good morning, Sabimbi, —I replied.
—You can trust me to take care of the city while you're gone.
—Needless to say, I know I can trust you, Sabimbi.
—I hope we have time to really sit down and talk.
—I'm clearing my mind, Sabimbi. I'm leaving this place in your hands, even if I don't return.
Sabimbi nodded, I waved my hand, and the boys turned to leave.
Ashley handed me a Colt 1911 with three magazines, and I accepted it as we walked.
"Ashley, where did you get your knack for bureaucracy?" I asked.
Everyone except Mason looked to listen for the answer.
—When I left the concentration camps, I was adopted by a governor who was in charge of cleaning up the mess in the cities that were recovering.
"How convenient!" I said.
—He looked after me like a father, I'm worried that something is happening to him since I'm missing.
"We're sorry we dragged you into this," Rango said.
—Regardless of this war, it's not like I have a way to return home.
—Likewise, although in my case there is no one alive who can personally care for me.
"Why?" Mason asked, interested.
"You're a closet gossip," Grayson mocked.
Mason glared at him. We all burst out laughing.
"I was prepared to attack my own government. They had sustained the economy by creating a black market. I had to put an end to that, at least I had a moral obligation, but someone betrayed me and information about my preparations leaked, causing a surprise assault on my base with superior forces." I was interrupted.
"We know that bit, you told it before," Doc interrupted.
"He means he had no one else but his friends in the army and his troops," Mason added.
I nodded.
"And your family?" Doc asked.
"My entire family were soldiers. I barely have any memories of my grandparents; they died when they were very young. My uncles died in trench warfare like dogs. I only had two cousins, and they died on the Rhine front. My parents were missing in action defending England's last city," I replied.
"What exactly was the war you won like?" Grayson asked.
—It's difficult to explain my strategies without a map of my world in hand, but to try to explain, my world had fallen to a single adversary in 14 years—no one on any continent could win the fight, and in America, my continent, they endured around eight years of continuous fighting, trench warfare, and guerrilla warfare. Although the countries were poor, their soldiers fought with inhuman bravery; they ran out of bullets and used machetes; but they wouldn't allow their families to fall into the wrong hands. Trench warfare, known for its hostility, the kingdom of rats and shrapnel, where mud is part of your skin and death whispers in your ears constantly, the countries of the center and south of the continent adopted it and fought like never before.
"It was called Latin America," Ashley added to my answer.
—They used the terrain to their advantage, and they looked like war gods in combat. For years I studied their combat styles and strategies; they were the only ones who had lasted that long; even Vietnam lost after four years. Their training regimen was cruel and merciless; they prepared their soldiers for something worse than the battlefield. Once they gained veteran status, they didn't even need an incredible logistics system. When the enemy army set foot on their territory, they hunted them down one by one; siege cannons were just another day for them; they were always prepared for those attacks. At one point, their veteran army had reached horrendous numbers.
"The most fun part was the economics," Ashley commented.
"Why?" Grayson asked.
"They always had a shitty economy, their devalued currency or expensive food was never a real problem," Ashley replied.
—That literally allowed them to have an army they paid in crumbs of bread, and even with those, the bastards fought with everything they had. When everyone else fell, only their continent remained. The northern countries had serious problems defending themselves effectively, while they continued to hold on, no matter what crusades you launched, no matter what elite armies they launched, the Latins ate them up in the afternoon, forged with a mentality of steel and values of gold, they never gave up territory. If I hadn't appeared, they would have continued fighting in mud and blood, without a problem.
"Their problem was that without the northern countries, they didn't have many opportunities to defend themselves against nuclear weapons," Ashley added.
"Why would nuclear weapons be a problem?" Doc asked.
"What does radiation do to you?" I asked.
Something told me that for these guys radiation wasn't a serious problem.
"Radiation simply makes us sleepy and gives us a state of happiness, as if we were on drugs," Dr.
Ashley and I looked at each other and raised an eyebrow.
"For us, radiation is extremely toxic, not to mention that nuclear weapons are extremely powerful. If we detonate it in the air, that will only slow down the problem. The radiation would kill us in a matter of hours; our cells would die, our DNA would mutate, and even if we could escape, our lifespan would be drastically affected," I replied.
"Oh, that's dangerous then!" Doc replied.
—I faced that scenario. I trained my men even harder than the Latin American countries did. My strategy was simple. I attacked the islands around the continent that were used for supply lines, giving my country air to breathe. I attacked Alaska, which gave me quick access to Europe, causing severe damage to installations all around Northern Europe. While the Allied armies built up battlefronts and gained territory thanks to our attacks, the time came for me to fight on the front lines, where I had to multiply my army. There, my job was to break through the front lines and carry out surgical strikes. Having such superiority on the battlefield with an elite, veteran army, they began to hunt me directly. I had to carry out incredible city defenses while carrying out skirmishes to weaken the enemy. There came a point where they no longer had anything to hunt me effectively, and at that point, I just had to fragment and advance without looking back. Latin Americans historically held trench lines; that would be a decent summary. —I finished explaining.
—It sounds more complicated than what you're doing now, —Rango mentioned.
"That's why, unlike all the generals, he's not afraid to fight in this," Ashley answered arrogantly for me.
"However, I have things here I've never dealt with before, like being a leader of civilians and magic," I replied.
"At least we have hope, a chance," Grayson said.
"How long until we get there?" Rango asked.
"Three and a half hours," Ashley replied.
"So, what about you?" Grayson asked, referring to Jane.
"My name is Jane Drangleic, that's all you'll ever know about me," Jane replied coldly.
"Won't you even tell us what's making you join this war?" Grayson asked again.
"I want to kill the fire god." Jane's voice was extremely dry and cutting.
"Will you share the reason with us?" Grayson insisted again.
-No.
"Wow, what a rich conversation." Grayson laughed.
"I would have liked Azumi to come too, but she's still pretty hurt," Ashley commented.
—It's better if you rest, what you need is rest, fighting for bloodlust... It's not...—Mason stopped talking, he silenced himself.
You have to be blind not to see that bloodlust drives Mason to fight, he doesn't want Azumi to do the same, it's cute, Mason has a heart, and I wasn't the only one who noticed that.
"Oh, how cute!" Grayson mocked.
"I guess I'm not the one to talk about that; even now, my blood boils at the memory," Mason replied.
"That's when you start to like killing. I've seen several cases; some descend into madness, others become great soldiers, but in the end, a murderer is a murderer," I replied.
"We kill those who hurt us, that's not the same as someone murdering innocent people for pleasure," Doc argued.
"And where do you draw the line?" I asked.
"When you kill innocent people, rape women, and destroy families, that's where I draw the line," Doc replied.
—They're all going to happen, just think about it. If we win, what will be left of the high families of the God of Fire? If we don't protect them, and I doubt they'll want to, people will make them pay the price. Every time you pull the trigger on your pistol, you break a family. You might not do it directly, of course, but intentions don't matter when it comes to consequences.
—How do you fight with that in mind?
—Because I remain certain that I seek the best for everyone, and I can help little by little even if it means the suffering of a minority. I will try to help them, but as long as the majority is well, that's enough for me. In the end, no one will ever be completely satisfied, so making everyone happy is impossible. Sometimes I have to admit that it haunts and torments me, but I have to keep going.
"You learned to love and fight," Jane's voice sounded perfectly audible, in contrast to the eternal silence she maintained.
—I guess so, I'm not sure, I've always felt I'm obligated to.
"No one forced you even once. You feel obligations where perhaps none exist. Either you're a complete idiot, or you're a sick war addict seeking to justify it," Ashley attacked me calmly and serenely.
—You may be right, but it really makes me angry to see people being trampled on, people suffering for the selfish reasons of others.
—All men are equal. If no one looked for excuses to fight, we wouldn't have these problems in the first place; everyone thinks they're right, but in the end it just ends up being an endless war.
Jane broke off the conversation to argue against Ashley.
—Men? You're an idiot if you think only men have caused wars. I've seen thousands of women who do it, even smarter ones, who make their husbands fight. In the end, when punishment comes, they are saved.
"What does a woman have to do with a man's actions?" Ashley asked.
"I've been alive long enough." Jane was interrupted by a nosy Ashley.
—And you were thoroughly involved in each of your examples? There are people in this world; they are cruel and selfish; but they are also kind and full of love.
Those words made Jane angry, it was clear on her face, but even I could hear her voice choked, if she kept talking it was going to crack a little, and I think she didn't want to feel that way in front of us, so she swallowed it.
In the end, we arrived at the rendezvous point early. I signaled Rango from a distance and prepared them with a signal in case of trouble.
I'm concerned about Jane's attitude, specifically, because there's something that inevitably triggers her anger; what she's hiding hasn't healed it yet. I wonder if that has something to do with the fire god. However, should I be the one to help her? She's not someone who asks for help.
They arrived in vehicles similar to jeeps from my world, however where the engine and hood should be there was a gigantic glass that lit up intermittently.
Suddenly, a group of soldiers wearing Austro-Hungarian-style uniforms got out. That didn't inspire any confidence. I exchanged a glance with Ashley, and her expression begged for help. I suppose it was stupidity on our part, but in my opinion, it was quite justified.
Anyway, I wasn't going to ask them to join the war, I'd just take what I needed from them and that's it, I don't care about anything else. His soldiers set up a tent and a table with a chair for their leader and me.
He sat down first, inviting me to sit down as well. Accepting his invitation, I sat down and studied his body language. He was a man with a firm jaw, gray eyes, and blond hair. He was calm, feeling in control of the situation. I even sensed that the situation put him in a very good mood.
Mason's group was in formation behind me, including Ashley, of course, all except Rango, who was a good distance away aiming a sniper rifle he affectionately called "The Widowmaker."
—You must be Sean Dorvin, the general of the Libri people's rebellion, the one who scared the fire god himself so much he almost begged for another round table discussion.
He spoke my language spectacularly, I'm not sure if he's bilingual, since he has a pretty strong accent, yet he pronounced every letter of every word correctly.
"I see my exploits are reaching everyone's ears," I replied.
—Oh, my apologies, my name is Verden Steiner, Major General of all forces of the Keiserland Empire. I've come to hear your proposals.
—While I'd love to be able to talk this through calmly and probably enjoy the moment, I'm afraid neither of us have that luxury.
—Astunning, huh? Let's get to the point, he replied.
These words are starting to put me on guard, not because of their meaning, but because of the scene. Normally, generals and politicians love to waste time talking about trivialities before getting down to business, and it's something they do to build trust, an extremely confusing mind game in which they commonly seek to take advantage of the other person. It's obvious that doing business with someone who's upset is complicated, which is why there's a tendency to drink in these types of practices. I remember that at one point, people gave me many expensive cigars to extract information from me when I was quite powerful. The reason this scenario catches my attention is because if we're not in a much more pleasant place, it's because he's afraid. So, what could he possibly gain from giving me enough trust to risk a potentially interesting political intrigue?
"I need food in large quantities, and in exchange, I'll give you twice its value in metal. The terms of this are simple: you take care of the transportation; the same vehicles that bring the food take the metals away from my mining town."
But I was already expecting a betrayal, so I sent Rango away, so I just said what I wanted.
"Is that all?" he asked, a little stunned.
-Yeah.
—Funny, I honestly thought you were going to ask me to join the war.
—That's not my goal.
"You're an enigmatic person, I must say. You even strike me as intelligent, but tell me, even though I need the metal, why don't I just kill you and take your city?" His kind face turned completely serious.
I gave him a sharp look, abandoning some of my act.
—The god of fire would want him back and you know it.
—We can debate that. I can say that after their monumental defeat, I took charge and, in return, took the city.
—And so wars begin.
— Ah, but he starts it and only in that case, it would suit me perfectly.
—You didn't come to negotiate, huh? You came to kill me and plot to start a war.
I spat it all out in front of him, there was no need to hide much anymore, when not only his words proved it, but logic also dictated it.
—I was planning on talking to you more, actually. I guess it was my fault for wanting to get straight to the point. Well, Mr. Dorvin, it was a pleasure meeting you.
As soon as he started to draw his gun, I smiled and raised my index finger.
The cracks of the firing pins echoed throughout the scene, and the soldiers who had been milliseconds away from firing at us at point-blank range fell to the ground. My men had fired pistols like in the Old West, firing rapidly from the hip with extremely lethal aim. Rango shot Verden right in the hand, forcing him to drop the pistol; he was lucky the bullet didn't pass through his hand.
My face was covered in blood from Verden's hand. At that moment, I stood up and pulled out my knife, stabbing his hand right where the bullet had been. Although it had made the wound much worse, as long as I didn't pull out the knife, he wouldn't bleed any more.
Verden's expression was one of pure horror and fear, it said it all.
"Please don't kill me! We can work out the terms of the deal." Her voice was shaky.
The guy was almost crying and urinating in his pants, which was quite humiliating for the Keiserland army, since according to his own words he was the senior general, God, not even I had that rank!
Although of course I wanted to force him to accept the deal, I had to make a scene first.
—The deal isn't enough anymore. Besides, who can guarantee that someone as dishonorable as you will keep your word?
—Please, I have a daughter, give me the chance. Only one person is my superior, and that's Hast, the god of nature. I'll take responsibility. Wait, I have an idea, one that if I don't follow through with, will put me in a bad position.
—Go ahead, spit it out.
—The Empire Lords' Conference will be held in five days at a fortress that symbolizes a midpoint between nations. Can I tell you specifically where it is and what route each warlord will take?
—And tell me how I corroborate that information?
—There's still a rookie soldier in the vehicle. He'll send my message to fulfill the food deal. I'll stay with you. If I give him false information, he'll kill me.
At least he shows some cunning, as he knows what I need to let him live, and not only that, he quickly guarantees his life with the deal.
Mason goes and makes sure that there is indeed a soldier in the vehicle; the poor man was trembling with fear.
—Done, but the deal has changed, the exchange will be at the value of the metals.
—That's still a good deal, just let me write it all down and give it to the boy.
He asks the boy for a pen and paper and begins to write the note. I can understand it perfectly, which confirms that he isn't bilingual; our languages simply have different accents, something like Argentina and Colombia, where I come from.
The world stops for a moment and he looks at me, his eyes watering. He has something he needs to tell me, something he struggles to work up the courage to say, but he finally manages to do it.
—Excuse me, there's one part I can't fulfill due to military activity. If I place my men 10 kilometers away from your territory and don't attack you, will that be considered an insult to diplomatic relations with the fire god? Could you take charge of protecting the shipments in your territory?
I nodded, I had to play my cards right, it's obvious that if I tip the scales in Keiserland's favor, I'll have problems with both him and the fire god, I'll lose.
After finishing writing his letter, the man signs it with his own blood, gives it to the soldier, and orders him to take one of the two vehicles to take the letter to its destination.
The reason I don't fear betrayal in this case is simple: the guy really values his life. If I see an army outside my walls, you can be sure I'll slit its throat and bathe its soldiers in its blood, even though that might be extremely sadistic.
The soldier who had not even said a word of goodbye left, and shouted at a prudent distance.
—I was saved!
The boys, upon hearing this, burst out laughing.
"Well, let's hope they bring the food quickly, Mr. Verden. My situation is extremely precarious, and I need that food to continue my crusade," I said as we climbed into the vehicle.
Doc, Mason, and Grayson had sat in the back of the trunk, as had Verden, since he needed to get his hand wound treated.
—Thank you for sparing my life. Honestly, I didn't deserve it. Sometimes you forget that, just like me, you too must have something to fight for.
As Tech started the vehicle, everyone, except Jane and Rango, who we still had to pick up, looked at each other, analyzing what he had just said.
"We don't have anything to protect anymore, not really. We're driven by revenge, to take back what was taken from us," Doc said.
—Although we all know that nothing will ever be the same, everyone we loved is dead and nothing will change that, but at least we will be free from the fire god and prevent further suffering, —Grayson explained.
"You're not the only ones who want the fire god dead, but for obvious reasons, you're the ones with the greatest motive to kill him," Verden empathizes, occasionally complaining of pain.