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Chapter 157: Welcome to the Kingdom: Plotting
🕑 Added 2023-06-12 12:00:07 +0000 UTCAN: Extra long chapter today! You’ll actually be seeing a lot of extra length chapters in the near future :P
Hope you enjoy!
(Also, I am currently uploading this from my phone in a candle-lit room because of a power outage. So please let me know if there are any formatting errors and I’ll fix them as soon as I can. Thanks!)
Asmo walked down a hallway in a large, ornate palace. She was currently on her way to her first meeting with the VIPs that’d survived the assault on the Kingdom’s Edge wall after finally having gathered them all together. This would be her moment to establish herself as an authority, and to get them onto her side.
Because there were sides, here. Sure, sure, everyone was trying to kill the fugitive, or whatever, but Asmo didn’t really care about that. Yes, that was what the Demons wanted—-and in order to borrow their power, she’d need to make them happy—-but, at the end of it all, she did not care about the Demons. She cared about amassing power. They were just the most efficient road to that end. So she had plans to get them out of her hair once she established herself. At the very least, she wanted to oust that annoying fake Koinkar. Then she could have some more freedom in her operations. It was a start.
And step one of that start was getting the support of these VIPs. So she’d planned out this entire conversation. She had a speech she’d give first, and then a prepared response for everything they might say, every question they might ask, anything that could happen afterward. She knew how she’d stand, where she’d stand, and who she’d look at with each word.
She marched up to the door that led into one of the few meeting rooms in the palace, grabbed the doorknob, and swung it open. With a quick glance at the round table facing the door, she saw that everyone was there—the four surviving VIP strategists. She quickly turned away and faced the illuboard on the wall they were facing.
An illuboard was a basic Enchanted item that could apply illusions to its own white surface, used as a sort of illustration board to draw up plans or anything else you might want to show a class of students, business partners, or, in this case, a war planning committee. She grabbed the Enchanted stick paired with the illuboard to draw on it, raised it up, and dragged it across the surface, leaving behind a black mark on the shiny white slat.
Controlling her breathing to show no fear, she calmly drew up a depiction of the city they were currently in. One of the benefits to using an illuboard instead of something cheaper, like a sheet of paper, was that, as it only actually used illusion magic, the marks made on the board could be erased at will, anytime, meaning it never had to be replaced. And the other, much more important benefit was that, as a magical object, it was not only Enchanted to create illusions, but also to do minor mental divination into the head of the user, interpreting what they wanted to draw and assisting them in doing so. It wasn’t always perfect, but generally speaking, a quick doodle that only took a few seconds could actually look rather realistic.
So, after taking a few seconds to create the basic outline of the city and its walls, the illuboard automatically filled in the rest of the drawing, creating details such as houses in the outer echelons, shops in the middle ring, and in the center, the palace they were currently meeting within. It even labeled the city with fancy typography below it, with the city’s name wrapping around the bottom part of the wall, Kingstown—not exactly a creative name, but Koinkar himself had come up with it when he founded the kingdom all those hundreds of years ago, so most forgave him in his youthfulness.
After drawing the city of Kingstown, Asmo drew, next to it, a much more detailed version of the royal palace within, with the floor plans of every room detailed and labeled, including the war room itself they were currently in. At this point, she could hear the muttering of the four individuals behind her—the VIPs who were once her equals. She’d never really gotten to know them on any sort of personal level, or even made casual conversation with them, but she was at least familiar with the capabilities and roles they had during the wall project. She knew them well, and she knew how to present well to this audience. So she ignored their whispers to each other wondering what their new commander was doing.
After drawing up the palace, she pinched her fingers on the board in a command to shrink the current drawing slightly—to ‘zoom out’—and used the newly-made space to draw up a few other relevant cities within the kingdom of Koinkar. She drew up some environmental details like the mountain range of Kingdom’s Edge, some of the major forests, and so on, and…done. Taking a step back, Asmo looked over the illustration to ensure everything was right and she had all the elements there she needed.
“Okay,” she spoke the first words since entering the room, and turned around to look at the four faces staring back at her.
Winic Vigandoth, Carison Aakbi, Keiki Umesai, and Jon Mourn. The mage, merchant, warrior, and healer. Winic had a long, spindly beard that would probably reach his knees if it weren’t so curly and bunched up in messy tangles and knots. Carison was much more slick in appearance, a pencil-thin mustache the only facial hair to complement his bald head. Keiki had intense eyes that seemed to stare straight through Asmo, and long, perfectly-straight black hair that flowed down the back of her chair. And Jon had a fully neutral face that went perfectly with his plain brown robe, nothing to differentiate him from any random peasant one may encounter on the street.
Between the four of them was her chance at power. And she intended to seize it.
“Winic,” she said to the mage, “tell me who I am.”
He squinted his eyes in a sort of look of appraisal. “...You are Asmo, no last name. Or did I forget? I apologize, I’m absolutely horrid with names…”
“No, you are correct. I am Asmo. Tell me why I am standing here, and you four are sitting there.”
“Because the Demons chose you to lead.”
“Sure. Why?”
He frowned, now understanding what she was getting at.
“It is because,” Asmo answered her own question when it became clear Winic wouldn’t, “I know more than you, about more than you. All four of you were chosen because you had specialized skills and specialized knowledge that was useful to this cause. I, however, do not. I was not even chosen. I, instead, negotiated my way into standing right here. I have no specialized knowledge that the Demons decided they needed. What I do have is the ability to take what I want. What I have is the ability to want to know something, and then know it. To want to use that knowledge, and then use it. To want to exploit that use, and then exploit it. One might say that I have application where you have theory. Which is why I, as the one who has this skillset, was chosen for this role. Where you can do the things I ask, I’m the one who knows what to ask.”
Winic nodded slowly at her answer.
“Carison,” Asmo turned to the merchant. “Why do they value my skillset? What makes me a useful asset to the Demons?”
“Well,” Carison seemed more prepared to answer, “you seem to have something rare. And what is rare is valuable. If the four of us do not have this ‘application’ you speak of, then you, as the sole owner, will obviously be able to ask for whatever you want in exchange.”
“Hm, hm,” Asmo nodded. “And why am I the sole owner? What makes me so unique to have this value in the first place?”
He furrowed his brows, obviously unsure of how to answer.
“One could say I am similar to you, Carison. I was born as nothing. Literally. I did not have a name. Or, perhaps my parents intended to give me a name, but forgot to do so while they were too busy dropping me off on the porch of a random house. Eventually, I found my way to an orphanage, and when I was being signed in, the baby I was, I scribbled on the sheet while the stranger attempted to drop me off. The place I scribbled on happened to be the line they were supposed to put my name on, and since there was nothing better to use, they simply interpreted my scribbles as me naming myself. ‘Asmo’ is a shortened version of the lengthy string of nonsense I happened to spell. It literally is meaningless. Nothing. I eventually worked myself up to the point where my name did mean something, however, as an esteemed royal guard. Just like how you worked yourself to your position as an esteemed merchant. So we have a similar perspective in that sense.”
“So why do you believe you have this skill of application, then?”
“Because, just as I crested that mountain of esteem, I was pushed back down by this invasion. I became a prisoner. Nothing, once more. However, I am now where I am because I refused to stay there. I used what I had to negotiate with them until I was, once again, on top. So, in that sense, while you may have the perspective we share, the Demons see me as the only one to have applied it so far.”
“Certainly respectable,” he nodded.
“Keiki,” Asmo turned to the warrior. “Do you think I would lose to you in a fight?”
Everyone, Keiki included, seemed surprised at the sudden change of topic. The woman stared at Asmo, looking her up and down in an obvious assessment of fighting ability. After a long moment, she opened her mouth. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“My weapon has been fitted with higher-quality Enchantments, and I have a slight Level advantage above you. These two pieces of information give me the upper hand, and in addition to that, I believe I have more fighting experience, I am more tactically-minded and could outmaneuver you in the battlefield, and my Dexterity-based build counters yours as an Archer, as I can dodge and deflect attacks with my sword. These compounding factors would lead to me having overwhelming dominance in a combat encounter.”
“Well analyzed,” Asmo nodded. “Now prove it.”
Carison scooted his chair back, clearly anticipating a fight to break out. He was Unclassed, so Asmo understood his concern of collateral damage, but he was incorrect in thinking Keiki would attack.
She stared at Asmo. “I cannot. Killing or even harming you would surely lead to my arrest and execution by the Demons.”
“So if we were to fight, you would die?”
“...Yes, in short.”
“So I would not lose. At worst, we would draw.”
“That is hardly a fair scenario. In a true battle—”
“A true battle is one that happens in reality, yes? Not in some imaginary realm? In a true battle, Demons would rush into this room the moment they heard something wrong, seize you, and kill you before you could scratch me. If your build counters mine, my position counters your build.”
“Having guards is hardly an impressive feat.”
“And yet I do, and you do not. As I said before, you have a specialized set of skills. That specialization is in fair strength. It is appreciable. However, what I lack to you in fair strength, I have in unfair strength. I scheme, and plot, and take over. And us schemers need you fair fighters. And you fair fighters need us schemers. We work together, each making up for the other’s weaknesses. Like two soldiers fighting back to back. Can you respect that?”
Keiki tilted her head to the side, considering Asmo’s question, before finally saying, “I suppose so.”
“Great.” Asmo turned to the healer. “Jon.”
“I suppose you have a question for me?” Jon said in a patient voice. “You want me to tell you something about yourself?”
“No. For you, I want you to tell me something about you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “A pleasant surprise. I was beginning to think you were self-centered. What do you want to know?”
“Why do you do what you do?”
He looked at Asmo, now clearly amused. “That’s quite the broad question.”
“Let me narrow it down, then. Why are you a healer?”
“Ah. Well, I wanted to save lives.”
“So then, why do you work with a force of Demons? Sounds rather hypocritical to me.”
He laughed. “Isn’t it hypocritical of you to criticize me for doing what you’re doing?”
“No. I never claimed to want to save lives.”
He pursed his lips. “Well then. I suppose I consider it to save more lives in the long run if we get rid of this one person to save the many. It is essentially a numbers game. Same way I viewed my own life. I sacrificed my money, time, and quality of life to help many others get their own money, time, and quality of life back by healing them for free, donating to the needy, and doing unpaid labor. And that was a good thing, because I’m only making one person suffer—myself—in order to help so many others. So to kill a single person to save so many more? I feel that this is simply the righteous thing to do. If I were in this fugitive’s position, I’d slit my own throat in an instant. As would I slit a child’s, a mother’s, anyone who needs to be killed to save the people as a whole.”
“That’s fair,” Asmo nodded. “But I suppose you do not particularly like the Demons? They are the ones forcing you to choose between killing one and killing many.”
“I suppose I don’t.”
“Do you consider their happiness, however? If the fugitive dies, that is only one death. But it makes countless Demons happy.”
“I do not see why I would ever consider the happiness of non-Humans.”
“So then, ousting the Demons would be your ideal scenario?”
“But to do so is foolishness. There would be a significant chance—nay, an inescapable eventuality—that ousting the Demons from the Overworld would end in fighting, conflict, war, and only more Human deaths. This is the path that most likely ends in the most happiness for Humanity.”
“So what do you think about working for me, then?”
“It’s an unfortunate, but necessary, circumstance.”
“And that is where I disagree. In fact, I see no connection between what you have established about your feelings on the Demons, and what you think of me.”
He frowned. “To work for you is to work for the Demons. As I said, while I think it is the best option to ensure the good of Humanity, I would still rather the Demons not—”
“But who ever established that to work for me is to work for the Demons?”
Jon stared at Asmo suspiciously.
“I work alongside the Demons currently. But I do not share their goals. My goals are those of a Human being. Not those of a Demon. Working for me is not like working for Xhag’duul, or Quinmorada, or the fake king. It is only similar to working for, and alongside, your fellow man. I understand your numbers game. I can work with you on it. They will not.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” Jon said. “But I’m not sure I fully follow. What do you plan to do that doesn’t align with the Demons?”
“I am very glad you brought me to that.” Asmo turned around to face the illuboard she’d set up in the beginning of the meeting. The kingdom stared back at her. “You see, you may want to work with me because I have a breadth of knowledge, or a respectable work ethic, or a strategic mind, or simply because I am a Human being. But there is one reason that I believe can unify us all.”
She used the Enchanted stick to draw a circle on the floor plan of the palace, around the war room. The room they were currently in.
“This circle represents our circle of influence. It is the place we own. As a team of five, we currently control this room, and this room only. Our place, that we can use, where we have the resources, where we give the orders, where we make the decisions. This is our territory.”
She then drew circles around a few of the outer cities she’d drawn. Tapinsouth, Fronttown, and Carth.
“How long until this is the case? How long until these cities are also under our control?”
Keiki spoke up first. “To oust the Demons and enact a full military takeover would be…costly. We would need armies, which would mean we would need resources. Weapons, manpower, Classers to fight off the Demons, who would obviously want to take back their own captured territory…perhaps three years.”
“A fair estimate,” Asmo said. “Any other guesses?”
“I would say it wouldn’t take so long,” Carison said. “Leader Asmo never said anything about a military takeover. This would simply be a location where we control what decisions are made more prominently than the Demons do. If we could seize the production lines for each of these cities, the monopoly we could gain would effectively do just that. Personally, I don’t think it would take much longer than six months, if we made the right decisions and formed the right connections.”
Asmo nodded. “Anyone else have any better ideas?”
Nobody spoke up.
“Two weeks.”
Everyone looked at her, intrigued.
“By my estimate, it would take two weeks to own these three cities,” Asmo repeated. Then she turned back to the illuboard and drew a circle around the palace itself—not just the war room, but the entire building. “How about how long it would take for this to happen? Or,” she drew a circle around the entire capital city of Kingstown. “This?”
Jon leaned forward. “Are you suggesting a coup?”
“I’m not suggesting one, I’m already planning it. How long?”
Nobody answered her question.
“Four weeks.”
They all seemed completely on the hook at this point.
“And how about,” Asmo turned and drew a circle around the entire kingdom of Koinkar. “This?”
“...”
“That’s a question whose answer depends entirely on your performance,” Asmo said. “But I do believe that it, like the answers to the questions before, will be shorter than you anticipate.”
“One does not simply take over a kingdom,” Winic said. “You would need…Do you even understand the artifacts this country has to back up its power? Do you understand what it can do when threatened?”
“And where do we come into all of this?” Carison asked.
“I do not believe you would be able to seize control of the kingdom at all, much less in such a short time,” Keiki challenged.
“We can,” Asmo said, looking at all of them. “Would you like to know how?”
Comments
Sean
And that, ladies and gentlemen of the board, is how to expand our profit margins while cutting our costs. We simply raise our prices and lower our workers' pay. -Asmo probably
