Battleforged
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Chapter 422 - Diplomatic relations
🕑 Added 2024-05-17 03:59:00 +0000 UTCA/N - Elonia's POV
“The territory’s already lost, fool! And if we don’t take steps, the entire region will fall! I motion a vote for unrestricted portal access to any faction that wishes to join us in taming this unstable realm before it’s too late!”
The air cracked with the sound of a massive fist banging against the massive Altopaz conference table taking up the spacious chamber in the top conference rooms of Blue Palace where the fate of the entire region was being decided.
The owner of said fist, a massive slab of muscle kitted out in lamellar armor radiating multiple wards and enchantments, possessed the thick-browed features of an ogre and the beady eyes of a tactician. Eyes that were now coolly going over those humans, elves, and humanoids representing the factions who presently had a vested stake in the Northeast quadrant. “As representatives of our various factions, situated here in Freetown, it is our right… nay, our duty, to assure both the continuance and prosperity off our vested interests, here on Terra. And no matter how much a certain segment of cowards and shortsighted fools fear that extended settling rights will displace the natives, the fact remains that if we fail to stabilize this abomination of a monster surge that happened on Blue Corp’s watch, there won’t be any region at all for the belly-achers to worry about!”
The statesman glared a coolly poised Caliban’s way as he leaned back, took a sip from a massive golden goblet before munching on a bowl of what looked, for all the world, like fried human fingers before flashing them all a toothy smile.
Elonia, seated beside Caliban, paled, unable to take her eyes off the massive floor to ceiling holo-screen that currently showed little more than a sliver of wildly whipping grass and distant clouds before a massive obsidian barrier crackling with eldritch energies that teased and taunted with chilling patterns she just knew there was a hidden meaning behind. Dark and twisted… yet she just couldn’t decipher it. Her sensitive hearing instead focused upon the numerous parties sitting in close proximity to her, while the far side of the conference table was filled with the squeals, snorts, and obsequious bootlicking that was so common in ogre, orc, gnoll, and goblin circles.
“General Stony’s right! We need to open the gates and let our allies through! Only then will this realm be safe!” Roared a massive orc who looked every inch the bloated porker ready for market.
That thought was all that allowed Elonia to keep her smile as the porcine horror waxed long on the virtues of opening their doors to countless high powered factions that would happily grind the native population to dust under any pretext at all. She could only wonder how many millions of humans of all races and creeds would soon be collapsing along their own trail of tears if even one of these factions was allowed to flex their might free of all limitations within this sector, ‘for the greater good,’ as Stony and Black Tusk put it, never mind the fact that those fucking ABOMINATIONS were eating fried pieces of meat deliberately shaped to look like the finger bones of her people… both of her tribes… making it damned clear what both humanity and the elven tribes could expect in the very near future.
The glittering smirks she saw reflected off so many pairs of beady eyes made the farcical nature of this meeting all too clear. Because it didn’t matter what the struggling human factions declared, Elonia’s own Sylvan Faction was now so close to extinction that they were invited only as a courtesy and a taunt. The orcs, ogres, and gnoll factions combined now ruled far more of the White-tier territory that was actually claimable than anyone else, no matter that most of citizenry was humanity, second-class citizens in their own homes, if now outright collared and chained or being used as livestock. Even if it hadn’t always been this way… even if in her dreams… her nightmares… it had somehow been different, this was the reality that she was forced to accept here and now.
They all but owned the Northeast region of the former United States as it was, and this black-tier territory evolution and resultant monster surge had happened at the absolute worst possible time.
Their enemies already had them by the throat. This was just a pretext to squeeze as hard as they could.
“The Boston faction formally objects,” said the melodious voice of Queen Brittany Summers, Ruler of Boston and a good sized chunk of Massachusetts, one of the final bastions of humanity in the Northeast. “Opening wide invasion quotas, because let’s make no mistake, they are invasion quotas, is both expressly forbidden by the Imperial Ascension Accords that Lord Caliban himself witnessed us all signing over a year ago.”
“Wrong, you stuckup bitch! We’re dealing with a Black-tear monster surge! Specific provinces allow the Ascension Accords to be overturned in times of crisis!” Squealed Phospho, the gnoll representative from New York, a faction that was presently in hot war with Brittany’s faction save for this temporarily brokered peace, so his ire was to be expected.
Though Elonia couldn’t help but crack a smile when Stony glared and smacked the hotblooded fool out of his seat, after letting a key bit of intel slip, which Lady Summers immediately picked up upon.
“Ah. I see. Not a simple emergency quota bulge, but directly overturning the only safety measure we natives have against the entire galaxy coming in and flooding our planet with invaders that could obliterate us in seconds. While no doubt being permitted full access to powers, skills, and talents that we natives are denied by any and every means at your disposal, making an absolute mockery of any claim of a ‘fair and balanced’ opportunity for all natives to enjoy their own planet’s ascensions… as is guaranteed by the Imperial Accords.”
She flashed a cold smile at a snarling Phospho. “So, you would dare to mock the emperor’s own decrees? I find that exceptionally ballsy, especially for a cowardly little heel-biter like you, Phospho.”
“Lies!” Phospho screamed. “I will gut you like a fish for your false and slanderous accusations!” he then turned to the goblin representative who was all but nodding his little head off.
“That’s right! Lies and slander. Lies and slander, all of it!” The Goblin faction moves for the immediate dismissal of the Boston faction and all it’s sympathizers!” The ugly smirk on the goblin’s features was emphasized by the smack of a card the color of soul steel.
“And how the fuck do I even know what that looks like?” Elonia could only wonder, chilled by the sight of the vilest card imaginable possessed by the weakest-looking member of the opposing factions. But she knew better than to underestimate a goblin barrister under any circumstances.
Even Stony snorted at how absurd this was, yet much to Elonia’s dismay, Caliban said nothing.
Her heart lurched a beat. Seriously?
Elona grit her jaw and placed an ivory white card on the table, sensing her friends’ sudden tension.
“Sylvan Faction objects.”
“Sylvan Faction’s a single storm ward away from being wiped off the map, bitch!” Stony roared. “You shouldn’t even be here!” He slammed his fist. “I move that you be forced to vacate immediately!”
Of course his motion earned screams and howls of agreement, but no crucial flash of paper flew.
ES – Don’t. He’s baiting you.
BS – I know.
BS - Why didn’t Caliban defend?
ES – He’s saving his card.
BS – He only has one?!? It better be one fucking sweet card.
Yet Brittany refused to take the bait, just smiling and saying nothing. Stony’s pugnacious look turned to a scowl, having failed to intimidate their opponents into wasting a card.
Elonia kept her placid smile in place, no matter her pounding heart, and how badly she craved the release of euphoria that had already destroyed her in far too many nightmares for her to ever touch again.
No matter how many sweat-soaked nights she woke up screaming, knowing that her obliteration, surrounded by enemies on all sides, was just a matter of time.
“My words stand!” Brittany boldly declared. “I move that this entire counsel meeting is a farcical ploy by your factions to force an exception to the Imperial Accords. Because if you can use this surge as a pretext to flood the Northeast with Bronze elites made up of your cohorts and allies, what’s to stop them from turning their hungry gazes west or south? Or over the Atlantic, no matter that the Terran Counsel has specifically refused to permit Bronze-tier immigration… your cronies then eager to claim all of Asia and Europe and every other continent and territory who have absolutely no stake in this monster surge? Nothing. That’s what. Nothing at all.”
“Objection! This Old World Witch has dared to insult our entire alliance with accusations of conspiracy and treason! This is a killing offense! I move for her execution at once!” Stony roared, every other enemy faction immediately screaming and roaring their agreement, banging the table in unison.
Though not one played another card.
Still, the wild-eyed hate glittering from so many monstrous brows had Elonia’s heart pounding. She could taste Brittany’s fear sweat in the air.
Which was exactly what their enemies wanted. To shake them with fear so badly that mistakes were inevitable. And, of course, to save their counsel accusations for posterity.
That was when Elonia felt it. A cold shiver of wonder through her soul. Her eyes widened in utter disbelief as she gazed at the massive monitor of a window as the obsidian-like crackling barrier between White tier territory and a region as dark as midnight began to fade.
Stony’s eye widened. “Immediate counsel vote! We are putting it into effect right now!” He said, no longer wasting time with baiting and taunting, a prismatic card slammed on the table, radiating such crackling potency that it had to be an actual Bronze tier card.
How the hell he had he gotten a hold of such a thing?
Elonia exchanged a jaded look with one of her very few allies at that table.
Of course. He had been seeded it, no doubt from the very start. Their enemies forever finding ways to stack the odds in their favor until victory was all but assured.
“I move for an immediate overturn of all immigration quota limitations! Let all our brothers and sister through, so that they might keep this realm safe!” Stony roared.
Time seemed to slow as the goblin barrister screeched his factions agreement, flashing the weakest of his placards. The orc snorted his accord with his own talisman slammed down before Caliban’s abrupt knock jolted the entire table.
“This emergency session is now on hold. All cards are now out of play.”
“You overstep your authority, Blue!” Stony hissed, clenching his massive fists and glaring daggers of hate Caliban’s way.
Caliban flashed the ogre a cool smile. “Look at the monitor, Stony. Or read your interface messages. Either way, the status quo has changed. Rather significantly, it seems.”
Brittany gazed at the massive monitor with awed disbelief. “Thank fuck,” she whispered under her breath, before turning to Elonia, who was slack-jawed with awed disbelief.
Because it was true. The awful roiling in her belly had stopped. She no longer felt like she wanted to heave, or as if she and the world were simultaneously off kilter.
But it was more than a passing stomach flu which she should of course be utterly immune to as a Classer. It was a symptom of the world itself, as the dark fog between territories and regions seemed to part, revealing howling basalt fields covered in crimson grey sands and crackling lightning snapping between mustard yellow clouds.
Yet even that was transforming before her eyes as she felt herself catapulting forward in a vision of wonder, racing dozens of miles in mere seconds, past crevices and gorges, swamps and natural wonders revealing endless plains barren of all life save the most hearty brush and scrub.
“It’s a trick!” Stony roared. “Foul contrivance! No Black-tier monster surge can be ended without months of work, even with a competent regiment of Bronze Elites!”
Caliban shook his head, looking so very formal and distinguished with a certain European polish that to Elonia, he seemed very much like a modern day prince. Save, of course, for the blue tint of his suit and the saber and force-shield at his hip. “The ritual enchantment we are making use of was catalyzed by goblin shamans, keyed to the only Contender who dared to take on this challenge. A Contender that they would dearly love to see fall. As you well know, Stony.”
“Objection!” Screamed the goblin barrister. “That’s slander! You have no proof! No proof at all!”
“I demand a refund of my card!” The ogre roared over the barrister.
Caliban flashed the pair a mirthless smile. “You need but have patience, my dear barrister, for I now formally state my intention of providing all the proof needed in any imperial court of breach-of-contract and foul play.”
The barrister paled at those words as a second monitor sprung to life, showing the Sands family being interviewed, and a quartet of clearly dead, but still quite recognizable mercenaries being searched nearby, no matter that half of them were in literal pieces. Yet what stuck out most significantly to Elonia beside the brutality of the kills and the clear distress of the family, were the trio of data card readers, including a Blue Corp affiliated one, which was most noteworthy because of just how exorbitantly costly it was to make those things, from what little Elonia had gleaned in her dealings and negotiations with Blue, perhaps the strongest ally she had.
Even if Caliban made it so painfully tempting to surrender the perils of an extremely precarious existence for a luxurious and safe life as a Blue Citizen with endless opportunities to be free of all responsibility and care, finally able to live for herself, finally free of the awful burden she felt like had been grinding her down all her life. And she could even keep her prestige and title and a generous stipend, if she liked. Or change her name and start life over as an anonymous noble given respect, but with absolutely no expectations or pressure put on her whatsoever. She could live for herself, enjoy leveling up powerful skills, even attend an off-world academy and never look back.
But that would mean abandoning her people. Abandoning a niece and a regiment she only vaguely recalled even existing outside of her dreams. Dreams where her niece begged her to wait. To hold fast. That a miracle was coming.
They just needed time.
Elonia felt a fresh twist in her gut, forced to wonder what that poor family was going through, or why the goblin barrister who had dared to challenge Caliban had just turned such a bright shade of green. Then Caliban turned to face the ogre. “As for your card… You’re the one who forced an early vote, Stony. Weeks before is normally the case. And this was after the fifty hour agreed-upon compromise. So I’m afraid your card is lost.”
“Thief!” Stony roared, pounding the table once more. Yet Caliban did nothing save lean back and gesture toward the monitor ostensibly under the effect of a shaman ritual of all things.
“Come. The time for politics and posturing is over. Let us see firsthand the fate of the very first Black-tier territory to be tamed upon this virgin world.”
And that was when Elonia saw it.
A sight that caused her racial enemies to roar and howl their fury and disgust even as Brittany gazed in open-mouthed awe. “Look at that kid, arms spread wide like a fucking Highlander! As if he had just killed an entire territory!” Bright eyes turned Elonia’s way even as Stony and the others roared their contempt.
“Necromancy!” Stony declared. “We have already ruled that such is forbidden! Outlawed! That fool must be struck down at once!”
Of course the ogre’s sycophants cackled their agreement. But all Elonia had eyes for was her brother, bright blue orbs wide with inconceivable revelation and wonder as the mustard yellow skies began to clear and the entire world seemed to shift from alien desert realm to something infinitely gentler, sweeter, beyond miraculous, as if in those precious moments, her brother had the power to shape realty itself.
A nightmare transforming unto living dream.
Until the air cracked with a report so loud that the conference room itself jolted, multiple goblets cracking, Elonia’s ears ringing with pain the equal of screaming shamans in the distance as a rift formed.
A massive black rift filled with shooting stars, silvery runes and glittering nightmares and a massive fiery red eye glaring RIGHT AT ERIC!
Right at her disguised brother, and Elonia, to her awe and utter dismay, sensed that awful eldritch being, a Silver-tier monster, who had NO RIGHT to be here, slap down two placards tied to fate and reality that made the tokens they played with here during counsel, even if these echoed with the weight and peril of their own souls, surrendering their very soul points for political acumen, seem a trifling joke in comparison.
And the words, the hideous words echoing through the chamber caused the nearby alloyed windows to crack, the table to crumble, even Caliban groaning with pain… yet by some tragic miracle, the one window serving as a live-feed of whatever the hell was going on in that territory suffered no damage at all.
No. It glowed with supernatural vitality even as distant goblin shamans shrieked, as if their dark arts demanded their very souls as payment for inviolate connections.
And even that awareness was more than Elonia wished to pursue, knowing full well the true nature of her affinities she had denied for so long…
Not that much different from her twin brother after all.
“Monster-Bane is now in play. YOU, Contender, are the final beast of this territory and it will not fall and cannot be claimed until YOU or your challenger have perished!” Roared the awful, vile voice as a second far smaller rift appeared, and stepping through it was a smirking too handsome youth with bright blue eyes, wavy blond hair, and an Adonis physique covered in bespoke armaments of plate and mail that were screaming so many Bronze-tier enchantments that it crackled even from the monitor.
Elonia’s jaw clenched as Eric groaned, stumbling back. Horrified to sense that Eric was actually being forced to deal with Silver-tier suppression while marked with a Monster-Bane card. And still the words echoing from that vile Silver-tier abomination spoke on.
“Higher Authority is now in play. By virtue of his manifest destiny, Prince Leonide Augustus is a lawful contender of this world. May his reign be long and prosperous!”
The figure in question gave a proud chuckle while whipping his glittering longsword in a flashing series of moulinets, making full use of a kite shield that screamed ancient relic to Elonia’s horrified senses.
“Caliban! This is… no! How the fuck is that even legal?” Elonia whispered in furious dismay when the young master, because this Prince Leonide asswipe was most DEFINITELY the definition of a young master, gave a taunting laugh at her groaning brother, still struggling to his feet, even going so far as to give a quick little speech as he readied to strike.
Caliban shook his head. “It’s not legal in any way whatsoever, and would normally never be permitted or tolerated. Only cards forged by the emperor himself gives this Silver-tier...player the right to force his progeny in play at this particular moment in time.”
Brittany was cursing up a storm, understanding the situation at least as well as Eric.
“That asshole’s trying to poach a first-clear title on our hero’s bloody backside! That fucking ‘gaslight’ Monster-Bane card makes it so obvious! Declare him the monster so he can’t claim his own territory. Kill him and its yours, and you get a Contender kill!”
And the gloating smile that Stony sent her way sent alarm bells ringing through Elonia’s skull. Forced to accept that for all that the monster lived by his passions, he was no fool. Hyperbolic as hell, and a consummate tactician as well. Somehow, he had known. Known at least enough to set up a final trump play, should the inconceivable actually happen and Eric… or Ernest, actually manage to clear the region.
Elonia trembled with rage. “You fuckers knew. The shamans linked a tracking beacon to the scrying spell, that some Silver-tier asshole was able to use to form a jump gate, just in case Ernest actually managed to survive to surge!”
As one the humanoids stopped their bickering in chilling unison, heads turning as if on marionette strings that filled Elonia with such loathing and disgust to see.
Then the odd, awful moment passed, replaced by what was even worse, the joined contempt of four different races united in their absolute hate of elves and humanity both.
Stony’s smirk oozed pure mockery. “Sorry, princess. Looks like I’m not the only one who thinks that Necromancers must be purged at all costs!”
ES – Caliban, please, get him out of there! I’ll do anything… I’ll concede!!
Caliban turned, giving Elonia a strange look, before solemnly shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, Elonia. They’re seventy miles away.”
Like finding herself trapped in a nightmare, Elonia’s eyes were helplessly drawn to the sight of the mocking contender laughing over her brother.
“What the fuck’s that asshole saying, anyway?” Black Tooth muttered.
Stony shrugged. “Does it matter? He’s getting rid of a fucking thorn in our side. Ooh, look at that flashy blade work. I’ll bet he’s at least Adept, so should have at least one nice perk for cutting that edgelord’s head clean off!” His cronies crackled and hissed at that.
Elonia couldn’t hold back her whimper, desperately gazing her brother’s way. Seeing the look of awful strain upon his features as he struggled just to rise upon trembling legs, gritting with what seemed superhuman effort, lurching as if in momentary drunkenness before stumbling back from the coldly sneering Leonide August.
“Elonia?” Brittany gently squeezed her hand underneath the table, and right then Elonia didn’t even care that they weren’t in private.
Her heart was pounding.
Because it suddenly didn’t matter that the mocking asshole with reflexes so fast that his blade tore through the air was steadily approaching her brother weaving a desperate, drunken retreat. It didn’t matter how the other was clearly laughing and taunting Eric, and had been so clearly given every advantage, with a blade that looked shockingly deadly, and a shield she sensed was a Silver-tier artifact that had absolutely no place in an ascending world.
Even when all hope seemed lost, all the cards stacked against them, her enemies hooting and hollering like the porcine monstrous abominations they were, she dared to hope.
Because one thing her brother could never do was act. And when he stumbled to his feet like a drunken fool… she hoped, prayed, that he was hiding his strength.
Because if she was wrong...
Elonia’s ears popped with sudden pain, and then she could hear every word.
“And now is where you die, you filthy abomination!” Snarled Leonid in perfect English. “Only then will this territory finally be cleansed!”
Eric groaned, stumbling back, hand on the hilt of his mithril blade he sobbed, as if knowing he would never be able to draw it. “Please, make it a fair fight at least! You’re using a Silver champion to suppress me. There’s no honor in this!”
The young master’s eyes lit up with unholy glee. “That’s where you’re wrong, fool! The cards of fate have declared you an abomination! You daring to truck in necromancy is an abomination! Did I not have the means to assure your pack’s instant obliteration with your death, then all hope would be lost!”
Leonid had the gall to look chalked up, shedding crocodile tears. “It will be all I can do to save this poor doomed world with my father’s counsel. But with his help, rest assured, this realm will rise from the ashes of it’s own folly!”
Eric’s eyes widened, his stumble momentarily forgotten as he chuckled with bemusement. “You’re no alien hybrid. You were born here, same as me! Your father’s a Silver-tier monster who seeded some Terran woman and that’s the real reason why you’re able to be here right now. So tell me, Leonid, does your mother know you’re about to commit murder?”
The young man’s eyes flashed pure hate, his blade flashing so fast that Elonia couldn’t even see it.
“Eric!”
Stony and the others snorted and chuckled when Leonid blanched with fury and charged, lashing out in a flurry of blazingly fast moulinets that looked more than capable of obliterating anyone lacking a deep Bronze’s Quickness.
“How dare you talk about my mother, filth! We end this here and—”
His words cut off with a surprised blink to find a coolly smiling Eric smirking at him, his blade wrenching Leonid’s off-line an instant before he struck in turn, mithril blade darting forward with a serpent’s fury to caress Leonid’s armor in a shower of sparks that sent Eric’s opponent stumbling back, gazing at Eric with a look of furious disbelief.
“Impossible! My father can force even mid-tier Bronze to fold before him. Mortal puppets are crushed to jelly! There is now way in hell you should be moving, let alone fighting! You should be utterly suppressed!”
Eric chuckled coldly. “Nothing like a rigged game to assure you an easy win. Isn’t that right, Leonid?”
“That’s right, asshole. Now die!”
Mithril blades flashed and Elonia’s heart was in her throat.
She could barely suppress a whimper, knowing that she couldn’t see death any better than any of the other sneering assholes at that table. Only Caliban, and the trio of elite Bronze mercenaries scowling at the massive display, seemed like they could possibly keep track of Eric and Leonid’s monstrous speed.
Yet all she felt was dread as the pair broke off after every lightning fast engagement, mithril ringing so hard that she thought her ears would bleed.
How awful it was to see Leonid lurching back with a snarl and fresh dents to his impossibly ornate armor protecting him so well, when her own brother was lurching back with blood spurting from cuts. A sight that would have filled her with absolute horror, did the sprays of blood seeping from her brother’s flesh not die off just seconds after being inflicted. Yet she knew, still, that death was just a single mistake away.
Her flesh crawled with the grunts of pain slipping from her brother’s lips as time seemed to freeze, Elonia spotting the final thrust of an engagement, a sneering Leonid’s blade snaking right under her brother’s guard and RAMMING right into his mithril hauberk with such force, sending him catapulting back dozens yards, that she thought for sure that his ribs had been shattered by whatever ugly strike that monster had used.
But somehow, by some impossible miracle, her grimly smiling brother was once more stumbling back to his feet.
“Nice thrust. Piercing Strike Variant? Just how low are your Soul Reserves now?”
Leonid’s eyes widened after the last exchange. “Impossible. I’m faster. I KNOW I’m faster. I struck you in the heart! Your ribs should be powder, even with that hauberk. You should be dead!”
“We don’t fall that easy, motherfucker!” Brittany muttered under her breath, and in that second, Elonia felt nothing but fierce admiration and kinship with her friend.
A part of her even dared to hope that the scheming psychopaths playing the natives for fools three moves deep might actually slip up, that team humanity might actually have a shot.
Before Leonid’s almost boyish frown turned to the cold-eyed smirk of a malicious monster who had only been toying with his prey.
Elonia’s gut clenched. The desperate momentary hope that it had been a shift of mood and light was proven to be a fool’s desperate fancy when the cold-eyed sneer grew in contempt as Leonid’s mithril blade took on a hue of ebony so impossibly back that space and time seemed to warp and scream around the edge of the blade.
Her breath froze in her lungs, seeing the flash of genuine shocked surprise upon her brother’s countenance, even as the entire conference room erupted in hoots and hollers.
And Stony’s face. The absolute gloat on his features as he roared like a classic 20th century politician. “Higher order attacks are in play, Caliban! Terra has proved its ascension! All strictures can now be lifted!”
His roar was one of triumph, even as Brittany screamed foul.
“Bullshit! Caliban made it clear that any and all attacks are permitted during a monster surge!”
The way Stony’s face lit up with his monstrous mocking smile made Elonia seethe.
“That’s right, bitch. During a monster surge. And as we can all see, the monster surge has already passed.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Your hidden rook gets teleported in by some fucking BULLSHIT to kill our hero AFTER he saves the entire region from certain destruction, riding on YOUR Bronze tier goblin shamans which shouldn’t even be here, and the sword he suddenly pulls out because he can’t beat our boy fairly, a weapon that looks like it could cut through a fucking black hole… That’s you’re excuse to flood the entire world with you over-leveled fuckheads? An attack used by YOUR own man against us means that we’re somehow powerful enough to survive all you assholes ganging up, no-holds-barred? I’ve heard of gas-lighting and false flags, but that takes the absolute fucking cake!”
The goblin barrister slammed down yet another card. “This Terran whore has dared to impinge upon our character one to many times! She has NO PROOF of any sort that we aided and colluded with any extra-planar Silver-tier power! I’m suing her for libel! Her whole damned faction for Libel! I demand compensation at once!” The sneering goblin exchanged smirks with every party at once, all of them smirking at a shocked Brittany with malicious glee.
“Unless she can prove her accusations, We ALL demand satisfaction IMMEDIATELY!”
Stony chortled. “Got you, bitch. Hook, line, and sinker.”
Brittany’s fists clenched. “Bullshit. This is absolute BULLSHIT, you invading MOTHERFUCKERS!”
Yet Stony’s sneer made it clear that he had won this round. All the more so when he looked toward Caliban’s own Bronze-tier elites. “You know the law, tin heads. Arrest this bitch.”
Chapter 423 - Conflict Resolution
Comments
Joe K
Yeah it's really annoying when one side has to honor the law and all possible loopholes while the other side just breaks every conceivable law without consequences.
Antony Haynes
IF the story is going to continue to emphasize lawfare, THEN the human-friendly factions must have a counter. For example, when there's a contract dispute, then you sue the other party in court, before a judge and jury--so based on human traditions, a counter to lawfare should be simply to demand a neutral tribunal to interpret in contractual disagreement. IN addition, it appears that the humans don't have access to the full codex of rules and regulations; however, the whole point of having rules and regulations is that they are published and made available to the public. Thus, at a minimum, humans should have access to all the rules and regulations and at least one human (perhaps a former lawyer or judge) should have read them; and thus a second counter would be for one or more humans to learn the full codex of rules and regulations. It's unrealistic that the goblins are able to use --unilaterally-- a combination of seers, shamans, assassins, and lawfare barristers to "trump" all opposition and defeat the efforts of Blue Corps and the Sylvan Faction. This is especially unrealistic considering how many lawyers humanity has pre-system apocalypse; so there should still be millions of former lawyers running around. In short, humans should be at least as good at lawfare--if not better than--as the goblins.
Chad Rapoza
Technically Stony is wrong. The monster surge isn't over because the monster-bane card prevented it. Making "Ernest" the final boss. So no matter what they should both be able to use their higher order abilities and still be covered by the monster surge "protections". Or am I wrong in that 🤔
Sébastien Kingsbury
What law? Why are they even pretending law is a thing when this whole story is "goblins apparently make up the rules as they go because fuck the good guys"?
