The Lost Bureau & others (a semi original isekai series)

[John_Oakman]

(S.E. 390s)

F**k you senpai! The Elven Human War​

Part 1: anticipating violence

The first thing that Jefferson Poeman noticed when he stepped onto the train car in Ekabery central station was the dragon sitting in one of the couches, sipping tea from a dainty little cup. It was a jarring sight, mostly because dragons, especially pure dragons, are usually way too rich and upper class to travel in merchant class cars.

"Good morning, fellow traveler." The dragon said cheerfully. "Come and have a seat here."

"What, what is someone like you doing here?" Jeff asked, still haven't shaken out of his surprise even as he sat across from the dragon.

"My my, how impolite, we must exchange introductions first." The dragon was obviously having a bit of fun at the human's expense. "I am Dag'Ensond, heir to the Qoma aluminum works, and who might you be?"

"I, I am Jefferson Poeman, military attaché, on my way to the Lasce Imperial State on behalf of the Axeon Union."

"Oh, that's wonderful. For I am in a similar position, though rather lacking the official-ness of your position as my government haven't seen to care enough about this little war that is coming about."

It was something that while everyone barring some of the more naive pacifists that the newly reorganized Elven state and its immediate human neighbor the Kingdom of the Wolf were on a collision course to war. However, to most it was still almost unbelievable that the actual spark was from a group of rogue human adventurers allegedly unaffiliated with neither countries who crossed the border illegally and attempted to kidnap the elven capital tennis team at the third Elven games. More observing persons would realize that given the… particular personality of the current tyrant in charge of the Imperial State attacking what being one of her key social political pet projects would not end well for all participants.

Regardless of the alleged spark, war was promptly declared, even though no one was actually prepared for such a thing. Despite the bombastic militarization of the new regime, the Elven military was far from ready, with mobilization orders not even sent out until the declaration of war was sent over the border (as there were no embassy between the two countries). Meanwhile over the border, the situation was worse, while the Kingdom of the Wolf had made great strides towards modernization of its industries much of that was extremely selective, mostly in the 'spear' part of the military.

Such was the case that despite the supposed suddenness of the war and the media fueled fear mongering surrounding it, there was preciously little activities in the opening days. Just enough time for everyone else to ship out gaggles of attachés and associated hangerons to gawk on what was shaping up to be the first 'modern' war. Thus it came to be that a human and a dragon were sharing the same table on a train car on its way to the Elven imperial capital.

……

"So you were saying you're here to research on your newest book, may I enquire on the nature of the contents?" It was after dinner, a simple affair of instant noodles of which Dag was oddly enthusiastically about, and night has fallen, making sightseeing (not that anyone on the car was into that much, given the nature of their trip and destination), all but impossible.

"Ah, yes. It will be about the history of warfare, specifically of this century, which by the scale of time was remarkable in how much advancements there were. It was a century started with the last hurrah of the noble arms and it appears to be that it'll end with the herald of the exit of sapient creatures from the combat lines. All the more remarkable was that all this was within the span of a single lifetime." He looked at Jeff, who seemed to be confused for a moment. "Oh my, I'm sorry, sometimes I do forget that not everyone lives as long as us or the elves. Another perk of travelling more normal surroundings."

"If that why you are traveling in merchant class instead of aristocratic class?"

"Yes, a flaw among my race for so long, that we styled ourselves as above the rest. Unfortunately many of us still do, it makes us lose certain perceptions at times."

"Well, that's very humble of you."

"It was also much more relaxing, no need to be stick up the arse about high culture and etiquette." He chuckled, and Jeff followed suit, though with somewhat more cautiously.

"By the way," Dag asked, "I been meaning to ask, but are you one of the isekais?"

"Oh no," Jeff replied, "first generation native, or one and a half depends on how you look at it. Mother is isekai while father is native, given how few male isekais live on this side of the borders."

"Have they ever figured out why almost all the males summoned or sent here tend to be… well, scum?"

"Sort of. They just chalk it up as the local deity or deities in charge of this mess are scumbags also." Jeff shrugged. No one really dwell up on that, and even the most inquisitive theologians have long since stopped actively looking into the matter.

"Well given how much we have all advanced during this past short century, perhaps it will be simply a matter of time before we take our rightful vengeance on those deities."

"Quite a lofty dream don't you think?" Jeff was more than a little skeptic on mere mortals' chances against deities, especially ones that doesn't even seem to inhabit the same plane of existence.

"The past century has already seen more changes than the previous millennium. Who knows what the future will bring?"

"You, off all people, should know better than making forecast on mere trends."

Dag lightly flapped his wings, his race version of a shrug, "It's hard not to be optimistic about such things though, especially after living through those times before the flowering of progress."

------

At the Elven capital of Starlark, the two newly and unlikely acquaintances bid their goodbyes, as Dag heads off to observe the Elven army while Jeff stayed on the train, as his stop was to be the port of Aquaston.

For a city of a country at war, Starlark was oddly tranquile. The streets were filled with the usual throngs of civilians going on their merry ways, and few soldiers or sailors in sight. The shops and cafes were open, for all intents and purposes business as usual. However there was a different feeling in the air, a sense of purpose mixed in with perhaps mild anticipation.

He didn't have much time to dwell on that as the train soon left Starlark proper, and once again seemly endless fields of grain or groves of fruit trees only occasionally broken by the odd village and town greets him as the train chugs along, oblivious to the war at large.

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 2: nice boats​

The port of Aquaston was a frenzy of activity when Jeff arrived, a forest of masts and funnels all but obscuring the warehouses and other buildings from afar. Ships of all kinds, from humble fishing boats with only sails to the vast cargo ships and passenger liners whose funnels bellows the vast machinery deep in their hulls.

He was however, looking for the naval base, and after a half an hour in what passed for hectic traffic by elvish standards (The wide streets really helped a lot in dealing with traffic, even as the city expanded along with the population) he arrived at the naval base section of the port.

For a supposed militarized power with imperial ambitions and colonial obligations, the naval base was oddly non-militaristic looking. All of the building were of a handsome brick construction, none were taller than four stories, making it little surprise that the whole complex of buildings sprawled what must have been many acres of prime land. The spaces between those buildings were filled with gardens and tree lined path, with the odd large grass fields dotted occasionally. The docks on the other hand, did give off a more workmanlike atmosphere, and a number of warships and boats were docked there.

Compared to the civilian cargo ships, much less the passenger liners, even the largest warships present there were rather on the smaller side of things. Most of the warships present were even smaller. Size aside, a few do appear reasonably modern, even though some of the smaller ones still appears to have some sailing masts in addition to steam power as indicated by their funnels.

He then made his way to the shiniest ship at the docks.

…...

"Welcome aboard to the LINS Scorpion." A female officer announced to Jeff as he walked up the gangplank. "I'm captain Renuema."

There was a small group of sailors waiting for him on the Scorpion, although they didn't exactly made themselves obvious enough, as they watched in amusement as Jeff was trying to find the correct ship. It turns out that all four ships of the class were at the docks, making identification a bit harder than usual.

"I thank you for the navy's generosity for allowing observers onboard." Jeff replied. It's the standard greetings for attachés when boarding the vessels or others or following their land military units, a measure of acknowledgement of the existence that the eyes of the world are watching.

Speaking of the sailors themselves, Jeff wondered what the heck were they thinking when they adapted a variation of the Sailor Fuku style uniform. While it was certainly a delicious irony for a military style uniform to be used in an actual military setting for once it doesn't doesn't necessarily meant it was practical, but then again given the tropical nature of the usual places where the imperial naval usually trawls around there was a certain bit of logic. He figured though it was probably adapted on the suggestion of some isekai, either a full or half weeaboonese one. Only those bastards would have the influence and the motivation to combine out of place sexuality and naked imperialism.

But it is bad habit to pass judgement on a military only by their appearances, and Jeff had to remind himself that he is about to witness the first time any modern navy on this world go into combat. In hindsight, it was weird that there weren't more naval combat in the past century, but then again when all the relevant nations were all located in a single continent and all the colonial adversaries tend to be either nature or the natives there weren't many opportunities for navies to shine… or humiliate themselves.

After a few exchanges of additional greetings and other small patitudies of little consequence it was time for the tour of the ship, although Jeff didn't to tell them that he's already well acquainted with the capabilities of the ship. After all, the ship they're on now was designed and constructed by Tomson-Palmer Industrial Conglomerate, as well as one of the remaining three of the class. Many of the larger vessels of the imperial navy were still designed and constructed in foreign yards, which was a good way to acquire modern units quickly without the prerequisites of infrastructure investments but also leaves quite a few outsiders knowing what their capabilities are.

Regardless, it doesn't hurt to refresh on the knowledge, and more importantly, to see what they left out for the audience. So as the ship's tour begin some rather familiar information begin to flow again: The ship bring the lead ship of her class, laid down at Tomson-Palmer Industrial Conglomerate's Iron Sand shipyard. main armament consists of three 200mm guns, mounted in a single turret, interestingly at the back. The design choice was to have a higher freeboard in the forecastle while keeping displacement at a reasonable level.

"... and total crew is at 118." First officer Fimensia rambled on.

"Wait, what?" Jeff interrupted, something's off. "A ship this size should have more than double that." He didn't mention the paper full wartime complement, which they now should be at, was supposed to be 374, more than three times the crew currently quoted.

Fimensia smiled, "Very perceptive. Yes normally the crew requirements of a vessel of this size would require a much larger crew, however we are able to replace most of the stokers and gun crew with golems. An unusual form of automation perhaps, but it works. This way also allows us to push the boilers and guns much closer to their potential, as golems tend to have a higher consistent rate of work as compared to mortals."

Jeff whistled at hearing that. The amount of mana required to power that number of constructs, especially if this was repeated across the rest of the fleet, would be unthinkable to any other country. Yet it appears that the elves think nothing of such expenditure of such valuable resources. Then he realized, that's probably the impression they want to give to him; that of a modern and powerful military well funded with resources.

Well, that remains to be seen. Then he noticed something else seemly unexplained.

"What's with the painted lines in the front?" He pointed at the forecastle of the ship, which saved for the usual anchor chains and two 50mm guns on the side, was mostly cleared up with quite a bit of line in some sort of pattern.

"Oh those?" She shrugged, "Landing markers for the onboard aviation complement."

"What aviation complement?" He asked, looking around for anything that would suggest the storage of heavier or lighter than air flying machines. Not that he expected any, since from all accounts the former are still a ways off while the latter still being mere curiosities. "Witches with broomsticks?"

"They traded in the broomsticks for boomsticks a time ago, much more useful if they come into contact." She replied nonchalantly. Jeff simply stared at her. "What? Everyone knows how important aviation is for scouting." She continued, as if it's the most mundane thing in the world.

For the second time that day Jeff found out just how unorthodox the elves were in their application of existing technology and magic, and the blind spots the isekais have in their usual assumptions.

This war might have more implications than mere change of borders and bodies hitting the floor...

------

"Enemy fleet sighted. Bearing Southwest. Distance of 20 kilometers and closing" One of the officers of the bridge reported calmly and clearly. A communications officer, in charge of filtering information from the witch scouts, of which the last of them had returned around half an hour ago.

It was a few weeks out in the South Ocean, most of which the fleet, which was really just a dozen cruisers (there were a few more, but they had to turn back due to engine troubles.So much for the vaulted golems) cheerfully chugging along. Thankfully the seas were mostly calm, although Jeff quickly found out that for all the supposed romanticism of sea travel did little to prepare him for the reality, like minor things such as sea sickness and lack of vegetables outside of cans.

"Acknowledged." The captain replied. "All personnel prepare for combat."

As everyone else scurry off to their positions to wait in anticipation of the coming battle Jeff was still standing in a corner of the bridge, though the bridge of the Scorpion, as well as most larger vessels tend to be closer to that of a combant center.

The idea was simple, the imperial fleet was to bait the fleet of the human kingdom out of their ports and into a wild goose chase, thus allowing the shipment of resources, supplies, and most importantly golems and their accompanying mages from the South Continent to the old world.

Indeed the plan was simple, therefore there was no possibility that it would have worked. Which was why they took a slight detour and shelled the port of Coburn. The resulting shelling was far from impressive, more of a live fire exercise than a terror attack, in which a not insignificant number of shells somehow missing the city entirely although the distances was a bit on the longer end of suggested range.

And now the entirety of the Kingdom's navy was steaming to meet them.

Well, not all of it, just all the major units.

"Latest report enemy fleet strength at four battleships and seven armored cruisers." The officer continued. What was not mentioned, and Jeff wasn't sure if the elves knew about it, but the kingdom's ironclads were about a decade older than the elven ships. Such knowledge being one of the more dubious perks of belong to a country that sold ships and designs to anybody and everybody. That being said the rest of them on the bridge doesn't need to know that.

However, just because the enemy's ships were a bit out of date doesn't mean the the end has already been written. Older or not battleships still carry more armor than cruisers, not to mentioned the bigger guns. It's going to be a rather interesting fight all things considered.

"Smoke spotted. Due southwest" One of the other officers announced. Presumably relayed the information from some observer on the crow's nest on the single mast.

"Set course for intercept." The admiral called out.

The next couple of minutes as the two fleets prepared to meet their destiny seemed to be an eternity, and for Jeff it was rather nerve wracking. However it would not do for him to find a corner to hide in, as his job is to observe, and hiding somewhere won't achieve that. Also the half exposed bridge would be easier to escape in the event of the need to abandon ship, should the worst comes into being.

When the enemy ships were still barely dots on the horizon the captain calmed ordered "Have main batteries fire when ready, and change course to parallel the enemy force."

'Well, that's rather interesting.' Jeff thought to himself just before the cannons fired.

Despite being on the opposite side to where the turret was mounted, everyone on the bridge felt the shock of the guns firing. For a ship displacing a little over 5,000 tonnes three 8in guns do place quite a bit of strain on the hull.

The first salvo, and the few after, had no noticeable effect as far as anyone could tell. The shells made many great splashes but no hits. The enemy fleet has not been idle however, and soon the sea around the elven ships were also chunned with numerous splashes. Jeff almost couldn't help but to facepalm. You can equip them up with modern weapons, but don't actually expect them to use them like they're supposed to. So far the battle feels more akin to a bunch of feral children fling rocks at each other.

"Enemy ships have broken formation." an officer called out. "It appears to be that they have been given the order to charge at our line."

"Good." The admiral responded. "Give the fleet the order to turn for a semi parallel course. Make sure to not open the distance though."

And then Jeff understood. The idea was to force the enemy ships to waste as much of their ammunition as possible while also exhausting their strokers and gunners. He hoped that the elves do remember that many of the human ships were equipped with rams though, and if they weren't careful things might get a bit dicey.

The next few hours fell into a pattern in which the human fleet desperately attempted to close the distance while the elven fleet played the fine line between giving them the faintest of hope while keeping the distances enough to prevent accurate shooting. The rear mounted turret of the Scorpion class cruiser really came in handy as it allowed the elven ships to utilize the bulk of their firepower in a non-battleline situation. Even the shell splashes became rather boring, especially once most ships stopped firing as fast as possible in order to conserve ammunition or letting their gun crews some rest.

Yet it felt all too soon when the smoke from the human ships begin to sputter, an indication of them either running out of coal or far more likely their strokers becoming exhausted.

"Signal the fleet to come about face." The admiral ordered calmly. "Make sure all ships to keep a distance of at least 10 kilometers until further orders are given."

The slaughter was about to begin.

However, because no one has actually had any experience in such a thing the process ended up being rather drawn out and botched all things considered.

Credit to where it's due, the human admiral quickly realized the trap he ran into, and the human ships quickly attempted to disperse, with the cruisers fleeing as fast as they were able while the battleships maneuvered themselves between their fleeing comrades and the elven fleet going in for the kill.

For the most part the elven ships were taking their time, first moving into medium range to unload the remaining 8in shells, and once the upperworks of the enemy ships were deemed to be sufficiently neutralized they began moving closer to bring the 6in and smaller guns to bear. Plunging fire was the order of the day.

Soon the remaining human battleships, despite their inability to fight back effectively by now, simply took on the hailstorm of rounds. Even as their upper works were reduced to flaming wrecks their hulls stood defiantly, as if taunting the elves of their underhanded ways of combat. The human cruisers were less lucky, the few who haven't escaped were quickly sent to the bottom, as they had not the armor unlike the battleships.

It doesn't matter, the modern battlefield has no place for honor, only victory and defeat.

"Hardly sporting." Jeff said, mainly to himself. He has long left the bridge itself, and now standing on the bridge wing looking over the scenes of hulks burning and men drowning, along with a few boats here and there trying to fish out some of the survivors.

"Well, it's not as if they're gonna be any more merciful if the positions were reversed." The captain shrugged, who in the meantime, as the battle was all but over, came out to the bridge wing.

The two were still looking when suddenly a huge plume of fire shot up from one of the elven cruisers.

"What the hell just happened?!?" The captain shouted as she rushed into the bridge. Jeff quickly followed her.

"It's one of the scorpions, the Vladek." One of the officers replied, "a stray shot form one of the enemy ships still resisting, penetrated the turret and probably cooked off the ready ammunition, looks like."

"Well, silence them then." The captain said, "No point in letting them getting lucky a second time."

The pitiful resistance was quickly silenced with a hail of fire, and soon all that's left was to collect the wounded, bury the dead, towed the captured ships, and moving on to the next objective.

The battle might have been won, but the war was far from over.

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 3: motivations​

"Well that was quick." Dag said as he saw Jeff walking towards him. "I didn't expect to see you again until after the war to be honest."

"You stick yourself in a tin can for three months and let's see how you'll perceive them after that." Jeff answered. "And I got lucky, actually you could say the entire imperial navy got lucky, which is why I'm here instead of getting seasick on a boat."

The two of them were at an unnamed encampment on the frontiers, where in the same period of time that Jeff was out on the sea went from some patches of grasses to a massive series of compounds, housing tens of thousands of troops, their weapons, machinery, and all the logistics and supplies that was needed to support a modern army. For all intents and purposes it might as well be a town, it even has its own rail line and station, such was the appetite for supplies.

It was far from the own such encampment, for similar ones sprung up all over the frontier like weeds since the war begin. The imperial state was not taking any chances.

"So what happened?" Dag asked.

"Well, there wasn't much of a fleet left on the side of the Kingdom," Jeff answered, "and the elves got themselves a couple of obsolete hulks. Which is why I'm here now, nothing much else to see at this point out in the sea except for the fish and the odd sea monster."

"Well, it's good to see you still possessing all your body and wits."

"Speaking of which, what happened back on here solid ground?" Now it was Jeff's turn to ask questions.

"Besides the odd patrols taking potshots at each other, nothing." Dag answered, "The Kingdom are already looking for a way out while the elves here are preparing for to strike when they massed sufficient force."

"And what, exactly, is sufficient force in their minds?"

"More golems than you can shake a stick at. These guys are not taking any chances."

"Chances of what?"

"Unlike your little jaunt on the nice boats, prevailing theory on land combat is that things still might get close enough for mind control magic to come into play, and most of the elven high command had read enough erotic literature to know better than to take any chances on that."

"Aren't most of the helmets tin plated these days?" Jeff pointed out, not unreasonably.

"Actually they're moving on to aluminium plating these days. Much better mind control resistant properties." dag said, a hand pointing at the silver metal headband he's wearing. "Doesn't mean you're home free though, close enough and with sufficient power can overcome any passive defenses."

"Hey guys, what's up." Another human voice intruded on the two. Jeff turned around, seeing a middle aged female in a uniform of the Republic of Mundock, though of a type that haven't been in use for decades. However, the thing that caught his attention was not the uniform, but rather the scars on her face.

"Hello Nora." Dag waved at her, confirming Jeff's suspicious. He then turned toward Jeff. "She really helped when she vouched for me to get in here, being that I didn't really have any official papers."

"Wait, did you seriously just expect to just waltz into an armed camp without proper documentation?" Jeff was aghast at the sheer… bimboness of the dragon.

Nora chuckled. "It's quite normal for the aristocracy regardless of race to not really get the more mundane parts of the bureaucracy and how the rest of us rabble work." She turned towards Jeff. "And nice to meet you, I guess you're one of the attachés from the Union?"

"Um, yes. Yes I am." Jeff stuttered. "It's an honor being in the presence of a legend."

"Oh, that's basically ancient history." She shrugged it off, as if almost embarrassed. "Remember we're here to watch a new generation of soldiers coming into age."

"Oh of course, it would be unkind to steal their moment of glory." Dag agreed rather quickly. "If it comes that is, they seems awfully timid all things considered." He flicked a finger at the fields of golems, standing in wait on the fields, waiting with all the patience in the world for the mana crystals that will bring life and purpose to them.

"But why?" Jeff asked. "From all indications, at least all the ones I could see, they have an utterly crushing advantage over the kingdom's military."

"That's because you haven't lived through the old days." Nora said, almost a whisper. "That being said neither have I." She immediately said that in a much more normal volume. "Which is why I'll defer to Dag here."

Dag suddenly looked up. "Whoa whoa whoa, I'm not exactly an historian."

"You're even better, as you're technically a primary source." Nora smiled.

…

"Unfortunately, I'm more of a secondary source at best." Dag said sheepishly.

The three of them had relocated themselves to one of the officers' mess hall, where it was currently serving afternoon tea. While they were the only ones at their particular table, there were a number of elven officers sitting at nearby tables, all pretending to not totally eavesdropping on them.

Well, they're gonna be disappointed as always. No one's ever stupid enough to discuss actual militarily important matters in public like that. Or even social gossip, as the damage from that could potentially be even more severe.

"Again, close enough as you're the only one among us who actually lived through that period of time." Nora assured him, not all that successfully judging by the scowl, but Dag relented quickly anyway.

"Ah shucks, come along children, and gather around for storytime." Dag said, with a voice to match for the first time. Jeff simply stared at him. "I always wanted to say that." Dag grinned.

"Back in the olden days, when I was merely still a mere young one in the hatchery." Dag begin, "It was a simpler time, when the scourge that became known as the isekais first pollute this fair world of ours." He looked at Nora, who had this dangerous grin on her face. "No offense intended" He quickly added, "and please don't kill me and my soul." He said in a much quieter voice.

"No offense taken." Nora replied coyly, which did little to reassure the dragon. But the story must go on.

He gulped and continued. "At that time, the elves did have their native culture, contrary to what later historians would claim. They had agriculture, animal husbandry, pottery, religions, the usual delights of civilization. Then the isekai destroyed all that. No, not the usual raping, pillaging and burning, though there were some of that too. No, what they did was more insidious. It was with the persuasive word that they had the elves to turn back on their civilization, to be remodeled into a hunter-gatherer existence, supposedly illdelic and in harmony with nature. Never mind that nature unaltered is often brutal and nasty."

"You know you could just say 'and they used their mind control powers and their all conquering dicks'." Nora interjected during the lull in Dag's tale. Dag shrugged.

"That doesn't sound appropriate thematically though, and I can't have that in my storytelling." He shot back.

"Fair enough." Nora relented.

"Yet even as they twisted the elven people, they made them love them for it. Much like an abused spouse, the elven people could not even see the reality. It was heartbreaking to see them hurting themselves for their oppressors, all with glazed smile on their faces." He paused, almost certainly for dramatic effect. "And this is why they are on the warpath now."

A silence descended on the mess hall, as even the eavesdroppers were quiet. It just felt befitting the situation. Jeff was the first to break the silence.

"Um, okay…" He begin, "that's quite a bit to take in." A different train of though suddenly occurred to him. "So does that mean that minster Oesa's archaeological expeditions have some merit to them?" He asked.

"Yeah, I guess." Dag shrugged. "Though I seriously doubt they're gonna find an actual water goddess."

"I'm not so sure." Nora said, in a much quieter voice. "Those expeditions had always sounded like a discount Ahnenerbe to be honest." She glanced at the other elven officers in the room. "I'd say this conversation is over."

"Well, it's nice to hear that story from Dag and conversing with you wonderful persons." Jeff said as he stood up. "I do look forward to see the elven imperial army win glorious victories on the battlefield much like their navy has done so far." The last bit was more for everyone else at the mess hall.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 4: On the field of battle​

"Well, this is a bit earlier than I expected." Nora remarked. Watching the battle unfold along with the rest of the attachés and a number of elven military officials in a hill that's located just a bit too far to be convenient, but at least there's plenty of telescopes to go around courtesy of the elven general staff.

Despite the advances during the century, warfare wasn't all that faster as far as strategic mobility was concerned. Once out of the range of the railroads, the armies still mainly relied on foot and hoof, as even the elves cart around their golems in wagons, their mana reserves weren't that limitless.

Such it was the ponderousness of these armies that it wasn't difficult for both sides to figure out where the others were, and when both sides actually met each other it was at a place where neither really wanted to fight.

"What do you mean by earlier?" Dag asked. Due to the shape of his head he was the only one present who couldn't use the field telescopes being provided. "It's only mid morning, the perfect time to start a battle from what I been told."

"Not the time of the day, the tech and doctrine level." Nora said, more to herself than replying to Dag. "Post cavalry armored thrusts for breakthrough purpose shouldn't really occur for another decade at least, not until the internal combustion engine becomes more mature."

And yet it was happening right before their eyes as the formations of three meter high golems, armed with machine guns and light cannons, lumbered forward, meeting the volleys of bullets as if walking through light summer rain. Where they point their guns hundreds were cut down, much akin to syncthing through ripe grain.

Suddenly one of the golem blew up, literally. Unfortunately they're not immune against the king of the battlefield.

"Damn it, they're getting too far to see anything useful." Jeff muttered.

"I got an idea. We can take to the skies." Dag suggested.

"Um… As far as I know, neither Jeff nor I have enough mana or magical skills to fly." Nora said.

"I, carrying both of you, of course." Dag said, almost proud of himself.

"Questions of etiquette aside, and there are many." Jeff begin, having stopped looking into his telescope. "Could you even lift an additional one hundred fifty some kilos?"

"Worry not, I have taken plenty of wing enhancement pills and exercises." Dag seems to be rather smug, while Nora, who by this time has also stopped looking into her telescope, simply facepalmed.

"Okay, so even assuming that you can. Wasn't carrying lesser creatures like us something beneath the dignity of your kind?" Jeff asked the obvious question.

"Well, dragon slayer lady gets a pass for her combat prowess, and you're her flunky for the purpose of this, unless you wish to pass on this opportunity." Dag was already stretching his wings, and fully extended they do look impressive, and Jeff swore that he even saw a faint glow on them.

"Okay, I'm in." Nora said, without a further thought of doubt, though a slightly annoyed look remained on her face at his mentioning of her underserved nickname.

"Guess I'm also in then." Jeff said, with a slight more reluctance.

……

Even though heavier than air machines were still barely concepts and lighter than air machines something to be kept far away from the frontlines, the skies above the battlefield were far from empty, as the elven army also had their share of witch scouts. For the most part they left the dragon and two humans, a female on his back and a male in his arms, alone. Although a few were tailing them for whatever reason.

The carnage continues unabated below them as tens of thousands of soldiers on both sides maneuver and fire at each other while cannons pounded anything that vaguely resembled a threat.

More specifically, it appeared that the golem assault had been stalled by some rather accurate fire from the human artillery. A number of small groups of elven soldiers, carrying mortars and their support equipment, were scurrying forward.

"Looks like their colonial mentality is biting them in the arse hard." Nora casually remarked while looking at the developing battlefield through a pair of binoculars.

"Explain please." Dag said, while keeping his eyes and focus towards not crashing into one of the witches and avoid the occasional stray shot.

"The Confederation, and later the Imperial State, never had to fight a peer power or really anybody of note before." Nora begin to explain, "and quite frankly much of what you see down there is basically a large number of LARPers facing reality for the first time, lead by bookworms and armchair generals with only theories as guides. The South Continent never really need much in the way of defense given the lack of natives there, and a couple of golems plus a gaggles of cosplayers is enough to hold a county."

"So things are not going well for them then?" Jeff asked.

"Well, it's not as if the opposition appears to be any better." Nora remarked. "Which is almost sad considering this new modern army of theirs is supposed to have been the result of taking lessons from their previous defeats, such as the Mountain Wars." Alluding to the series of conflicts that netted a number of dragon principalities the great Northern Mountains.

"The terrain's hardly the same though." Dag commented. "Mountains were a great place to negate firepower and mobility." Talking about it brought up memories of the Third Mountain War, even though he was never near the frontlines. It was the last war in which direct non-combat magic made a major difference, and although few dragons were hit with the humanization beam, the effects were still shocking to the core. He suppressed a shutter.

"They still are." Nora said, already moving her attention back to the battle at hand.

The elven mortar teams had closed in the distances, and were now lobbing rounds at the general direction of the human artillery positions. They didn't cause much in the way of damage even though the artillery positions were mostly exposed, being that no one had any time to dig in fortifications, but they were effective in suppressing them and preventing them from continuing their bombardment.

That was enough of an opening, and the golems resumed their advance. More infantry poured in behind them, including a large number of troops who only appeared to carry ammunition and mana crystals to resupply the golems.

It was the breaking point, and soon the human army was in full rout, only saved from total annihilation by the inability of the elven army to give chase.

By the time the attachés landed the field was already filled with spontaneous celebrations, a mistake that would have been otherwise rather costly if it weren't for the fact that the opposition was too busy running away from there.

For a baptism of fire, the imperial army performed well enough, but all of the führer Amberea's boasting they still have a long ways to go…

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 5: Siege and the legend from history (discount version)​

The city was in flames, and about time too. The siege of Ironten, capital of the Kingdom of the Wolf, was well on its way into its fourth month. It shouldn't have to be like this, for the imperial army expects the city (and the rest of the kingdom for that matter) to simply capitulate in the face of the hopelessness of their situation. However, there was still a remnant of an army, and the war continued.

Of course, it wouldn't have been a siege in the first place if it weren't for the small oversight in the imperial army in their lack of heavy field artillery. In the beginning they were able to use the captured pieces from the previous battles, but the stocks of ammunitions soon ran out and much of the inner walls of the city still stood. Thus the camping out and wait for the city to surrender, or the heavy artillery to arrive by rail (which now someone finally built it far enough to support the advancing army), whichever one happens first. Occussionaly the scout witches made flights over the besieged city, at first to drop lelfets urging the inhabitants to surrender, but soon give up on that and switched to dropping grenades in a rather primitive form of terror bombing.

In in the grand traditions of besieging armies the imperial army does what was expected it to do: namly sit on its arse and twiddle their thumbs. However unlike many of the past wars this time around the besiegers have the luxury of steady supply lines, as the engineers had been working nonstop to repairing and extending existing rail networks, of which both sides had immediately destroyed sections of during the opening weeks of the war.

But while the age old horrors of diseases and privations of the a besieging army camp was mostly banished, the other problem of borderom was still alive and well.

"What, exactly, am I looking at?" Dag asked, to no one in particular.

The three of them attachés were a little aways from the camp, still far outside the effective range of the walls of the besieged city itself. A fair distance away was a number of elven engineers and mages, presumably from a division of the South Continent judging their physical appearances and uniforms. They appeared to be working on a massive contraption of some sort, far larger than an golem or land vehicle.

"Beats me, it'll give a spectacular showing, at least that's what they claimed." Jeff shrugged.

"Well, this is probably the last period in the tech timeline where field modifications were competitive vis a vis lab innovations." Nora remarked. "But regardless I have my doubts on the variability of that… contraption."

And there were a lot of things to be worried about the construct taking place, which appears to look like a cross between a torture device and a piloted golem if it was made by a five year old. Mana crystals shackled in chains were strewn around without a care in aesthetics or common sense.

"Well, whatever the heck it is it look like it's ready." Dag said.

As an engineer among them give the thing a last whack with his wrench for good luck, the work crew retreated a good distance away from their work and a witch of the south continent, clad in very little even by the standards of the elves, climbed onto the thing. At least she was wearing an aluminium headband, would not be good if the enemy pulled a mind control hijack on that thing.

As the newly minted 'piloted' strapped into the thing it started to levitate, first the crystals starting to glow as mana was drawn from them, then the protrusions, made of steel and plated in tin, possibly with a hint of silver (though how did a bunch of engineers and mages have gotten their hands on that much precious metals was something no one wanted to ask) begin to glow as well.

Sudden, beams of what appeared to be pure light shot out of those protrusions, crossing the distances and crashing into the city walls in the blink of an eye. Simultaneously, the contraption lost its own glow and crashed into the ground in a suitable loud cloud of dust.

While the ground crew rushed to dig out the pilot the three attachés simply stared between the ruin of the experiment and the walls, which seems not much worse for wear barring some chipped paint. Nora was the first to recover her voice.

"Well, at least it was a fabulous display." She remarked as the crew managed to pull out the hapless witch, who besides being covered in dust and grim seems little worse for wear.

"Looks like they're gonna have to find another way to breach the walls." Jeff pointed out the obvious.

------

In the end, the walls were breached with a rather mundane method with little fanfare: sappers lashing and detonating a bunch of unused (and given the nature of the conflict by that point, seemly useless) mines directly underneath a section of the wall. It was an ancient trick with a rather modern twist, but it worked all the same.

With a gaping hole thus opened, the assault begins. Or it was supposed to have been, when the impossible happened. The much vaulted elven imperial army, forged from a people whipped into a frenzy from over a decade of propaganda and revanchism, balked.

Ironically, it wasn't the natives of the Old Continent, who made up of bulk of the professional troops. They simply obeyed their order with the professionalism expected of them. It was the native militia units of the South Continent who staunchly refused to go charging into the city. Such was the fear of the isekai and the horror stories of their powers and atrocities once the range closed that the mere chance of coming into contact with any of them, aluminium plated helmets or not, was simply too much of a risk to even be considered. In a sense they too were the victims of their government's propaganda, who had long since painted the human isekais from the other side as more akin to demons from the stuff of nightmares.

So it came to be that it was the tip of the spear that went in, generously supported by golems along with questionable air support from the witches (who haven't gotten any more accurate despite having what amounts to months of live training). Meanwhile the rest of the army was sitting outside, twiddling their thumbs and trying to cover up their cowardence with the thin pretense of watching the flanks while the real army was in the thick of fighting.

It was just so convenient that around the same time the rest of the human empire's military arrived.

Of course, much like a certain war from almost a century ago, when the Lasce Imperial state declared war against the Kingdom of the Wolf it immediately drew in the rest of the Empire of all Mankind. Also similar to that other the larger size problem was ignored in favored of dealing with the more relevant matter at hand. The major difference was that this time around, the dismissal of the threat was based on contempt rather than on ignorance.

It wasn't as if the elves were that wrong though.

"Whoa, looks like something straight out of the history books." Jeff remarked at the sight of the human empire's army, of the knights in their finery, the adventurers in their expensive and game breaking gear, the mages in their mysterious robes.

Once again, the three non-elf persons were sited a bit behind the elven field, watching the coming battle from a safe but still useful distance away.

"More like second rate cosplay if you ask me." Nora muttered, and the other two had to remind themselves that she had actually seen those types of armies in the flesh before.

"In what sense exactly?" Dag risked a potentially obvious question.

"Look at their gear, especially the adventurers." Nora answered. "They're not rare epic gear, or even alleged ones. Those are most likely mass produced generic weapons where appearance is by far more important than substance.

Both Dag and Jeff were about to ask additional questions when they were interrupted by the explosions of the mortars, which during their conversation they managed to miss the firing of those weapons. The rounds exploded with reasonably loud explosions, but it might as well being akin to throwing rocks into a river for all the damage it cause. As if on cue the human army charged.

Then the machine guns fired.

The result was sheer butchery. Horses, men, other miscellaneous beasts of war, it matters not as the hailstorms of lead cut them down. Then abruptly, it stopped, as suddenly as it had begun those short moments prior.

Then the elves infantry, their bayonets already, raised a great shout and charged forward.

Such insanity would have never worked against a contemporary army, but the opposing army was contemporary in any sense except perhaps in the temporal sense. It was quickly over and what few humans left fled in all directions as quickly as they could.

Then the looting begin.

……

'They're only a generation removed from pre-agricultural existence.' Jeff kept reminding himself as he walked through the orgy of looting and killing of wounded, the latter mostly dispatched without mercy or pity as the elves were in the mood for either.

For the most part, discipline and cohesion had broken down as the elven militias took out the time to pick up some souvenirs. Leaving the pitiful remnants of the empire forces to scatter into the winds.

A nearby elven rifleman, who mistaken the attaché's facial expressions for that of regret, handed him one of the daggers she picked up. "There might be rule against you taking part in our war," She said, "but surely there's no rule against accepting a gift."

Before he could reply the soldier already left, looking for the next hapless target to strip it of anything valuable.

He looked at the dagger. Nora was correct, it was a cheap, mass produced dreck. He then noticed some small engraved letters.

'Genuine orc slayer dagger, perfect for every noble adventurer. Made in Axeon' It read.

Oh, how far has the noble have fallen, to be forced to equip themselves with cheap trinkets and scams by their very enemies.

He sighed, and turned back towards the elven camp.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 6: a Ruin called peace​

As far as peace treaties and annexations go, it was rather subdued and low key all things considered. Especially given how much the elves loved to insert pomp into everything, even in situations that were not wholly appropriate.

Instead, the final signing of the annexation, taking place at the burned out husk of the palace formerly known as the Wolf's Den, had the atmosphere of the morning after an out of control party: the sullen lifeless husks of people, the general feeling of awkwardness among those present, and the general washed-out-ness of everything from people to the scenery (that haven't been blow up or burned).

Then again, it's good to remind those who lead their country's youth to die a measure of pain and suffering that those went through, especially of all the voiceless ones who were now nourishing the worms and the grass.

"Well, looks like that's the end of that." Jeff remarked at the proceedings, which was at the stage where the diplomats and other relevant persons sign a book's worth of documents, formalizing the official annexation of the Kingdom of the Wolf into the Lasce Imperial State, which effectively had double the latter's core territories almost overnight, the amount of industrial assets within the new conquest also didn't hurt.

What does hurt was the amount of people who were less than happen at the change ownership in the real estate, and they happened to do something about it.

Another explosion rumbled in the distance. No one at the ceremony even looked up.

"Welp, looks like them freedom fighters are already getting into the rhyme of things." Nora muttered sarcastically. One of the elves present shot her an ugly look. She merely shrugged, her being at the age where she couldn't care less about the opinion of others, whether it's from persons, deities, or even countries.

To make things worse, there wasn't enough troops for a decent occupation. With the declaration of the ceasefire some months back the South Continent militias took it as their cue to demobilize and getting the hell out of there (but not before looting everything that wasn't nailed down, and even some things that were, such was their quest to grab some soveriner to show for their efforts to their folks back home. The adventurer mentality lives on even in the age of industrial warfare). It was telling that the military attachés present (off in a corner) were allowed to carry their sidearms at the signing, less due to trust and more due to the inability for the elves or the humans to provide even a token protection.

So much for finishing what they started, but then, even in another world many still believed that the mission is accomplished when the ink dried on the paper.

"Well, on the plus side, if it could really be called as such, this is gonna keep them busy for a while." Jeff remarked. "Especially if the earlier wars were any indication."

"Which sadly it appears that the imperial state has learned none of it." Dag said, shaking his head.

"No surprise, counterinsurgency tend to be rather unsexy and ugly. No surprise that no one in the multiverse really like studying it for too long." Nora answered.

"Same problem in your original world too?" Jeff asked.

"Pretty much, unless one of them are actually fighting one they tend to pretend it doesn't exist." Nora sighed. The invisible and insidious enemy is the hardest of them all to comprehend, which is why no one really wants to think about them unless forced to, for better or worse.

"An unrelated thought perhaps, but this is going to retard development in the human empire for decades, if not more." Dag suddenly said.

"Well, losing the bulk of their industries is a big hit, though it's not an insurmountable problem." Nora pointed out, "Also unlike a certain war that this one seems to be a parallel to, the Imperial State didn't ask for indemnities." Not that they're in a position to, she thought to herself, they simply do not have the strength left to force the issue.

"No no, it's not the material stuff that really matters." Dag shook his head. "For decades all of us at the other side of the borders have harped on them to change their ways and join us as a modern, civilized country, and they tried their damndest to reform. Now with this little war the elves have just threw all that into the trash bin, in effect telling them that no matter what they do, they'll never been taken as part of the wider community. Don't be surprised if there's a massive backlash against reform and progress in the rest of the human empire in the aftermath of this."

The two humans were stunned, it never occurred to them the long term impact from a cultural point of view.

"Well, shit." Was all Jeff could say, which rather sums up the situation well enough.

 

[John_Oakman]

(370s S.E.)

The face of actual chaotic evil​

"I have to protest, it is not necessary for you good people to be here." Assistant manager Raken protested, to little avail, as the troops disembark from their train cars. "We are following all regulations from the colonial office." At least all the actually useful ones, he thought to himself. Sometimes he felt that the peoples back home trust them less than the damn ratlings and the ogres. Especially the damn isekais communities, that lot of hypocrites them all.

"That's not the problem here, madam." Lieutenant Asckot assured him, to similarly little avail. He understood the concerns of the inhabitants of the booming mining town of Dummington. Things were already on the edge without a sudden influx of a few hundred soldiers. Then again, things were always on the edge in these frontier towns on the harsh and unforgiving continent of Ironi. Everything, from heavy equipment to every last drop of water and grain of food had to be shipped in from the coast, to be paid in the sweat, blood, and toil of the miners scrabbling in the rich veins of ore and minerals. All this, once past the coast, was done almost solely by the railroads, which by their sheer importance quickly gain a semi-legendary status. Perhaps it was the miners being overly melodramatic, but then again living on a continent that hostile tend to make people go cray cray after a while…

But regardless, it's generally not a good sign when a bunch of soldiers suddenly made an unscheduled stopover, especially given that the timestable in which almost all goods and services adhere to is everything, including matters of life and death.

However, they're here and now, and after some more fruitless arguing Raken accept the inevitable and let the soldiers to continue their disembarking and setting up of their camp. That brought upon another series of problems as open spaces within the walled town was scarce to say the least. At least she managed to found out the reason for the soldiers' appearance at this otherwise unremarkable town. It merely confirmed the worst fears.

The rumors of neighboring towns suddenly losing all contact, as if suddenly disappearing off the face of the world, was in fact them being completely destroyed. The soldiers for the most part seemed to be always one step behind the trail of destruction… until here and now.

Well, the next few days will be certainly interesting, whatever happens, and something will certainly happen, that was certain on the continent of Ironi.

------

"Well, well, well. Looks like some good business is coming our way." Gak'Numen, the owner of one of the few stores in town, remarked at the sight of all the soldiers setting up their tents wherever there's open space and in general milling around with seemly no particular direction in mind. Then again, there's isn't much to see or do inside the walls and nothing at all, except for suffering and death, outside of it.

"While soldiers and alcohol does compliment each other like fish and water, we don't actually sell any of those, given he have no licence and all. Not to mention we'll never compete against all the saloons even if we do have a licence." Kile Bomen, the one assistant in the store, pointed out the obvious.

They were an interesting pair, a dragon and a human running a general store in a mining town composed almost entirely of orcs, heck, a dragon running something as small and mundane as a general store was already crazy enough. Then there's the human bard, or rather a failure of one, as it turns out that tastes in music tend to be a fickle thing, and not learning the current fad means the need to find other types of employment in the meantime.

"They're gonna stay for more than a couple of days, and that means they'll need some cure for hangovers when their officers crack the whip." Gak said slyly. "That's how we're gonna profit off of them."

"True." Kile nodded, seeing the logic in Gak's reasoning.

------

Night soon fell upon the continent, and the all encroaching darkness wrapped itself around all, making the already forbidding lands even more unwelcome. The town of Dummington stood alone, as if a tiny speck of light in a dark continent.

However, just because it was dark does not mean it was quiet. The coming of the night brings out all the nightlife that nature has to offer, in all of its savagery and splendor. Cloaked in the natural darkness the full cruelty of nature on the Ironi continent does it's expected, of death, suffering, nourishment, and life.

For the soldiers manning the other barricades, it was an unnerving but not unexpected experience, for waiting was the main part of every soldier's life.

At around midnight, the noise started to die off, little by little, an unnatural silence descend upon the surroundings of the town. The soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons, and pointed them at the darkness.

The enemy has arrived.

Contrary to what many future historial works claimed, the ratling attacks were not merely one of onrushing mobs, literal waves of bodies outnumbering the bullets fired against them. Oh there were plenty of them rushing forward, carrying no weapons barring their sharp claws and teeth, as if offering themselves up to quick and pointless deaths in the face of breech loading rifles. However, there is a purpose, for every one of them that grabbed the attention of the defenders meant another three follow a distances behind carrying bows and slings, cloaked in the all prevailing darkness.

Soon the defenders were forced to seek cover as a shower of arrows and stones descend on the barricades, there was simply too many, and too fast, for the defenders to kill enough before their range units closed the distance. With the defenders' firepower advantage somewhat suppressed (though still extracting a horrifying harvest of ratlings), the next stage of their assault began.

Then the ogres arrived. Eight of them carrying a log whose size even dwarf them. They barreled straight towards the front gate, and there seemed to be nothing between them and their singular goal of seeking the death and destruction of everything else within the town.

Before they could crash the gate though, it opened up from the inside. For a brief moment another silence descend on the town and its surroundings, as both sides take stock of the situation.

Out from the opened gates walked out a dragon, carrying an interesting metal contraption, and a human, carrying a guitar. A distant sound of a palm hitting a face could be heard from the barricades, the commanding officer presumbing that the two had lost their minds.

Then the flames spew forth from the dragon, not from his mouth, but from the contraption. Gak somehow had a flamethrower. At the same time Kile drove straight into an powerful and energetic song (which any isekai would have recognize as 'Through the Fire and Flames', if there were any at Dummington).

The two of them quickly carved out a path through the ravaging hordes of ratlings, and even the ogres flinched away from the fire of the flamethrower. The returning arrows and rocks bounced off Gak like a summer rain, it was as if nothing could stop them.

Then the flamethrower sputtered and died. It was hardly a couple of minutes in passing. Another moment of silence descends upon the battlefield, but this much much shorter as the horde almost immediately jumped forth. Soon the two appeared to have been buried in a mountain of bodies. As the defending orcs finally got around to close the gates a massive explosion rocked in the midst of the horde. Seems that Gak had one last surprise in store.

The opening was all that the defenders needed, and by the time ratling horde returned their attention back they were met with a wall of rifle fire. This time the defenders, now joined by the townspeople with whatever arms they had, were far more selective in their fire, targeting the bowmen and slingers first. Now it was the time for the ratlings to be suppressed, if they were capable of caring about getting hit by fire.

Soon, almost unexpectedly, the horde broke and ran, retreating back to the endless darkness in which they had spew forth so little while ago. For all the rhetoric and appearance about them, they weren't actually mindless, and the intelligence governing them knows when to the prize was not worth the cost anymore.

Thus the battle was over, and Dummington lived to see another day. The same could not have been said to the dozens of orc soldiers, handful of townsfolks, and hundreds of ratlings that littered the land surrounding the town.

------

"Seems a bit wrong to defile his place so soon after his heroic sacrifice." Lieutenant Asckot remarked as he stepped into the general store along with Raken. It was the morning after and life goes on, with a few extra bits of work such as tending to the wounded, burying the bodies, and repairing damages to the barricades and buildings. No one in the town was under any delusions that the previous night was the end of their worries, the hordes always come back, so long as there's prizes worth to be taken.

"Save that thinking for the living, the dead can make do without their possessions." Raken shot back wearily. "Life out here is too harsh for such niceties of civilization."

"Agreed, now will you please get the hell out of my store unless you're willing to pay for the merchandise?" A deep voiced growled. They two orcs turned, and there was Gak, covered in soot and somewhat worse for wear, and Kile, whose guitar was nowhere in sight, and also quite a bit worse for wear. Asckot was the first to recover his voice.

"I… we, thought, you were dead!" He stammered. "When you blew yourself up."

"I can fly you know?" Gak rolled his eyes. "Dying in glorious battle sounds great and all, but I rather prefer to be the ones writing about that happening to other rather than experiencing it myself."

Then again, it's not as if a flying dragon would be all that noticeable in the aftermath of the explosion, given that said explosion had probably also destroyed everyone's night vision. Asckot remembered now. Seems reasonable enough…

"With all that being said," Gak continued, "I'm perfectly willing to sell my store for a reasonable price, with an additional condition."

"Oh really?" Raken was more than a bit skeptical. "And that is?"

"That Kile and I will leave with the troopers when the muster out." Gak answered. "The romanicatism of this continent seems to be a load of hogwash and humbug."

 

[John_Oakman]

(370s S.E.)

This wretched yet beautiful land​

The wagon lurched again as it hit yet another hole in the dirt road, which it being the raining season it's closer to say that it's closer to a stream of mud. The constant overcast, when it's not drizzling painfully cold rain, gives the land an overall sense of sorrow, as if the weather itself could not make the effort to pick one or the other, sunny or full downpour.

Bruce Tammoth grabbed the blanket closer, huddling in the front of the wagon while trying to maintain control of the wagon, the back of which being piled high with various knick knacks. Officially, he was a simple traveling merchant from the Republic of Setwood, about the few countries that the remaining kingdoms within the Empire of All Humans were willing to deal with in any capacity, a generally desperate attempt to ignore the changing balance of power and influence on the continent. But none of that matters to Bruce, since officially or unofficially, geopolitics were none of his business.

The real reason, the supposed unofficial reason, that he was now traveling through this undeveloped and unforgiven land, was to simply observe and record. It was a rather alien concept even as late as a few decades back, to simply bear witness to the world.

But the world was changing, at a pace much faster than the centuries and millenniums past, and moreover there was an awareness of it. Thus it came to be of a scrambling to record as much of a world of the old before it disappears into the sands of time. While the orcs, or more accurately their human isekai communities, were the most interested in such studies, practical concerns mean that they were also the last people who want to step into the heart of the human kingdoms.

Thus it came to be that through a number of proxies and intermediates, a human descendant of one of the former inhabitants (and later refugees) from the Kingdom of the Ram now goes back to a land he has no attachments towards except for a name, if even that.

Finally what appears to be a stone tower came up in the distance, he hoped that the ancient map he's holding (actually a faithful reproduction, the good orc archaeologists would never part with any originals) was good enough. It had been almost useless so far, but then again cartography was more of an art than science back then.

------

The village of Woolville was, in all respects, ordinary. That is, merely another example of the crushing poverty and backwardness that the majority of the humans still lived in. Besides the church, which along with the manor house were the only structures constructed of stone, the rest of the dozen or so huts were made out of wattle and daub.

While the buildings themselves were cheerless and drab, the same could not be said for the village as a whole. Despite all the visible signs of what he would consider to be soul crushing poverty, life goes on, as does the enjoyment of it. The gardens were blooming with vegetables, flowers decorated many of the dwellings. He had to keep reminding himself that he's watching real people living out their lives, and not just a collection of prejudices cooked up by the orcs and their isekais, who obviously (if not reasonably) had their agenda coloring their perception.

The villagers greeted him with a measure of suspicion, unsurprising since for small villagers, outsiders unaffiliated with the proper higher authorities tend to be bad news in general, whether intentional or unintentional. After all, plague and gossip tend to travel along with the fastest carriers, when those carriers themselves weren't scheming evil on their own. However, his dialect, even though it was generations removed, was enough to gain their trust, or at least their begrudging tolerance.

------

Business for a traveling merchant stopping at Woolville was disappointing, which probably explained why besides a fake such as Bruce there hasn't been at this village for decades. It was telling just how poverty stricken the town was such that it doesn't even have a windmill or a waterwheel, despite the town being near a river and possessing a number of hills nearby (although the estate of the lord itself does have a small windmill, it appears that the lord does not see fit to share such a feature with the common rabble).

For the most part, the villagers has neither the coin (or even in kind) to buy anything of note, nor the time to be away from the ceaselessness of the toil in the fields. If nothing else, the only thing abundant around these parts seemed to be suffering.

… and life, ironically. There were scores of children, even before counting the teens who were toiling right alongside their adult counterparts in the fields. Many of these younglings, especially the males, were often seen in the village square, playing at being adventurers and heroes. Out here, far away from the frontiers of the human kingdoms and where the horrors and dangers of the others being merely stories told around the fire, the splendor of the hero and the adventure has not yet lost their appeal.

The poor, deluded fools.

But fools they (and the rest of the villagers too for that matter) might be, those paths are something that they take very seriously. In fact, it was one of the few things to be hopeful about in the village, that their sons might someday go forth, slay the evils, and bring back honor and glory to the rest of the village.

Regardless, what little they have they had to spare they spent it on equipping up and coming adventurers, mainly buying weapons from the Bruce. The orc slaying daggers were a popular item, though the villagers themselves wouldn't know that those were merely being mass produced dreck of stamped iron being of little practical value if anyone would ever be stupid enough to fight against an orc in one… but they don't need to know that.

It was almost painful for Bruce to scam these naive people out of their last coin, but he has to keep up his supposed appearance, as not doing so may cost him his very life… people don't like being lied to, among other things, and forgiveness tend to be almost solely in the domain of the divine and immortal. Besides, what right does he have in disabusing them of the last of what little happiness they have, the final hopes and dreams? To tell them that all they're doing is to send their sons out to die in meaningless death? That the evils they seek to destroy are impossibly powerful for them to even scratch the surface of?

------

During his short stay at the village Bruce managed to witness one wedding. It was one of the few times when the entire village could gather and make merry, to break from the dull and monotonous of the unceasing toil and labor. The occasion was only slightly marred by the lord asserting the ancient right of prima nocta as afforded to all nobility of all these civilized lands.

Well, it's none of Bruce's business to question the traditions of lands that he being then a guest at.

------

The weather was better as he left the village than when he entered it, being merely heavily overcast rather than actively raining. As a merchant, he about broke even in theory, given that most of his costs will be reimbursed by a certain anthropologist society. As a person bearing witness to a soon to be disappeared form of living? Well, he was glad to be out of there. The villagers might be content with their brutal and toiling existence, but that contentness being derived from a profound sense of ignorance and brokenness. In fact, Bruce couldn't wait to see the day when the end of the old order reaches even as far as Woolville, and the villagers, or their descendants, finally being liberated from their eternal suffering.

Yet for all that, there is a sense of beauty and simplicity in their innocence, of one of the few places still untouched by a world increasingly marching towards a very different direction.

Oh well, can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

 

[John_Oakman]

(Late 390s S.E.)

When the wackos are right

part 1​

The first noise that came out of officer Potams's mouth when he found the blue haired naked elf lying in a clearing deep in the tropical forest was a barely suppressed groan. Yet another case of drunkenness or something equally stupid, among the tourists and now the Mandarin Island Police Department is now once again picking up the pieces.

Mandarin island, part of the Orange island chains, the last group of islands before bumping into the continent of Ironi. The location and climate made the chain of islands the perfect place for everything supporting the endless maws of mining needs, from growing the fruits with their much needed nutrients to being the vacation spot for all the inhabitants of that continent who wishes to escape from that living hell (if only for an all too brief while). There were even some manufacturing going on, though mostly of the military type as it being far enough aways from the old continent and all their prying eyes.

As such, all kinds of weird and disreputable stuff happens, not helped by the fact that the islands were for the most part under the ownership of the Tomson-Palmer Conglomerate, which means a lot of stuff tends to be swept under the carpet if for no other reason than it'll reflect badly on the tourist trap image they're trying to build. He signed. No identification in sight, which means more paperwork and bullshit while trying to figure out things such as who the hell she is and who to contact to pick her up.

The elf begin to stir, and Potam cleared his throat. "Excuse me mam, this is the MIPD…"

The elf was in visible confusion, then she noticed him, and a wave of horror slowly formed across her face.

Potam continued his seemly futile attempt to calm the elf down. "The police is here, you will be in safe hands…"

She bolted, and like most elves she was fast. He sighed, this has all the hallmarks of something really ugly.

Well, time to end this fast, and he unslung his shotgun, popped in a net round and a tranquilizer round. Sometimes one has to do unpleasant things to others for their own good…

------

"So you think slaver gangs are operating here?" Chief Umek asked. The two were sitting in his office, after Potam's return with the unexpected subject, who by this point has been put in one of the rooms in the victim's quarters.

"Given the behavior of the captured specimen here, more specifically her behavior, I have to say that appears to be the case." Potam was insistent. "She appears to have no knowledge of our society and its workings, suggesting that she has not have any prior contact with it or being kept away from it."

"Decent analysis… for a beginner" Umek remarked, "but you're missing a few points. Namely that from even a cursory glance so far there are no physical signs of injury, no branding, no collars or any other attachments of those nature. The preliminary magi report also came back clean, so probably no signs of mind control or break. That doesn't sound like any escaped slave I ever heard."

"So what the heck is it then?" Potam asked, the wind taken out of his big idea.

"It's a mystery, which is why we're going to do all we can." Umek seems a bit smug, "The port authorities have already been alerted and been advised to be on the lookout for suspicious activities, as are the corporate goons. Also I asked the local branch of the Bureau of Exotic Affairs to come and take a look."

"What? Those loons?" Potam was visibly confused. "What do those idiots over at the Lost Bureau have anything to do with this? What we have here is obviously an issue purely of this world."

"Well, they're the closest group of loons on these islands, I believe the current crisis over at Ironi has been taken the majority of everyone else's attention. Rumor has it that some of those ratlings have somehow acquired their own ironclads, among other disturbing happenings."

------

As Jane came out of her blackout she found herself in a clean but very spartan furnished room. She was lying on a simple cot but no blankets, there was a desk and a couples of chairs in a corner, both seems to be made of hardwood, as was the bed frame itself (the mattress on top seems to be of the standard spring kind). The room has a single highset window as well as a door. Interestingly enough there are nothing that was made of glass or could be made into a rope. Whoever designed and furnished this room has certainly thought out how to prevent someone from escaping… or committing suicide.

The signs are not exactly encouraging. One doesn't need to read any hentai to know what some of their most popular cliches are, especially with the feedback loop it had with the rise of neo-misogyny in the early 21st century…

… but then again, she's not on planet earth anymore isn't she? That huge orc was probably the first indication, if that wasn't simply the product of her imagination… was she dreaming? Is she still in this nightmare? What the heck is going on?

She looked around some more, then noticing a neatly pile of clothing near one corner of the bed, realizing her still state of undress she took the clothing. It was a simple t shirt and pair of shorts, as well as a pair of loafers. The clothing seems to be rather on the flimsy side, seems that whoever's in charge of the place is really dead set on preventing escapes or suicides, or in all likelihood a serial rapist and sadist. Both seems equally likely at this point. But clothes are still clothing, and any covering is better than none.

As she put the clothes on she then finally noticed the difference to her body, or at least noticed it in a conscious way. After all, long silky blue hair is something hard to miss, but on the flip side it is also not very important in a life or death situation.

......

She was still in her thoughts when someone knocked on the door. "Mam, we got a couple of guys from the BEA here to help you." A rather deep voice said, rather apologetically, "If you're can allow us to come in we can sort out all this."

"Y..yes." Was all she could meekly blurt out. What choice does she really have?

The door slowly opened, revealing the terrifying sight of a trio of orcs, except the sight is more bizarre than anything else. There was the orc in what appears to be a military uniform of some kind, the same one who was chasing her earlier… how long ago was that? How much time has passed already? Doesn't matter now does it? Meanwhile the other two were wearing loud and bright shirts and shorts, one of them carrying a notepad and a pen.

Well, this moved straight from hentai to the twilight zone.

One of the non-uniformed orcs begin to speak. "Allow us to introduce ourselves, I'm Dumens, head of the Orange Islands branch of the Bureau of Exoitc Affairs." He pointed a thumb at the orc next to him, "This is Knomes, my flunky… I mean, assistant. Cop in the back is Potam, not really important." The police officer was visibly annoyed after hearing that, but made no motion in particular. "If you feel that you are up to the task we can start the questions."

Jane nodded, still too stunned to say anything. Dumens then begin the questioning.

"Well, since you seems to be capable of understanding us, we can assume that you speak Anglish. So moving on, what is your country of origin?"

"America." She said, then saw that they're expecting more. "United States of." Dumens nodded, and Knomes jotted something on his notebook. "Can you get me back home?" She asked, daring to hope for the first time since being in this place.

"No can do." Dumens answered, immediately dashed her hopes. "Nobody found a way yet, and people have been trying for centuries." Seeing her crestfallen face, he tried to comfort her like he learned as part of dealing with newly sent isekais. "There are many like you in this world, and they have recreated many cherished parts of it, for better or worse." And as usual, it didn't seem to help all that much, well, the questions must go on. "What was the year you were in before ending up here?"

"2018, August 12th. CE" She wondered what will they do with all this pointless trivia, since it had been made obvious for a while that they're not on planet earth.

"Hmm, seems the newest one so far." Dumens muttered, then returning to the task at hand. "What was the president of your country in the year 1997 Common Era…"

And so the questions continued for hours, with breaks in between, including a break for tea. Interestingly enough not that there being such a thing as tea in this world, but rather the concept of iced tea and moreover various citrus flavored sweetened iced tea. Actually, barring the weird nonhumans and the lack of electronics, the world seems almostly oddly familiar in many respects. Of course it's silly to start drawing conclusions from such scant evidence but such was human nature.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Dumens finally said, signaling the end of the questioning. "The BEA will make further arrangements for your life in this world." He said as he stood up to leave.

"And of course, we'll bring you some sturdier clothes." Potam spoke for the first time since entering the room, almost sheepishly, "You appears to be in no danger of escaping or attempting suicide. Oh, a few other things. The bathrooms and showers for non-personnel are down the hall, I'll get you some toiletries. If you need any food just ask one of us and we'll get some from outside. And one last thing." He paused for a moment. "Don't freak out at the dragon in the courtyard with his swamp cat, he's a fellow officer and you can trust him with your life."

……

"Well this is interesting." Knomes remarked. The two BEA officers were strolling down the streets of Bluntville, the sun well on its way to set and the nightlife was already breaking out in places.

"That's a mild way to put it." Dumens said, "This might be the first case where an isekai jumped species while jumping worlds."

"Wonder how the main office back home will receive this."

"Probably sell her down the river to the scientists, those guys are spineless."

"So you're not gonna write a report?"

"Not until it's too late, and certainly not before talking to a certain someone else first..."

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 2 facing the reality​

It wasn't a dream, nor a nightmare. She was still in that room the next morning. That leaves only long term coma, becoming completely delusional and detached from reality, or the truth that she might be in fact, in another world. All of those possibilities effectively lead to the same conclusion though, that for all intents and purposes she's a in a strange world and will have to live with that.

Well, for another world it doesn't seems to be that bad, in fact it's almost feels forgiving. It's almost as if these people were used to randos dumped on their world, wait, they made it clear that she was far from the first one to drop in from planet earth.

That brought up more horrifying thoughts. While she has herself never personally read much works of the genre known as 'isekai', from what she had gathered on certain online communities, things only go well if the person being forcibly transported to is a mainly male loser with little attachment to back on earth, qualities that she doesn't possess.

Suppressed thoughts of home once again bubbled up to the surface of her mind, and once again she pushed them away. This is not the time for mental breakdowns, while they did not explicitly state it, but the room she's in has many of the hallmarks of being a jail cell. She doesn't blame them for that, probably a sensible precaution too, she doesn't want to contemplate what any of the previous people did.

Wait a minute. Civilization and technology are still around, though are those because of people like her, or despite of? So many damn questions, and no answers in sight.

She was still deep in confused thoughts when a knock intruded upon her.

"Mam? You have a visiter. Well, actually a few if you count repeats from yesterday." A voice, probably the cop's, said.

"Come in." It might as be a formality, as if her saying no would make a difference. Still, any shred of delusion of being in control of something is certainly better than nothing. Right until the horrors begin of course, but that's to worry about later, however soon that'll be.

The door opened, revealing the three orcs from yesterday… and a human. Or what seems to be human, her appearance being a bit off, but Jane couldn't put her finger on what. It also wasn't her clothing. The cop was in uniform, and the two orcs from the BEA were still wearing loud and bright clothing. She on the other hand was wearing a simple sundress, very understated but almost obviously expensive, as if a member of the aristocracy pretending to be a person of normal social status.

"Jane," Knomes begin, "Processing the necessary documents for you had proceed very smoothly." His voice suggests the exact opposite, heck, neither of the two BEA orcs looked too comfortable with the situation at hand. "So you'll be released today."

"Also, some extra good news." Dumens continued picking up where his flunky left off, "Miss Helen Tomson-Palmer here has taken an interest in you, and will be handling your transition in living in this world."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "This isn't exactly normal conduct for you people isn't it?

"You're damn right it isn't." Potam replied quietly, "but then again the capital is far and the corporation is near." the other orcs give him the stink eye. He ignored them.

"Don't worry," Helen spoke for the first time, "You are going to be okay, you are in good hands now." She held out a hand. Jane, after a moment of hesitation, took it.

One step at a time, one step at a time. If it's really as bad as the genre would implied her days of sanity were numbered anyways.

"Well, I don't want to ruin this moment," Potam coughed, "but could you all please vacate the premise?"

"Of course," Helen agreed. "My place has a much more relaxing atmosphere." As everyone begin to file out of the room. Jane followed the group, about to immerse herself into a whole new world, for better or worse.

……

As they walked out of the police station into the courtyard, The first thing noticed was the dragon in a modified version of the police uniform, lazing around along with an alligator, who's also wearing a police hat. Potam noticed her gaze.

"That's the dragon I mentioned yesterday." He explained, "He's Teg'Stomean, the assisstant chief of police, and the head of the local militia. That swamp cat is his pet, Cookies."

The dragon opened an eye, and waved at the little group, before closing again, returning to his sunning. The group moved past on, through another gate to a parking lot.

It's not a large parking lot, probably an indication that vehicles were still not all that common. There were a couple of cars and a truck painted in blue and the letters MIPD, they seems to be rarely used, at least compared to the rack of bicycles next to them. On the far corner near the outer gate there was parked a sedan, an elf in an almost skanky looking maid costume stood next to it, with a bored look on her face. When she noticed the group her eyes suddenly grew wide and she almost gasped. No one beside Jane noticed that, Helen being too busy talking to the orcs of the BEA.

"Well, if there's anything else, we're only a call away." Dumens said to Helen.

"You guys finally got a phone line? Shocking." Helen pretended to be surprised. She turned away from the orcs and towards Jane. "If you haven't gathered, we're going to my home. Just us, the BEA's involvement ends here for now."

She then turn towards the elf maid, "Reta, start the car, we're going home."

…..

"You're rich, aren't you?" Jane asked Helen, as they were in the car which was meandering through the narrow and winding roads. The car itself, which certainly appeared to be an ancient design lacking basic things like AC or even powered windows, was obviously a product of luxury, at least the leather seats were any indication. "Like, really rich?"

"Well, being the grandchild of isekais does help, but really it's what one does with one's' inheritance and a fair bit of luck that determines the most in the results."

"Wait, you, you're a descendent of people like me?" Jane couldn't believe it.

"On my mother's side anyways. Father's side was far more normal, a mix of dragons and elves." Helen replied.

Well, that went a long way in explaining some of her more nonhuman features.

"So, people like me have been popping into your world for that long?"

"According to historians and archaeologists, it's been happening for the better part of four centuries. Weird thing is the time between the worlds doesn't seem to move the same way, all of the peoples from your world seems to be plucked from the era around the beginnings of your 21st century."

"Oh." Jane wasn't sure what else to say.

"Switching to another topic." Helen said suddenly, "How did you managed to get here, if I may ask? Got hit by truck?"

"No, I'm not sure what happened. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on a bus. It was a greyhound, that's a long distance bus."

"Oh, guess that bus probably fell into a river or crashed or something to that effect then."

"And it was on my way to a model shipbuilding gathering." Jane sighed. "Then again, not sure if they'll accept me in real life."

"You have an interest in ships?" Helen was suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation.

"Yea, especially warships of the early 20th century." Jane blushed a bit, "I know, it's weird for a girl to be interested in that stuff."

"What is the extent of your knowledge?" Helen asked, her mind already working somewhere else...

------

Meanwhile somewhere on the ocean a bit outside the coastlines of Ironi, a cruiser of the Lasce Imperial State was chugging along in no hurry. A dark elf in the tropical uniform of the State Service was lounging around on the port bridge wing in a wicker lawn chair. A messenger delivered a freshly typed paper to her.

"Latest dispatch from one of our agents on the Orange Islands."

"Thank you." Oesa replied, taking the message and begin reading. As she read through the message she begin to smile.

"It's so nice to be vindicated." She said to herself. She then turned to one of the crew of the ship, of which there's always a few scurrying to and fo.

"Inform the captain that this cruiser will be making an unscheduled stop to Port Pulp, and tell him to inform the port authorities there that our official reason was due to the recent crisis over at Ironi forcing us to truncate our resuppling there."

"Acknowledged." One of the crew said, she didn't even paid attention which one. It doesn't matter, as long as they all behave like the good soldiers and sailors that they're supposed to be.

Soon the cruiser turned slightly but noticeably, towards the chain of islands…

 

[John_Oakman]

part 3​

"So, just how specific if your knowledge of the warships of your world?" Helen asked Jane.

The two of them were at her office in her house, though Jane privately thought it more as a mansion cosplaying as the Maginot Line, as far as the outside decor goes. She did mention something about the house also serving as the depot for the local militia, the island's redoubt in time of war, and being the storehouse for her company's trade secrets. She's still not sure if this is a sign of humbleness or extreme narcissism. Regardless it certainly gives a vibe of a unhealthy lack of divide of work and life.

On the insides though, it was rather minimalistic, in the sense that the furnishing were originally meant for a house much smaller, and no one has bothered to add any additions. Soon it became all too obvious why that was the case, as it turns out that Helen and the maid, who also doubles as a secretary and general assistant, were the only two permanent residents of the house.

With a victorian era tech level, house cleaning would have been an almost insurmountable task given the personnel at hand at the best of times.

It has been a few days since she started staying at Helen's place, and it has been… continuously surreal. There was an overall subconscious sense among the peoples of this world to recreate life back on earth, from the decor of the buildings to the mannerism of the peoples to even the pop culture references that everyone who's well read seems to know.

She learned that there was in fact many communities of people like her scattered around, and by bullshit powers of knowledge they managed to shape the world much closer to what they're used to, though for some reason neither Helen nor Reta wanted to talk much about the native humans of the world, or anything on "the other side".

Of course, the exchange of information wasn't merely one way, which bring back at the conversation at hand, as Helen seems to have taken an interest in her hobby.

"Mainly warships from the late 19th century to the mid 20th century." Jane answered, it felt oddly calming to be discussing something so familiar after all the weirdness of the previous days.

Helen nodded, then she stood up, walked over to one of the bookshelves, and took out a rather battered looking dark blue tome. She put it gently on the table.

It was a hardcover, the original dust jacket was long since gone, and the letters on the side were somewhat worn, though it was also obvious that much effort had been expended to keep its condition from deteriorating too much. The words were something she never expected to see again:

CONWAY'S ALL THE WORLD'S FIGHTING SHIPS 1860-1905

"Where, where in the world's did you come across this?" Jane was taken aback. It shouldn't be possible, not with what happened to her and what she had been told."

"I have the rest of the volumes too." Helen was looking mighty smug for a brief moment. "The thing is, one of my grandmother's 'cheat' ability, was the power to summon books she had read. Turns out she was a minor naval buff too, among other things. But enough about that"

She opened one of the drawers on the deck, took out what appeared to be a photo. Then passed it to Jane. Jane took the photo and looked at it.

In it was a battleship, a pre-dreadnought type. The ship was appeared to have been at a harbor in a tropical location. Her condition seemed to have been a bit worse for wear though, her hull covered in soot and grime, as if she was at the end of her life.

"So," Helen begin, "What class of ship is the one in the picture?"

"Majestic Class," Jane answered with some confidence, "the side by side funnels and the full turrets distinguished them prior and later classes, though I'm not aware of any ships of that class ever bring in that condition in that type of location."

"That's because the photo was taken in this world, actually on one of these islands." Helen smiled at the wave of shock on Jane's face. "Long story short, one of granny's other cheat ability was to be able to summon objects from the books she summoned, though needless to say summoning large objects took much more mana and experience. That ship she summoned near the end of her life, I think it was the late 50s? Well, we never had the infrastructure or the technology to maintain her at the time, and well, there you see."

"So… um, where's that ship now?" She has so many more important questions, but has no idea where to begin with the rest. This seemed like a safe question.

"Scrapped about a decade ago, back in 87, when the islands finally built the proper facilities. You did well, most isekais thought it was the Mikasa for some reason."

"I would guess because either they played too much Kantai Collection or World of Warships. Damn weeaboos." She groaned at the thought of those types polluting even this world, but then again, given how the whole modern thrown to another world situation was literally catered towards them, she really shouldn't be surprised at how many probably made their way here.

"That's something we can agree on, thank goodness most of those crazies tend to gravitates towards the elves. Not sure why, probably because they been going fascist for a while now."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, this world has a minor fascist problem too, another dubious thing we learned too well from you people. That being said they are good customers, always pay up front and in hard currency."

"Wait, you're selling them stuff?" None of this seems to make sense, it was obvious that Helen wasn't a big fan of fascism, yet she's cheerfully selling them stuff all the same.

"If I don't do it, someone else will, and all the governments are too toothless to enact embargos, not when the elves had long cornered the mana market." She shrugged, "Mana is as important as oil in your world Actually, probably much more important, given how much our societies depend on magic and mana is used to fuel that." She shrugged again, "If it makes you feel any better, the rest of us still have the bigger guns."

"Didn't prevent Hitler from overrunning Western Europe and murder 6 million Jews in World War Two." Jane muttered, mainly to herself. To her surprise Helen nodded, as if she knew what she's talking about.

"You have to keep in mind that none of us in this world have the collective institutional experiences of your world, and the gods keep on importing douchebags to our world. So for the most part fascism isn't seen in the same negative light as back where you came from, not when there are bigger problems to worry about."

"There are bigger problems?" Jane can't really imagine things worse than nazi elves running around and militarizing with the backing of megacorps.

Helen was about to reply when a knock on the door.

"Sorry to disturb you" Reta's voice called out, "but there is a developing problem."

"Come in."Helen said wearily, "This is the weekend, what could possibly go wrong?" she asked. As far as the everyone's concerned, the weekends were always the time for the islands to transform into full tourist trap mode, which means the usual factories, offices, and shipyards tend to be all but abandoned.

"A ship of the Lasce Imperial State has just docked a few hours ago, and State Security Minister Oesa was onboard. She's on her way here for a chat with you."

"For what reason does she wants to chat with me for?" Helen was a bit nervous now, as far as she remembered all the weapons sold to the Imperial State was of acceptable quality.

"It's about their archaeological and historical research, specifically the rumors that the water goddess Photinsea has been sighted on this island."

Helen quickly turned her gaze to the blue hair elf with the soul of a human, her face suddenly clouded by worry.

 

[John_Oakman]

part 4​

"Get her safely hidden away now!" Helen immediately snapped into action. Reta simply nodded, grabbed Jane by the left hand, and almost dragged her out of the office. The last thing Jane heard Helen say was "It will all be explained later, please bear this for a bit longer."

In the minutes that followed the two of them hurried through a maze of corridors and staircases, going steadily downward towards towards deep into the basement levels where Jane has not yet stepped into at all since she first came to this house.

It was the underbelly of the beast, in a sense. The storehouse of the island militia and if things go bad enough, where the island make their land stand. Obviously, it's not a happy looking place, being large rooms piled high with all kinds of stuff strewn around everywhere, the thick layer of dust on them indicating that no one has actually gone there for quite some time. Reta quickly begin to pick up a number of equipment and other assortment of things from the various piles.

"What is going on? What are we doing?" Jane was still in shock at the sudden change of events and personalities.

"Just need you to be out of their sight for some time, for your safety, and if worst comes to worst, the safety of the world."

"No way." Jane said flatly. Sure, overpowered douchebags with overpowered cheats are a dime a dozen in isekai literature, but usually they weren't all concentrated in a single world. If they are in this one, it would mean either the continuous collapse of civilization or they cancel out, and since she's in a house with functional plumbing and electricity, it must be the latter.

"This time is slightly different. Come, follow me." Reta finished packing, strapping a rather ancient looking holstered revolver to her right leg. She opened a previous hidden door and went in. Jane, not really seeing a good alternative, followed.

The air in the tunnel was dank and mushy, but at least there was electric lighting in the form of a couple of bare bulbs. Reta started rambling, answering the questions that Jane haven't even thought of yet.

"Thing is, it's different this time because you just happen to match the description of an ancient elven water deity that the present fascist regime is interested in. Your existence will confirm the superiority of the elven race and civilization in the moment of their greatest revanchism. Fun things all in all."

"But, but, what? That's madness!"

"If you haven't noticed, this world is a bit off the hinges ever since you people have shown up." Reta muttered, slightly bitterly.

"Hang on a minute, aren't you an elf?" Jane suddenly realized, and then remembered that the maid was armed while she herself was not…

"I'm not a citizen of the Imperial State, for a start." Reta said. "When then chancellor Amberea declared the formation of the Imperial state replacing the old Confederation many towns exercised the secession clause in the last moments, already seeing the writing on the wall. Luckily, I was from one of those towns."

"Oh," Jane was quiet for a moment. "I guess the Imperial State then conquered them?"

"Actually no, fuhrer Amberea was at first too distracted by internal problems, and by the time that was over the Union and the Republic were handing out sovereignty guarantees like penny candies." Reta allowed herself a brief smile. "You can always trust the orcs to do the right thing, if only because they'll get to annoy somebody else in the process."

"So, you're country's still free?"

"Yes."

"But would they really think I'm a water deity?" Jane remembered that her original question still haven't been really answered. "Aren't magic users rather common in this world? She still has a hard time contemplating how she herself could be so disruptive to the world at large.

"Well, we're not dealing with rational and reasonable people here. We're dealing with people who are grasping any straw they see, even if it's the product of their own delusions." They finally reached the end of the corridor. Reta then fiddled with the doorknob and the long unused door creaked open, revealing dense tropical growth. She looked backed at Jane.

"You know how to live out in the wild?" She asked.

"My family dragged me out to camp back when I was a child." Jane answered, with slight trepidation.

"Close enough, let's go."

As the two walked out into the forest, neither had noticed a few peculiarities around Jane, such as despite the crushing heat and humidity of the outside climate neither seemed to have affected her, nor the thin nimbus of water vapor surrounding her, as if a protective forcefield of sorts.

------

It was an almost comical sight as the group of State Security troops of the Lasce Imperial State arrived at the door steps of the Tomson-Palmer residence in an obviously rented horse wagon from the local area, the orc driver being as bored as the old horse lazily pulling the whole thing into view. Comical, that is, when one ignores who the wagon was transporting.

Helen tried her best to put up a cheerful veneer, however thin. After all, it's just another perfectly ordinary day here at Mandarin Island. Well, if nothing else she could always just blame it on the all pervasive heat and humility.

Even before the wagon stopped, A dark elf figured jumped gracefully from the wagon. She then walked, almost a fast march, briskly up to Helen, quickly closing the distance between the two.

"It's good to see an old friend once again." Oesa, head of the Lasce Imperial State's State Security Service, said, as she embraced the [mostly] human. A greeting normal for the elves of the South Continent (who always seems a bit too friendly to outsiders) but less so for a head of a powerful intelligence apparatus.That's the thing about dark elves; they are just so friendly and cheerful in everything, even when they're committing unspeakable horrors and meddling in things mortals were not meant to know.

Helen's discomfort was all but showing on her face, however briefly, during the quick embrace, but luckily no one was paying much attention. After Osea stepped away, she managed to catch her breath again.

"Yes, it is good to see you here, although I'm curious as what matters of fate conspire you to be in this humble vacation spot? Do come in, let us get out of the hot sun." She quickly attempt to get the entire group of elves into the house, before they pay too much attention to the surrounding forests. In her haste in trying to distract the elves she herself did not notice that a couple of them were carrying some rather bulky and heavy equipment...

"Oh, the usual, unexpected insanity from the forces of chaotic evil rudely truncating our archaeological expedition there to find the first colony and the resupplying of the LINS Salt, so here we are, at the next more convenient port of call, and I simply could not miss an opportunity to visit a good friend of our country." As expected, a combination of useless information, half-truth, and worthless platitudes.

Helen sighed a little as the group files into her house, it's gonna be a long day…

……

"Your maid not here?" Oesa asked. The two of were sitting in the rear patio,

"My assistant is out shopping." Helen scowed, mildly annoyed that Oesa, and almost everyone else for that matter, seems to always assume Reta being merely her maid. Then again, such underestimation is useful at times, this being one of them.

"Oh, how unfortunate. Just as well though, I got the impression that she doesn't like me."

"I wonder why? Maybe it has something to do with the geopolitical situation that's being going on for the past couple of decades." Helen said, slightly sarcastically.

"Her devotion to her country is admirable, shame that it just happen to be to a country my country happen to have… some issues with." She paused, "But that will change soon, when we find the ancient powers and the truth will be obvious to all."

"Excuse me, but what the heck are you babbling about?" Helen asked, feigning ignorance. "I figured that your visit here was about something to do with some of the recent weapon purchases your country made with my company."

"Oh, my apologies, I guess you weren't aware of some of the latest discoveries in the field of archaeology that's being happening."

"To be perfectly honest, it's more that I have been intentionally making myself ignorant of a field that's been uncomfortably close to grave robbing and historical revisionism." Helen had to choose her words carefully now, as too much ignorance and disbelief would be seen as an indication of hiding something as much as accidently revealing too much.

Oesa sighed, "Well, allow me to enlighten you then," She smiled, "You're not wrong."

"What?" Helen was taken aback. She hasn't expect Oesa to actually admit as much. "Is this the part where you monologue before killing me or something?" The patio suddenly felt a bit colder, despite the blistering heat of the outside.

"Of course not!" Oesa giggled, "Only morons attempt to emulate those trashy dime novels." She became serious again, she continued in a more hushed voice, "The thing is, we did found quite a bit of evidence suggesting that grand ancient civilizations had existed before." Helen stared at her in disbelief. "Well, obviously not on the same technological level as the present ones, it's a really different context."

"How… what?" Was all Helen would get out.

"Those ancient civilizations were what we have dubbed 'keystone' civilizations, whose prosperity, and in many cases even continued existence, were dependent upon the powers of a few individuals blessed with incredible mana and powers."

"How much mana are we talking about?" Helen asked, who has recovered and was becoming interested in the topic, if only mildly.

"According to the experts, some of those individuals possess mana output that's potentially greater than the National Mana Reserve of the Imperial State." Helen whistled at that. The NMR was the Imperial State's trump card, giving it both the flexibility for their massive industrial and infrastructural expansion as well as the threat of overwhelming military power. To imagine such powers concentrated in the hands of a single individual… or the Imperial State having, or even pretending to have, such power…

"But all that's ancient history." Helen respond hesitantly, "It's not as if any of them… deities are running around today, douchebag isekais notwithstanding."

"Oh, the isekais are nothing compared to the ancients." Oesa shrugged them off, "But we have heard rumors of such powerful beings still existing." Seeing the look of disbelief and mild disdain that Helen was trying, and mostly failing, to hide, she continued, "Oh come on, we're not being that delusional are we?! Beings that powerful don't just die off into the pages of history!"

"But you have to admit, it's rather difficult to suddenly believing that." Helen countered.

"True, and you may have a point. Given that all we found so far were just wisps in the wind." She sighed.

"I hate to further ruining your day, but I seriously doubt that you'll find what you're looking for here." Helen said, seeing the opportunity to disabuse her of poking around. "This island is pretty well mapped out and developed. At most you might want to go ask the MIPD about any suspicious activities." Knowing that the police will never yield any useful information, mostly because both Umek and Teg'Stomean happened to be the most obtuse two persons on the island, also probably why they get along so well with each other.

"Regardless, we're going to be here for a while anyway, the ship needing to resupply and the sailors in need of some well deserved shore leave." She stood up, "So you'll be seeing some of us around for a time yet."

"Wonderful." Helen was trying to keep her tiredness from seeping to her voice. Forget about a long day, it seems that it's going to be a long month.

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 5​

"What the heck you lot think you're doing here?" Potem shouted at the group of elves who were digging up a storm at the beach.

It was one of the smaller beaches of the island and not very popular since it's almost right next to the dockyards, of which the noise and fumes tend to drive tourists away. All this made it even weirder that anyone would be doing anything here, much less a group of them.

But then, the shipyard is next door, and if they're spies or saboteurs, he's gonna need some backup…

"Oh sorry," One of the elves said, presumably the leader of the bunch, "we are just doing an archaeological dig here."

Even to Potam's untrained eyes, the scene before him sure did not look at all like a supposed archaeological dig. A bunch of elves of both genders, all clad in swimsuits, were using shovels… wait, is that a digging machine over there? There's also a number of other equipment and objects scattered about.

Damn. He definitely should have called back up. Too late to be wallowing in regrets though, he still has a job to do.

"Do you have your papers in order?" He asked. The elf looked at him in surprise, it appears that it wasn't the turn of event he was expecting.

"No… no, we weren't aware of any need for such documentations." He managed to reply.

"Well, unlike over the in the wilds of Ironi, we have laws here, and the law clearly states that all archaeological digs must first go through the office internal affairs for permission first."

"Oh. We are so sorry then." The elf now looked relieved. "Is it possible for us to fix the issue then?" He asked earnestly.

"Yes, that should be possible." Potem couldn't believe it, they might actually be exactly who they say they are, a mere archaeological dig. "Now pack up all your stuff and follow me to the city hall, with any luck they'll process your request within the day." He ordered.

'Here we go, more paperwork.' Potem thought to himself as he watched the elves packing up their equipment. Another day on the grind.

------

"Ugh, how the hell is there so much damn work here?" Knomes wondered out loud.

The two of them, Knomes and Dumens, were at the BEA Mandarin Branch Office. Actually, to call it an office might be overstating things, given it was literally a single small room that also had to serve as their dwelling. Land and housing prices being a premium on the islands, and the BEA's funding as always more of a joke than an actual thing, especially for some far away tourist trap.

"We been over this before, it's called bureaucracy," Dumens sighed, "I don't like it anymore than you do, but this is the price to be paid for society and government to work these days."

"Guess you're right. After all, the government certainly doesn't want a repeat of parts of it wandering off and doing their own thing in the name of the whole, and so they bury us all in a mountain of paperwork and sea of red tape."

Both sighed at the same time. In the modern world the paper and pen are the strongest chains of them all.

"Well," Dumens finally said, "it's time to disappear 'that'."

Knomes nodded, and opened one of the drawers in the filing cabinet. He then pulled out a rather thin file.

It was a cream colored folder, rather unremarkable in appearance. Important things rarely come in actual important looking packaging, contrary to popular culture would suspect. In the meantime Dumens was putting some other paper into the trash can, as well as cracking open an window.

"Well, here it goes." Demens said, pulling a pack of matches out of his pocket as Knomes threw the file into the trash can. "After this we'll all agree that absolutely nothing of note happened a few weeks back."

"Yep. All is peaceful on Mandarin Island as usual." Knomes agreed.

Before Demens could light a match however, there was a knock on the door.

"Um, who the heck is this?" Demens asked, while kicking the trash can under the work deck.

The door opened, revealing a pair of elves, wearing the tropical uniforms of the Imperial State's State Security Service. One of them was holding a pistol in his hand.

"I'm terribly sorry for intruding you good people" The elf said, "but I believe that you have something rather important in your possession."

------

"Hmm, to be honest, they're dressed more conservatively than I expected." Jane muttered as she aimed the telescope at the group of elves, the female amongst them clad in one piece swimsuits, busy happily digging on a patch of a beach.

It has been a few days since the fateful day when Oesa paid a visit to Helen's house. Reta and Jane managed to make their way back after a short excursion to the forest looking no worse for wear about a day later.

It has been a few nerve biting days since then, as no one really had any idea if or when the Oesa and her posse would pay the place a visit again. After a while though, when Oesa's cover story seems to be actually holding (and no one showed up after Reta found and destroyed a disturbing large number of bugs and other devices the elves managed to put in various places in the house in their prior visit).

For now though, it was just simply waiting and occasionally watching, as Helen and Jane were doing from the same back patio, with a couple of telescopes that in happier times would have being used for gazing at the sky instead of down at other people.

"You can thank some pedo weebs isekais for that." Helen muttered.

"Right, never thought I would see that horrid fetish taking a foothold in this world."

"Remind me again why are the elves so susceptible to crazies?"

"An inferiority complex and the knowledge that they need to pull some miracles to catch up. Which combined to make for some very desperate people who were willing to try anything and listen to anyone."

Jane sighed, "I don't even know what to say anymore except I'm really sorry for all the assholes from my world somehow ended up in this world."

"It's not your fault whatever deity's running the show seems to be a petty sadist." Helen merely shrugged. Then, seeing something in her telescope, lightly nudged Jane. "Looks like they're gonna get in trouble with the law." She said as they watched an orc cop walked up to the group. "Though I doubt much will come of this, governments on this island tend to be rather laid back on most matters. Not that I have any room to complain about that." She muttered the last part, mainly to herself.

Whatever Jane was about to say after than was cut off as the door to the patio opened rather violently and unexpectedly, with Reta being pushed out to the patio.

The two immediately turned around, just in time to see Oesa leading a group of elven soldiers through the same door. While their rifles were slung their bayonets were out. The previous air of carefree cheerfulness nowhere to be found on Oesa herself.

"Well, well, well." Oesa said, "What do we have here?"

 

[John_Oakman]

Part 6
​

"Ah, I guess those weren't all the bugs you planted then." Helen said almost casually, trying to keep down the rising tide of fear she's feeling. She had miscalculated the stakes badly and now it looks like she's about to pay the price with her life.

"No, it would be insulting to you if they were." Oesa said with a thin smile. "The troubles at Ironi did mean that we have a generous supply of broken gear. I have to say though, I'm rather impressed with your efforts to hide a discovery of such magnitude from us." She then turned towards Jane, who was desperately, and utterly failing, to make herself smaller in a corner, and gasped (although far from the first elf to do so, as pretty much all the rest of the elves in the group had already reacted in various ways, usually surprised mixed with reverence).

"I… you…" For once, Oesa found herself at a loss for words. She then instead turned back to an male elf among the group, the only one who wasn't wearing an uniform. "Is she the one?" She asked in a soft voice, much of her previous bravado leached out of her.

"I don't know." The civilian elf stuttered, checking the gadget he's holding, as much to avoid making eye contact with Oesa as was to comprehend the reading from it. "The reading higher than anything we have ever seen before but nowhere near what the legends said." He was certainly not sure of himself, if nothing else."

Oesa breathed a sigh of relief, and returned her gaze back to Jane, who was still cowered in the corner like a deer with nowhere else to run. She cracked a smile, with far more warmth than the last one.

"Grab the subject, we found what we came for." She said to the soldiers, who begin to move forward.

"Over my dead body!" Helen suddenly shouted, her eyes suddenly filled with defiance. Oesa merely raised an eyebrow.

"Before I make that happen, and don't think I won't, may I ask where did this sudden death wish come from?" She asked casually, already not going to care much regardless of what she hears.

"Simple, because there is no place for me or the corporation in the new order that you seek." Helen said simply. "Such powers are not meant to be in the hands of the likes of you."

"Hm. History will see about that, and we will be the ones to write it, for I intend to be a winner."

"That's enough!" A voice, sharp with anger, rang out. Everyone turned towards the source of the voice.

------

"Go ahead, if you can find it." Demens said casually. The Elven elven soldier's eyes narrowed.

"No, seriously. I don't care anymore." Demens continued as he threw up his hands, not in surrender, but in exasperation. It was true, the job doesn't pay enough to deal with this kind of shit, and he doubt anyone would care if he defended some paper to the death. Certainly not him, he likes living too much. The elf flinched for a bit, but kept his hand steady. With his other hand he waved the other soldiers in.

The soldier continued to cover him and Knomes with his pistol as the rest of his comrades begin to ransake the room. The two orcs merely looked bored rather than concerned, which made the elves even more nervous.

They were still fruitlessly searching through the cabinets when a booming voice, amplified by a bullhorn, broke the pace.

"To all those unknown individuals who are currently in the BEA office." It begin, sounds like Umek's using it. "Release the hostages and surrender now or we will have to take more extreme action-"

The voice suddenly stopped, while a number of other sounds took place, as if someone was fighting over the bullhorn. When a voice returned, it was a lot deeper, as if from a dragon.

"You have five minutes before I open fire. Actually, I would prefer you guys to fight to the death as I am itching to finally use this gatling cannon here, I want to see how well this electric motor I just installed on here works."

At this point, everyone in the room, elves and orcs alike, were looking out the window. What they saw was a crowd of people had gathered across the street around Umek, Teg'Stomean, and a gaggle of police officers and militia personnel. Teg'Stomean was wearing the cap and armband of the island militia, as were the other militia members, and they were twiddling around a gatling cannon, which looks plenty sinister.

"He's not gonna actually use that is he?" The elf asked, to nobody in particular.

"Pretty sure he will actually." Knomes replied grimly, "That dragon has delusions of grandeur and was always annoyed that he never has a chance to fight glorious combat."

"Isn't he supposed to protect you people?" Obvious question perhaps, but when reality seems to not align with common sense…

"We are talking about a dragon who's itching to use his big gun." Knomes pointed out, "Teg'Stomean's operating in the authority of the militia here, and they care much less about protecting the individual as opposed to the collective, but mostly because he's a bloodthirsty nutjob like many of his species."

Upon hearing that, the elf turn away from the window and begin to pace around. "Damn it, we are so close." He muttered, "Too close to give up now, just because someone is out for blood anyways." He returned to the window.

"How do we know that our lives will be spared if we do, in fact, stand down?" He shouted to the forces arrayed against them across the street. The reply was prompt, if less than authoritative.

"You don't-" Was all that Teg'Stomean could get out before Umek took the bullhorn out of his hand. Then the two begin a rather long argument.

"Well, at least that bought us some time…" He muttered, "Continue the search."
​

 

[John_Oakman]

part 7​

'Well, this is awkward.' Potem thought to himself as he saw the commotion at a nearby street. As he walked up to it he found the reason behind it, as Umek and Teg'Stomean were arguing over killing the elves while the rest of the police and militia looked on, twiddling their fingers in the meantime.

Then he heard a number of guns cocking behind him.

"Fuck my life…" Me muttered. He didn't even need to look back to know that he has just become a hostage to the elves behind him.

------

"Don't you see, this is the time for glorious and bloody battle!" Teg shouted at Umek. "We are at the crossroads of history!"

"Snap out of your damn delusion you overgrown swamp cat! You been baking in the sun for too long and your brain has melted!" Umek knew it was a bad idea when Teg'Stomean first alerted him to suspicious elven activities on the island… while decked out in his militia uniform and dragging along that gatling cannon, his eyes filled with expectations of using that damn thing.

Whatever Teg was about to say back was abruptly truncated when they noticed that another group of elves were walking up to them… with one of the police officers as yet another hostage.

"Ah hell nah, this is bullshit." Umek muttered as he turned around towards the new threat. The situation was getting more complicated by the hour.

As the two sides stare off at each other sudden massive plumes of water rose out of the ocean. It must have been truly massive because they were nowhere near the beaches. As all parties switched their attention to the sudden unnatural act of nature more plums of of water rose out from the sea and soon formed a massive wall of water surrounding the eternity of the island.

The police chief and the militia head looked at each other, and realized that whatever they're dealing with up till now has just paled in comparison with what's unfolding.

"Damn it, mobilize the rest of the militia and get the civilians to safety!" Umek snapped at Teg, knowing that only the militia has the manpower to deal with such a crisis, and also to get him and more importantly his cannon out of the way.

"On my way." Teg answered, his voice far less confident than a minute ago.

------

The first indication that Oesa's skepticism of those half made up ancient faiths might have been premature was the massive plumes of water rising out of the ocean. The next thing was far closer, as a thick nimbus of fine mist begin to swirl around the blue hair elf, who have stood up in the meantime, her face full of rage that casually threw out her previous fear. A moment later Oesa's own suspicions were confirmed.

"Mana readings are off the scale!" The male elf said, as the device smoke and sputtered in his hand, its internals overloaded by the sheer amount of power present. "There appears to be a focus of mana being drawn into her from all over the island and beyond!"

Well, that explains that, but it doesn't help what was quickly appearing to be a situation that's quickly going completely out of control.

"How dare you, all of you, treat me as if I am some... object to be fought over!?!" While the voice was soft as ever, the anger and threat behind them need no higher volume to make it clear.

Now it was Oesa's turn to be the one scared, and the chief of State Security felt a sense of fear that she hasn't felt for decades, that of a small child who has majorly screwed up and the adults in the room were in no mood for mercy.

"And you expect us to act as if you're not the biggest potential threat to everybody in this world?" Helen spoke up. She seems oddly calm about it, although it might have something to do with how she has already accept her imminent death.

"What?" Jane was taken aback, expecting that her little pleading for the innate nature of human empathy would sway everyone, and was genuinely shocked that it didn't work out at all.

"Yeah, we had enough of that load of hypocrisy from the usual suspects." Helen continued, "You think you're the first one to be bitching about being played around for others? This world has been at the mercy of irresponsible assholes for centuries, and we say, never again."

That took the rage out of her, and as suddenly as it appeared, the plumes of water went back almost as fast as it first shot up. Soon the oceans surrounding the island was as tranquil as always.

------

"Well, I'm terribly sorry for making such a horrible first impression." Oesa said sheepishly. The elves, Jane, Helen, Umek, and Teg were at the docks, the latter two watching the elves with still suspicious eyes. "I hope this won't poison your opinion of us forever."

It has been a week since the oceans around the island has gone nuts, the official story being an unnatural and unidentified act of paranormal by unknown forces. After the botched confrontation Oesa did arrived in time to have the rest of her forces to stand down, and in the interest of not creating a international scene neither Teg nor Umek decided to press any charges or make much of it, not even an official report, although quite a bit of IOUs and favors changed hands.

"Well, I have been given thoughts about all of this," Jane said, waving her hand aimlessly around, "and all this mess was because all of us have been jumping into conclusions too early."

She paused a bit, as if thinking of her next words. Then continued, "This is why I decided to stay here and work as a ship architect for now. Some stability and normality is good for the soul." Not to mention a safe base to digest information and news, she thought to herself.

"I promise you that we as a people will strive to be worthy to be graced with your presence someday." Oesa stated, all seriousness in her voice. The events of the past couple of weeks has had a change, almost akin to a new age of religion. Jane sighed inwardly, it's like that episode of Star Trek, except miracles do exist and there's no organization to enforce a prime directive. Well, now it's time to pick up the pieces and put them in a safe place, out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

"Hopefully we can put all of this behind us and move forward, as we naturally should be." Helen interjected.

"Of course, but now we should be on our way. Goodbye." Oesa agreed as she turned around to go back up the cruiser.

"You think they're really gonna change?" Jane whispered to Helen as they watched the elves embarked onto their ship.

"Suffice to say I doubt even divine intervention is enough to get it through their skulls as far as something they made up their minds on. That being said it won't be the first time they made hard turns to their society." Helen muttered back.

------

"So, the myths and legends are true after all." Amberea remarked.

It was a month since the unnatural and unexplained events occurred on Mandarin island, and Oesa was reporting to Amberea at her office. Oesa nodded.

"In a sense, what we have not expected was that she is in fact an isekai, at least her soul is of one. This complicate matters as she appeared to have the mentality of those associated with the Euro-Atlantic democrices back in her world..."

"... which makes her having a rather low opinion of our little operations here." Amberea finished. She nodded, almost to herself, before continuing. "We'll just have to change the flavor of the ice cream, or the toppings."

"You really think that would work?" Oesa was a bit skeptic.

"Contrary to what they proclaim, most isekais are still authoritarians deep down, the only differences being which flavor they prefer, and how much the truth is hidden."

"A rather cynical view coming from you." Oesa pointed out, tactically agreeing to her points.

"You are far from the only person to see a lot of the uglier side of large scale management and leadership." Amberea reminder her.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

The Isekai/Incel Rebellion

Introduction
​

It was the turn of the 5th century of the Standard Era, five hundred years since the first legends, or horrors, from another world first graced their presence in these lands. These beings, for calling them mere mortals would be downplaying their vast powers, shaped the lands and peoples at their will.

The world moved on, life continued, as was adaptation, and by the 4th century the age of isekai was beginning to end, ironically partially brought upon by some of their own kind. It was a age of sorrow or joy, depends on who's asking and who's answering.

On the turn of the 5th century, the world has changed completely once again.In the old continent, the Empire of All Mankind was in the throes of terminal decline, besieged by the orcs, betrayed by the elves, and ravaged by the dragons. Many lands and people were lost, as were the wealth of centuries. Their proud traditions and noble heroes were little match against the new gods of the world: cordite, steam power, the railroad, and centralization. Its pitiful efforts in catching up were spurred and then burned to the ground. To their East, in the mountains of the north the dragon princely kingdoms lord over the rich deposits of ore, in the mountains seemly perpetually shouded in cold and frost. To their south were the nations of the orcs, the Republic and the Union, former allies in their crusade against the humans, now awkward rivals jocking for the dominance of the entire world, or so they perceive. To their south was the rising elven imperial state, bent on bloody vengeance and naked imperialism against everything and everyone standing in their way.

Beyond the old continent, to their south lies a massive landmass known as the south continent, now greedly being gobbled up by the elves. Further east, a week's trip by even the fastest steamship, lies the continent of Ironi, a land rich in ores and danger, mostly dangers. It was not a forgiving place, even for the orcs who seek ever more resources to fuel the maws of the endless factories and refineries back in the old continent.

Even as tens of hundreds of millions celebrated the coming of a new century, there was an air of something big on the horizon, something that would reshape the landscape. This is not the story about that, however. This is the story of the fall of an ancient and noble civilization, slew at the hands of its supposed saviors and the usual suspects.

It was a time of change, and change in this world meant violence and the other horrors that comes along with it.

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 1: Here we go...​

"Unbelievable, simply unbelievable." Inek muttered as he read yet another report.

"Yeah, I know, it's shocking isn't it? Man's inhumanity towards its fellow man." Pimu nodded. The two agents of the Bureau of Exotic Affairs branch office in the human capital of Wyvernwald in the foreign quarter, which despite what it sounds was actually more of a single office in an otherwise unremarkable squat and ugly grey building block, the rest of the building housing a number of intelligence operatives who for the most part were more tour guides for the occasional idle rich on vacation from back home than hotshot spies. After the wars of the last century, the Union hasn't taken the human kingdoms seriously as a military or economic threat, a view that was only reinforced with the recent conclusion of the Elven human war.

"Unbelievable in the more literal sense, as in the reports are either lying, heavily exaggerated, or written under the influence of certain narcotics." Inek snorted, "We're in the fifth century remember?"

"Not where we're stationed in, if you haven't noticed outside of the little enclaves like here, the rest of the humans haven't even gotten out of the third century."

"Well, since we do happen to be in the fifth century, we should hold ourselves to more enlightened standards, which includes not believing completely unbelievable stories that also happens to be conveniently unverifiable."

"Which part of all these reports are unbelievable?"

Inek simply stared at Pimu for about half a minute before realizing that the other orc was genuinely confused. He simply sighed at that. The problem with fresh meat is often that they're unseasoned in the ways of the world.

"To start with, what parts do you actually find believable?" He asked. Education has to start somewhere.

Pimu didn't immediate answer, averting his gaze away from Inek. Inek facepalmed. This is going to take a while…

"To start with," Inek begin, "The growth of these secret societies, the so called 'incels'..."

"Oh yes, the Society of Involuntary Celibate for the Institution of the Glorious Patriarchy." Pimu interrupted, "their existence has been making quite a stir back home in the isekai communities there. People are scared out of their wits there."

"The isekais back home are mostly paranoid wrecks as far as anything to do with the isekais of the human kingdoms are concerned. Their opinions could be safely discounted when it's outside of their niche expertise."

"The elves are also taking this rather seriously." Pimu pointed out, "Especially the Imperial State."

"All the more reasons to dismiss it. Their fuhrer has been looking for external threats everywhere so as to consolidate her grip on power internally. Flights of fancy is a feature rather than flaw over there."

"So you're saying there's no incel secret societies then?" Pimu was far from convinced of Inek's casual dismissal of hundreds of such reports.

"Not that, merely that we are receiving a very incomplete picture."

"Really now?" Pimu flicked a finger at the stacks of reports piling around.

"Yes really. Remember the first rule of report filtering: most people are simple minded and incapable of seeing the bigger picture. We're better than that."

"And what exactly is the bigger picture here?"

"We been through this before. We are witnessing the decline of an ancient empire whose proud history stretches further than the longest of the dragons. That leaves a lot of baggage on their people, which means that the reverse of fortunes in the previous centuries have cultivated a lot of butthurt folks. That being said, the threat posed by a peasant rabble is about as dangerous as an outbreak of rabbits: a lot of property damage but unlikely to cause actual loss of life."

"But we're talking about unrest amongst the isekai populations in the human kingdoms." Pimu pointed the flaw in Inek's logic.

"Fuck them, so they're not the top dogs anymore, tough shit. They'll just have to live with it."

"Well it certainly seems that they're doing something about it, which is what all these damn reports are saying."

"But the odd fixation on sexual conquest and rape gangs? Isn't that oddly specific and not relevant to the fundamental problems of the human kingdoms?"

"Well, I never claimed they're rational or logical, maybe it's just directionless venting? Or perhaps a backlash against a lot of social norms that the isekais on our side has been pushing?"

"Probably the latter." Inek nodded, more to himself, "Great, the more you dig at the problem, the more isekais you find as the sources."

Both orcs were silent for a moment, then Inek spoke. "Well, write up a summary and analysis and send it off to the intelligence office down the hall, and the source material too, just so they can dig deeper themselves if they so choose."

"Got it boss."

------

"Well, how valid do you think of these loons?" Agent Telika asked.

"For once, I think the Lost Bureau has underestimated the threat present." Intelligence officer Buntoc replied. The same dance of processing the stacks of reports repeated itself in the intelligence office, as the summary and analysis from the Lost Bureau was bland to the extreme, and more importantly, didn't say anything of actual value. "We been beating their head for so long over them making big deal out of nothing that they have gotten into the habit of doing that to themselves."

"So there's a lot of rebellions brewing over yonder." Telika said, a statement rather than a question.

"Certainly, it also appears that these loons are racist as well as misogynist, given their slogan of 'Man stronk, remove greenskin'. We'll have to advise the government to issue a general travel warning."

"Should we also advise them to take more… active actions?" The question lingered potentially in the air for a moment.

"No point, there's no political will to use military action, the current administration is trying their best to not look hypocritical, especially after than uproar the previous administration raised over the Imperial State's little military adventurism those few years back. Besides, no one is keen to start a scramble for clay at this point in time, especially with the ever worsening situation over in Ironi."

"So the usual reports then?"


"I guess so, and a couple more things. Spread the word among the expat communities here immediately, and do a little extra shopping this week."

"You think we might face something big?

"Almost certainly."

------

"Hmm… so that's what's generating the buzz among our muscle bound friends." State Security Officer Munessia muttered, looking at the pile of freshly copied documents from the various orc bureaus.

News and information tend to travel fast amongst the various intelligence communities of various nations, especially the kind that people do not want to spread quickly. The relevant (and irrelevant) documents reached the elves almost as fast as it reached the other orcs themselves, and the former wasted little time in reading through the endless reports and ramblings.

"Well, it's a great casus belli for another short and glorious war if I may so suggest." Agent Ponos said.

"Unfortunately, the people does not have the appetite for conquest right now, still digesting from the spoils of the last war." Munessia pointed out, "So mobilizing the armed forces is out of the question, even before taking account of reactions from the other powers."

"So, what then?"

"Forward a summary to upstairs and let the head office sort this out, any suggestion would be beyond our paygrade anyways."

"It will be done."
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 2: See the world, and maybe burn some of it too​

"You need a vacation." Helen said, with a concern on her face.

"And my life here isn't one?" Jane replied, without even looking up from her desk. Numerous sheets, some of highly detailed drawings, other filled with numbers and calculations. While no nations was interested in building actual super capital ships for fearing of sparking off a ruinous arms race, quite a few, including the Union, are interested in having a stash of 'future' designs ready just in the event the worst came to be. Thus there's plenty of work, real actual design work, to keep Jane (and the rest of the design staff of the Tomson-Palmer Conglomerate) busy for quite a while.

It was a lot of work. Moreover it's work that really interests her and where she happened to be good at, and so Jane threw herself into the projects head first, as much to make herself useful as was to distract herself from her situation as a stranger in a strange land. In a sense it was escaping a fantasy land by hiding in another fantasy land within. It was a coping mechanism, not a healthy one by any means, but one nevertheless.

"A person needs a balance in life to function properly, and that means other activities besides those you find in interested in." Helen sighed, "It's in both of our interests to have you of sound body and mind."

"Hmm, I didn't think you are the type to believe in spiritual mumbo jumbo."

"It's not mumbo jumbo, it is established facts. This world does have some advantages, and understanding of the body and soul is one of them."

"Sure, whatever." Jane shrugged.

"Besides, since you are here in this world, you should see more of it, say for example the human kingdoms."

"I read enough hentai and news to know I don't want to ever step over there unless it's after the army had cleaned the clocks out of those places." The look of disgust was visible on her face.

"You been cooped up on this island for the last few years, you need to get out of your comfort zone once in a while." Helen was starting to lose her patience. "Besides, tabloids fearmonger things all the time. I should know this, I have a cousin who owns a bunch of them."

"I much prefer not being mindbroken by some fatass rapist or died painfully due to some easily preventable diseases thank you very much." Jane replied, already making up her mind on the matter.

"That's it. Pack your bags, we're leave tonight whether you like it or not!" Helen turned and walked off briskly.

Jane finally looked up from her work, not believing the turn of events.

Looks like she's going to get off the island one way or the other.

……

Night came to the islands. Hot, muggy night, the type of weather that herds everyone to the bars and other watering holes in search of relief. The short walk from the walkway to the docks was enough to drench everyone in sweat. As the little group composed of Helen, Jane, and Reta (though only to see them off, someone has to keep watch the house… and to run the company in the meantime) walked up to the pier where Helen's yacht (although privately Jane thought it looked more like a converted gunboat, heck it probably was given what the conglomerate build at its shipyards) was docked, they found that another large figure was already waiting, chatting with the yacht's captain. Helen sighed.

"Alright Teg, what the hell's wrong this time?"

"Oh absolutely nothing at all." The dragon replied coyly, turning away from his conversation with the captain, "I was just hoping that I can hop a ride with you fine ladies for your journey to the old continent.."

"News travels fast these days." Helen muttered.

"Well, we at the police are supposed to review, or at least skim over the minute reports by the Harbor Authorities, and something such as a request for supplies by the personal yacht of one of the wealthiest person on the island would bound to be noticable."

"Alright, you made your point." Helen sighed, with great power comes great responsibility… or at least close scrutiny. A pain the arse either way. Not to mention it never seems to apply to those who actually should be restrained, like those isekais.

"I'm looking to go on a vacation myself, except I don't want to pay for a regular ticket to the mainland." Teg said sheepishly.

"How? You are literally covered in money!" Helen facepalmed, even in the era when most government have begun converting to fiat currency, dragon scales remain the hardest known currency in the world. Both figuratively and literally.

"That doesn't mean I don't know the value of money!" Teg became rather defensive.

"There's a difference between being wise with money and being a cheapskate." Jane muttered. A bit too loud though, as everyone else heard her. It was enough to break up the argument and being back to the topic at hand.

"Eh, what the heck, fine." Helen shrugged. "You got your bags?"

"Thank you very much." Teg seemed really to break out in a huge grin, and since he being a dragon it would have been really terrifying. "I'm already all packed." He points to a small mountain of suitcases.

"Is there anything that would not pass a border inspection?" Helen asked, although her expression seems to already made up her mind.

"We don't need to go through any inspections. That's for commoners." Teg pointed out.

"Right, I don't want to know what's in those cases then." Helen decided that she was better off ignorant of whatever he's packing.

"I'm so glad that you are respecting my privacy." Teg said coyly as they all begin to load the yacht.

------

"Are you sure as to the validity of the overall situation as presented?" Amberea asked, her face solemn.

The two of them, Amberea and Oesa, were at the former's office. It was a weekend night so the government building was rather empty, the only inhabitants being the cleaning staff and the odd low level flunky. In other words as good as a time to discuss some of the more sensitive matters in an informal manner.

"Absolutely." Oesa confidently replied. "The reports we have from our esteemed orc friends does match the field reports of our agents and informants to a remarkable degree. At least as far as the physical and material matters are concerned."

"So it is true then." Amberea nodded to herself, not really wanting to accept the facts even as they're being confirmed.

"Yes, the end of the Empire of all Mankind is at hand, and great dangers and opportunities awaits for those who can seize the moment."

"Mostly dangers." Amberea muttered, then spoke in a more normal voice, "How many isekai rape gangs have been identified?"

"Over two dozen of platoon* size, seven in the company** size, and possibly three of battalion*** size, all estimation including hangerons and slaves." Oesa said matter of factly. Amberea sucked in her breath before Oesa continued, "For the most part they have been sighted in the western lands of the human empire, but ever since our recent war against them many of them have been moving eastward. We suspect this is a result of the disintegration of imperial authority and general backlash against perceived non-human influences."

"But is there a secret society known as the incels?"

"Unknown, while all these gangs seems to share a number of similarities in their tactical operations there is no signs of any strategic coordination between any of them. As far as we can tell anyway." For once Oesa wasn't completely confident of her information.

"And I'm guessing everyone is suggestion some sort of intervention?" Amberea asked, though already knew the answer.

"Yes. Even the more level headed isekais on this side of the continent have a consensus that such a reactionary and anti-egalitarian movement must be nipped in the bud. They even put them above us in the threat meter." Oesa snorted after saying the last tidbit.

"Unfortunately there is no need for a short and glorious war right now in the Imperial State." Amberea pointed out dryly. "Not to mention half the regular army is still cleaning the last mess, and the less said about the militias the better." Oesa winced at the last part, most of the militias, like her, were from the South Continent, and had reacted to the brutal realities of modern warfare with shock and horror unbecoming of the supposed vanguard of a new, more militant elven master race.

"Unless we can manufacture a little bloodletting…" Oesa begin. Amberea quickly cut her off.

"Forget it, I read enough history of the other world to know that kind of false flag operation isn't going to stand up to any scrutiny. I am not going to authorize anything like an 'Operation Oesa'."

"Damn. So our hands are tied at this critical moment in history." Oesa sighed.

"Not completely, I think." She paused, then suddenly spoke again, "Did any country issued a travel warning yet?" She suddenly asked.

"As far as I know, no." Oesa replied, taken aback for a bit. "They are all looking to see our reaction to the alleged danger levels."

"Hmm… you might get your bloodletting after all."

"Surely you are not implying allowing our citizens traveling there to get raped and sold into sexual slavery." Oesa was shocked, not the callous nature of Amberea spending the country's citizenry, but rather at the lack of overall coherence of the plan in general.

""No, nothing so simplistic as that." Amberea chuckled, "You are going on a vacation," She pointed at Oesa, "along with your lovers and friends."

"Um, what?" Oesa wasn't getting the idea, "This is no time to take time off from work."

"You will be traveling to the capital of the human empire, as a display of how safe it is, and that we are not a bunch of paranoid wrecks and opportunistic scavengers. It would then be rather unfortunate that our much vaunted intelligence service have made the miscalculation of their lifetime and now some very important people are going to be needing to be rescued…"

"So no packing guns I presume?" Oesa looks slightly worried, wondering if there's some power play behind her back, among other things."

"Don't be obtuse, it'll be suspicious if you aren't packing guns. Actually pack all the cool guns in your personal collection, I'm sure you're have the opportunity use them as conversation starters one way or the other."

Oesa nodded, accepting her new mission. "So when do I leave?" She asked.

"As soon as possible, I have this feeling we don't have much time."

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 3: Just another killing​

"And what, exactly happened this time?" constable Pumfee of the combined legation police force looked at the latest suspect that the local city guards have shoved before him. He try to suppress a sigh, not entirely successful.

One of the many concessions the various non human nations wangeled from the human empire since the Second Formation War was the allowance for the major powers to maintain their own police force within their enclaves at the capital of the human empire. Of course such concessions forced at the barrel of a gun bred quite a bit of resentment, and relations between the traditional city guards and the legation police tend to be poor at the best of times. Honestly Pumfee was surprised that the they brought a live suspect rather than a corpse as they tend to do. 'You're all criminal scum anyways, deserving of the worst fates.' as they claimed.

"This filthy greenskin has shot an innocent upstanding citizen of our noble country!" One of the guards proclaimed, while taking another jab at the orc suspect, who didn't even flinch. It was pretty obvious that he had been roughened up beforehand, quite normal given the racism of the city guards.

"Okay, we'll handle it from here." Pumfee said in a monotone voice. "Thank you for your efforts and cooperation." Although his tone managed to convey the exact opposite.

The guards give the other orc a final shove into the premise of the legation quarter before turning off to resume their duties… probably shaking people down for money or something. The development of a modern police force is not as simple as it looks, especially if most of the population still haven't got their heads out of that tribal mentality.

Pumfee then looked at the other orc, "Follow me, you got some questions you need to answer." He said wearily.

……

"I am going to make this clear, this isn't a formal questioning." Pumfee begin. Jemtock the suspect and him were in an otherwise unremarkable room within the combined police compound. Unremarkable in the sense that it's of bare concrete walls and bars on the one window. "I just want to hear your side of the story."

"Well, they're right about one thing. I did kill someone." Jemtock replied calmly. "That… thing deserves it."

"Um… okay. I'm gonna need more information here." Pumfee felt something off. If he's actually in the same room with an unhinged cold blooded killer… nah, that's paranoid thinking. This poor schmuck's probably suffering from shock of his actions. Well, at least that's one point to argue for leniency when his sentencing comes. "Start from the beginning if you can."

"I was wandering the streets, I had a couple of days before catching the next train back to the Republic." He begin.

"Please state the nature of your visit." Pumfee suddenly said, while looking at a piece of paper.

"I was sent by the Uli Trading Company to assess its investments here."

"Okay. continue." Pumfee nodded, his story matches the files so far.

"In an alleyway, I saw this large ugly obese human male about to rape this human maiden."

"How do you came to the conclusion that a rape was in the process of occurring?"

"He was naked, with a hard on, ripping her clothes off, and shouting about another glorious conquest in the name of the patriarchy."

"Why was no one at the time attempting to stop that crime that was progressing?" Pumfee asked, then immediately realized how dumb that question sounded. "Never mind, just continue." It was depressing but victim blaming culture is the law of the land, outside of the little corner of civilization known as the legation quarter. At least it was that way since he took up this posting five years ago, although the kooks over at the Lost Bureau claimed this phenomenon was in fact a recent thing, only being around for less than three decades.

"I then walked over and punched that sonofabitch in the face." Jemtock said matter of factly. "He then made attempted to make a combat stance while shouted 'Don't fuck with me, I got the power of misogyny and hentai on my side!'"

"And then?"

"I pulled out my revolver and shot him, two rounds center of mass, followed up by a headshot." Jemtock said without emotion, as if regurgitating something he learned from somewhere.

"That's all?"

"Well, I did also say 'Well I have cordite and lead' before I pulled the trigger."

"You in the army?" Pumfee suddenly asked.

"No, just was part of the town gun appreciation society."

Of course, given the nature of guns being one of the biggest equalizers in this world, it's no surprise that it has taken on an almost religious nature.

"Come to think of it, where is the revolver now? I assume that the guards when arresting you have relieved you of your sidearm."

"They didn't hand it to you?"

"I sure hope that wasn't an expensive gun, because you will never see it again." Pumfee shrugged. Among their other charming features was a tendency to take whatever that isn't nailed down among those that they nabbed. "You're probably also missing whatever money you had in your pockets before."

"Oh."

"Say, what happened to the female human?" Pumfee asked, although already knowing the answer.

"A mob got her, accusing her of a harlot and tempress."

"Ah. I thought so. A word of advice to you, best not dwell on that too much." Both orcs fell silent for a bit. Then Pumfee spoke again. "Well, given the lack of hard evidence available to us it appears that legally we cannot charge you for any crimes."

Jemtock looked up, more confused than anything else.

"On the other hand," Pumfee continued, "releasing you as is will stir up a lot of of resentment and anger among the local population, so I'm afraid that we do have to detain you for a while. You have to understand that like everything here, we the police also have a political component to keep an eye of."

"What?" Was all that Jemtock could get out, still not really grasping the sudden change of events. At least from his perspective, it was all too obvious that for Pumfee it was all business as usual.

"You will find that the law is subordinate to reality of this world, rather than the other way around. Just be glad that things are working in your favor for the moment."

"Oh."

------

And so the spark that will shook the world was was lit, even though few at the time could have foreseen such a series of events.

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 4: Welcome to the past, part 1​

"Well, what do you think of it?" Helen asked.

"Quite frankly, it is as backward as I suspected." Jane grumbled.

The trip to Wyvernwald after getting off the yacht at the port involved taking a train, stopping at the border between the Union and its protectorate to transfer to another train, another transfer when at the border between the protectorate and the actual human kingdoms, and then finally into the heart of the Empire of All Mankind. In all the landward part took the better part of a week and a half. The train rides were pleasant enough, as was the scenery. A notable trend as the train moved away from orc lands to the human lands was the regression of technology and development, as if traveling back in time, and in a sense they had.

Industrialization wasn't something as easy as wishing into existence or clicking some buttons like in those videogames, even though some did have the ability to summon entire factories out of the ether. In a sense industries are like any other complex organism, requiring a vast number of inputs to produce its supposed outputs, and not all those inputs are mindless raw materials. From finding the deposits of resources to training the millions of workers, it took the better part of a century… to lay the foundations of the subsequent industrialization, which that took the better part of another century.

Not every country advanced at the same rate, as the distribution of those isekais willing to work on the macro scale tend to be for some reasons be more prevalent in lands where there's less of oversized egos clashing. All that meant that by the turn of the 5th century the Empire of All Mankind was hopelessly far behind in terms of industrialization, and what signs of progress was mostly the results of foreign investments, investments that came with many strings attached. But like the puppet that is aware of his lack off free will, those strings caused many resentments, regardless of what benefits then brought. Not that most there even recognized the benefits to begin with, although many were quick to notice all the negativity.

On the flip side, it means that for the most part the majority of the humans still live in an existence that looked as if it came straight out of a picture book of the olden times. Of course those books neglect to mention minor inconveniences such as the infant mortality rate, rampant diseases, lack of nourishment, and the smell. Oh gods the smell, really ruins the otherwise picturesque image of countless small and timeless villages, but at least none of that's noticeable to those on passing trains…

The stations that they have stepped out of, along with numerous other tourists and people on more official business, is the central (and only) train station of Wyvernwald. As befitting of a train station in the capital of the Empire of All Mankind, the station complex itself was as grand as any on the continent, even though there was only less than half a dozen operating tracks, there simply weren't many other places inside the human kingdoms to connect to, given the overall lack of development in most of those places. Oversize aside the place was befitting of an institution of the Empire, which means that it's overly ostentatious and needlessly expensive. At least the implication being that someone in the imperial court wanted to make modernization in fashion, although given the mild state of disrepair it seems that wasn't in fashion for the past few years…

But still much of the splendor and grandeur remain, and everything aside it's a busy station, full of people going to and fo, on business or pleasure. The little group of tourists from Mandarin Island soon filed out of the station and into the city itself.

The station was located in one of the north sections of the city, a section where a number of other foreign influences could be seen, for example, the telegraph office, the power generators, and the water works. The section cordoned off from much of the rest of the city, as the huge and forbidding buildings filled with unnatural sights and sounds were beyond the comprehension of much of the illiterate and ignorant population. It was thus not a coincidence that it was also next to the legation section.

Industrial modernality aside, or precisely because of it, that part of the city is dirty, at least by most isekai standards, as most of them tend to be from developed countries in the early part of the 21st century and used to far higher standards. The air scented with the smoke of coal, the buildings caked with soot, and the streets filled their share of [literal] horseshit (well, how else are good supposed to be transported in a timely manner).

Yet for all that it was alive, filled with people who lived, worked, loved, suffered, and all the big and little things that makes the world so special and cherished.

"Okay, enough of the advertising mumbo jumbo." Jane said as Teg drone on and on, mostly reading verbatim from one of those travel guides, which seemed to have been written by some third rate hack writer.

"I take it you didn't travel much even in your previous life then?" Helen asked while Tag pulled out yet another travel guide seemingly out of nowhere and start reading that.

"Way too much hassles, especially since traveling to other countries have been much more difficult since the attacks on September 11."

"Oh, the attacks on the World Trade Center?" Helen said casually. Jane suddenly snapped around.

"How do you know that?" She demanded.

"All of you isekais from America talked about it at least a couple of times within the first year of arriving to this world. Must have left quite a scar on your national psych." Helen casually explained, Teg also nodded to that.

"Does give us an anchoring point in explaining some of our world's events in terms the likes of you would understand." He added. "Although come to think of it, it's not exactly all the isekais from freedomland, quite a few appeared to have been too young to remember that, or just too self centered to notice the wider world. Although there were only a few of the latter back home."

"True, all the ones too wrapped up in their own depraved fantasies tend to congregate in less modner places, where there's less checks on their powers." Helen added, then realized what she accidently implied which certainly wasn't helping in alleviating Jane's concerns. She immediately facepalmed while Tag merely cracked a shiteating grin, enjoying the hole that she just dug herself.

"So why did you all decided this place is safe enough?" Jane asked, pouncing on Helen's slip of the tongue.

"Who cares when you have a dragon in the group?" Teg said, almost proudly pointing at himself. Jane merely shrugged.

"Only intimidating against most threats of this world." She pointed out the one obvious flaw in his logic.

"Well, that's where the aluminum headwear comes in." He replied without missing a beat.

GIven the ever present threat of isekai mind controlling and altering powers, it was prudent for all but the poorest to find ways to mitigate the threat. Centuries ago some sage discovered tin's ability to resist attacks on the mind, and soon despite the high costs of the metal it found itself making its way into common fashion of various headwear. A further discovery in the last century was the discovery that the metal aluminium was even more potent in its anti mind control properties. The brightest minds of the world never figured out why such two different metals would have anything in common, perhaps their coloring? Anti-corrosion capabilities? The expenses involved in their extraction and refining? Some of the isekais seemed to have a clue, but no good answer was ever gotten out of any of them. Who the heck is Alex Jones and what does he have to do with anything of this world?

Regardless of the weirdness and mysteries surrounding those metals it was undeniable that they work, and by the middle of the last century tin have become a common part of everyday fashion even among the civilians who have never seen an isekai before. Meanwhile the rich and powerful migrated into wearing aluminum headwear, whether to flaunt their wealth or more pointedly paranoid about losing it all.

"Right…" Jane said, then shook her head, as if to clearing something from her mind. "I'm sorry for being such a party pooper." She said suddenly. "I know that you guys are really doing this for me and have me in your best interests, and here I am just throwing water on all your efforts."

"It's alright." Helen said, a bit taken back by Jane's sudden change of attitude.

"Happy to be of help regardless." Teg said cheerfully, simply glad that no one pointed out he was simply hitching a vacation with them to begin with…

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 5: More talk, less action​

"Well, what do you make of all this?" Ambassador Stemkumf, ambassador of the Axeon Union to the Empire of all Mankind, asked his counterpart from the Lasce Imperial State.

"I don't want to be pessimistic, but I doubt the reformer faction has enough pull at this point in time." Ambassador Neressia of the Lasce Imperial State answered. "They lost a lot of influence among the imperial court in recent years."

The two of them, along with a gaggle of other diplomats from the various countries of the old continent, were gathered at one of the numerous rooms of the imperial palace. It was a place set aside for them to discuss amongst themselves after observing the daily going ons of the imperial court that rules all of humankind, at least all of humankind that wasn't under the yoke or influences of all the other races of the old continent, which was still a lot.

"Right, and I wonder whose fault that was?" Stemkumf wondered sarcastically.

"We had casus belli." Neressia responded through gritted teeth, "Not to mention it's not our responsibility to be their keeper."

"Regardless, now we have an even more unstable giant, gathering more rage by the day."

"With enough bullets, even the gods could be slain."

"Not if they're bulletproof." Ambassador Daricon, ambassador of the Republic of Mundock, butted in. "Rumor has it that there are many among the recent arrivals to this world with abilities to negate our technological advantages."

"Which won't be the first time you lot have faced such problems, you guys should have the institutional experiences to deal with this kind of problems." Neressia remarked casually, attempting to fish for some tidbits of information that might help her nation in what might potentially to be shaping up to be a massive war of the century.

Sure, the rise of the so called incel movement so far has been merely a local to regional concern, purely domestic issues of the human kingdoms, but if the wars of the past century has taught anybody anything it's that if there's a bunch of isekai involved, it's certainly likely to end in country ending catastrophe of some flavor unless countered by overwhelming force or another batch of isekais. Regardless, it's a of pain and suffering in those incidents, even when war was avoided. Thus, it never hurts to be prepared, even if the majority of preparations tend to be rather futile in the end all things considered.

"Those institutional experiences kinda rotted away in the past half century." Daricon said bluntly. "With the buffer states in place our attention has been focused on the exploitation of Ironi."

"So… in the famous words of a certain isekai, 'we're borked'." Neressia muttered.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far." Stemkumf quickly said, "After all, those incels are only mass raping fellow humans on their side of the borders, and it doesn't look like that's going to change in the near future."

"Well, there's also their increasing influence in some of the kingdoms and by extension the imperial court itself, making the whole of humanity swinging more reactionary."

"How in the name of gods does those assholes wield such influences?" Neressia asked, to nobody in particular.

"Well, again, mostly because they promised the illusion of greatness and all we offered these days tend to demands of further concessions when not conducting outright war." Stemkumf said in a deadpanned voice.

The three were silent for a moment, it was a set of impossible goals that they were given from their government: to bring the humans to the modern age while exploiting them to the fullest extent in the meantime. So far the latter tend to far outweigh the former, much to the detriment of their reputation within the human kingdoms.

"So what cards do we have left to play these days anyway?" Neressia was the first to speak again. The bitterness obvious in her voice.

"The usual, incoherent screeching backed by the threats of arms, and praying that they won't notice the useless of the latter." Daricon said with grim humor.

"Sometimes I really wish the gods would give us a damn break for once." Neressia said, in a rare display of obvious frustration.

"I think we should stop calling them gods and just call them as the demonic hellspawns that they actually are." Stemkumf joked, although there wasn't a trace of humor in his voice. "There's no carrot to their stick as far as I could see."

"Welp, time to get back to work." Daricon said, looking at his pocket watch, "More listening to the rambling of fools while their country slowly burns from the inside out."

------

The last days of the slow death and fall of a once mighty empire tend to produce the greatest of farces, as either lone individuals make valiant but ultimately futile stand against the coming darkness, or fiddle around while the legacies of their ancestors crumble around them and the barbarians surge through the gates. The last days of the Empire of all Mankind was little different in that regard, for every isekai who fancied himself as the genius needed to prevent a French Revolution style collapse of the empire ten more lie in wait for their chance to lead hordes of assless chaps wearing barbarians in the expected 'Mad Max' style post apocalyptic hellscape. Both are of course outnumbered by the rising tide of the incel movement, who with each village and hamlet they descended upon their numbers of slaves and followers swell.

There is no hope left for the past, even if for the first time there were plenty of people gathering the last remnants of it, for historical curiosity's sake or more cynically as a warning to future generations.

This time, there will be no losing the memories to twisted into myth and legends, no whitewashing of supposed ancient heroes and their alleged noble actions. This time, there will the cold silent lens of the camera, bearing witness to horrors that no mortals could stomach.

……

Reporter Dave Jameson of the Luna Times was bored, looking out his hotel window he wondered what in the name of the gods prompted him to accept this posting to the heart of the human empire.

It sure wasn't the alleged prospect of adventure and excitement, he's too much jaded for that kind of cheap lies.

It wasn't for the supposed interest in a whole different culture, seemly still living out of the pages of a history book, he knew the reality was simply a morass of girm, filth, suffering, and oppression.

Ah, he remembered, it was to get away from his failures at home; two failed marriages (thank goodness the Union's laws concerning marriages and divorces are modern and secular, seeing it as more akin to contract than some sacred oath), a flopping novelist career, a gambling problem (not that he was losing, no, he was winning too much, and those angry orcs had knives and the rage to impulsively use them).

Well, doesn't matter what his decisions then were, just that now he's stuck in the heart of a dying country, if not a dying people, and slow death are always such a pain to watch…

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 6: The [incellic] rage awakening​

There isn't much to be said about the town of Eggenton, and if it weren't for the railroad and the steam engine it would not have been even a footnote in history. As such it was still mainly insignificant, whose existence on the map was only justified by the need for steam engine to replenish their water supplies, and Eggenton just happened to be around 80 kilometers across the border into the Empire. So the sleepy little hamlet duly received a train station (more like a couple of platforms and a ticket booth, the latter of which was rarely staffed), a small maintenance station (the region is too backward to be relying on things like water troughs, the infrastructure is simply not there), and some other smattering of modern amenities. None of those things matters to the inhabitants of the original village, who still goes around living lives that wouldn't be out of place since the dawn of recorded history. Tending to their fields and gardens, eking out the barest of existence from a once fruitful land long since declined into a worn existence, crushed by a people who themselves were crushed by high taxes and oppression from above.

On this rather clear ordinary day a passenger train, stopping to take on replenishment water. Most of the passengers deciding to stay in the train cars, as quite frankly there wasn't much to look at outside, nothing more than what they already seen on since they passed the border. Interestingly enough, most of the passengers riding the train were elves, many from the South Continent. It seems most of them were part of a tourist group or something, doesn't matter as long as their coin is valid.It's all just simple business.

Engineer Jigem was watching the water replenishment progress with the usual mild boredom, enjoying the moment to step away from the hot cab (sucks for the fireman, but this isn't a full stop so a low fire has to be kept). Despite the hard and monotonous nature of the job, the pay is good and the job itself does have a measure of dignity, which already makes it better than the majority of the job in the small village he grew up in. Also being able to see all sorts of sights over the years is a pretty good perk, even though most of said sights were rather similar. There are only so many ways to rearrange woods, fields, and hamlets after all.

Jigem was still half in his daydreams when the screams began.

Suddenly jerked out of his daze, he scanned his surroundings, quickly deducing that the noises were coming from the hamlet, and then he saw them; slabs of pure fat and ugliness that perhaps at some point were humans* that not so much as lumbered but sloshed through, but for all that carving a path of defiled wreckage through.

"Move a bit to the left, if you will please." A curt voice cut though his shock and horror, dragging him back to the matter at hand. He looks towards the sight of the voice, an elf, whose dark skin and blond hair marked her as a native of the south continent. He immediately shifted a couple of steps to his left.

The elf pointed a finger at the mass of raping blob making seemly making their way towards the station, it appears those… things have noticed the train and its passengers. A fireball shot out of her hand, crossed the distance as quick as an arrow slamming into them. When the smoke cleared, there was no effect. As Jigem grew more horrified, it was obvious that these vile monsters are much tougher than mere mortals.

Meanwhile the elf merely sighed and muttered, more to herself than for his benefit, "Welp, guess magic based attacks are not all that effective after all." She turned to a gaggle of other elves, who seems to have gotten out of the passenger cars to gawk at the unfolding horrors moving toward them.

"Might want to break out the fire crackers now." She merely said.

One of the other elves nodded, and opened a rather large carpet bag and took out a rather heavy looking cylinder, an object that Jigem immediately recognized as a rocket launcher.

He didn't have much time to wonder how in the name of the gods did a bunch of elven tourist managed to smuggled that level of serious firepower before the elf fired the launcher, a streak of flame flew towards the horrifying blob, making a rather louder explosion than the magic fireball before it.

Even before the smoke clears this time Jigem was already back in the cab. It's time to get out of there in a hurry. Of course, easier said than done, given the lead time it takes to get up to full steam even with a fire already burning on standby mode. Jigem was sweating profusely as he went through all the checks for getting underway in a blur, it's either certainly die now or a chance of the train exploding later, which is only a problem down the line if they lived long enough to see that to begin with. Precious, nail biting minutes passed before the train began to move, during which a few more streaks of flames flew forth, more rocket fire, along with copious amounts of gunfire. Seems these elves were more than just a mere tourist party, even the more insane hunting parties don't pack rocket launchers and machine guns.

Regardless of the insanity of his passengers, their firepower was bought enough time for the train to get away from the doomed hamlet.

As the horrific sights finally disappeared from the horizon and the train chugged along as faithfully as ever Jigem finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief.

Then he heard a cough behind him, and he saw that same elf as he turned around, looking slightly worse for wear but mostly in one piece.

"Sorry to disrupt your job keeping us on track.," She began, "but if possible could you and your buddy the fire stroker over there keep the events of what happened back there to yourselves?"

He could only nod, as even without the pistol that she was holding in her hand, her voice made it clear that she, and who or whatever she's working for, are not something he ever want any part of, never mind messing with.

"Could, could I at least ask, what the heck are those things?" He simply stammered.

She cocked her head for a moment, as if debating within herself whether to delverge the information or not, before speaking again. "An evolution, or more accurately speaking, a vile mutation of the isekai, you probably will here more about these 'incels' in the coming weeks and months. Pray that you will never have to face them again."

And with that cryptic message, she turned around and made her way back to the first of the passenger cars, leaving Jigem with more questions than answers, not that he was particularly eager to find any of those answers to those questions anytime soon...

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 7: Welcome to the past, part 2 (alternative title: stop overthinking things)​

The candied lemon peels was pretty good in terms of taste, akin to a less sweet version of Sour Patch Kids, although privately Jane wondered about the sanitation standards of the open air street stall they just bought those candies from. Neither Helen or Teg seems to be all that concerned however, but then again both of them are native to this world, not to mention the latter being a dragon.

Can dragons even get food poisoning? Even after living in this world for the better part of a decade by this point most of it was still an unknown to her. Then again, what she learned of this world through the newspapers and history books (their history books) generally run the gauntlet between horrifying and depressing; where the civilized orcs, dragons, and elves indulge in naked imperialism when not outright aping the worst of fascism, and the self styled "civilized" humans read like something straight out of a hentai doujin, and the less said about the horrors on the Ironi continent the better.

And most of all these issues could be laid directly at the feet of the humans from back on earth.

What sick deity would do such a thing to make this world such a cosmic joke? Wait, better not asking that, the answer is probably somewhere between sickening and horrifying.

"Your mind wandering off to dark places again?" Helen hazarded a guess. Jane flinched a bit, feeling a bit guilty. After all, Helen (and Teg too, come to think of it) were doing all this for her, the whole vacation and getting out to see more of the world, and all she could think of were how much she dislike it all, this world.

"Yeah." She admitted sheepishly, "Just can't help it at times." She answered lamely. Teg simply shrugged.

"Well, just remember you're not alone." He said.

"Teg's right you know?" Helen continued, backing him up, "Most of the isekais on our sides tend to have a of issues with homesickness, alienation, and related issues. We been treating these things for over a century now."

'Should have seen that coming.' Jane thought to herself. After all, given what amounts to thousands, no, tens of thousands of people being dumped into this world over this world's centuries, there would be plenty of people with the same issues as her.

She wasn't special by any means, isekais are a cliches after all, and cliches implies a oversaturation of the formerly unique, which makes them normal, perhaps overly so.

Ironically, that was the one thing she could live with very well, the last thing Jane wanted was to be special, and by extension the center of attention, like the time the wehraboo elves tried to kidnap her soon after her arrival to this world.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind a little. Perhaps they're right, she should just let loose a bit and enjoy this pseudo time travel vacation (although going from early 21st century earth to the steampunk world was already a bit of time travel).

And despite everything, there is still plenty of things to enjoy in a medieval metropolis especially the capital of the Empire of all Mankind, as long as one is a tourist, who by the simple fact of currency exchange rates (official or otherwise) is flushed with money compared to the locals, and being from more powerful countries meant that most would not fancy to do violence on them.

All the troubles of geopolitics, economics, social changes, and other affairs of great importance of surprisingly little influence on the daily lives of the inhabitants of the city, who still goes on living their lives bustling to and fo, doing all the things that makes the world go around, and life worth living.

People are people after all, and left to their own devices they tend to live out lives, for living is a purpose onto itself.

Besides the people there are still many sights to see; the huge (by medieval tech levels) palaces and churches, embodiment of the power and splendor of the emperor and the gods. The lively markets, of which hundreds of shops and stalls compete against each other to sell just about everything under the sun. Many of the buildings and statues were of unimaginable ancientness, or so the locals claimed (and no one has gone through the effort of carbon dating them, that would be an insult to the honor and integrity on the people).

In a sense, even some of initially flaws of the medieval world has taken a charm of their own, and Jane begin to appreciate the simple beauty of a society still living in much simpler times, so as long as she ignore the statistics behind the scenes. Life shouldn't be a mere numbers game after all, even if that's what many of the isekais seems to care about.

Jane was still immersed in simply living life for once that she didn't noticed that Helen and Teg had stopped to listen to a traveling bard. In a society were paper was still too expensive to be used for such trivial purpose as newspaper, and a population that's not literate enough to read them anyways the main way to get the news being through the oral tradition, and traveling bards being a critical part of that. She was almost about to walk off entirely when Teg noticed and casually dragged her back with a finger.

"Oh sorry about that." She said, "I was too busy enjoying the sights…" she dropped off as she noticed the worried expression of both Teg and Helen's faces. "What's wrong?"

"Newsboy over there is claiming that there have been a number of attacks on railroads by unidentified groups." Teg said curtly.

"Looks like we'll have to cut our vacation short. We'll head back to the hotel to pack our bags."

"It's that bad?" Jane asked, not really want to believe things were about to so south that quickly, especially given their little motivational talk earlier.

"Suffice to say it's better to play safe than sorry." Teg said.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 8: Your gods of cordite and tin, what are they good for now?​

It was somewhere in the wilderness, on the borders between true humanity and those who abandoned humanity and now are under the rule of the other races. A sight rapidly becoming a rarity on the old continent, that of the untamed wilds… which abruptly stopped at the border that marked the frontier between the Republic of Setwood and as of yet free humanity (ironic, free in the sense of free to be oppressed by their own kind, but that's besides the point).

A small column of troops, mainly humans along with a sprinkling of orcs, were crossing the border. A regiment of the Setwood army, their simple march would have been an act of war in more normal times. But times were not normal, not with the few reports the rest of the world was receiving from the few telegraphs that managed to get some message out before they too, went silent.

Potential war or not, something must be done, besides bickering like hens of course, which was what the politicians were all doing in the meantime while it appears that the Empire of all Mankind was eating itself from the inside out.

"What threats do you think that's out there?" Colonel McAllister, the nominal human commander of the regiment, asked.

"Probably isekai related, the bastards never learn." Lieutenant Borkmen, the military liaison from the Union, general advisor, and the real authority of the regiment, said curtly.

"This time is really bad is it?" McAllister seems rather worried. "I mean, for all news from over there to suddenly be cut like strings from a marionette."

"Eh, I wouldn't worry too much about that." Borkmen dismissed the concern, "It's just that we young ones are so used to all this modern technology. Heard in the stories that back in the old days the first signs of coming doom tend to be ominous dark storm clouds."

He paused for a moment, "Besides, we got cordite and tin, and that trumps the old iron and blood." He shrugged. "Just remember your mission.

McAllister nodded. This is merely a reconnaissance in force, not an invasion or even intervintation. Quite frankly he agreed with the orders. Them 'free' human over yonder can kill each other to their heart's' content for all he cares, but it's everybody's problem if their insanity spills over, which seems to be the case these days.

"Contact!" A voice shouted, so joined by copious sounds of gunfire in the distance as the skirmish line let loose volleys of shots from their bolt action rifles. While the Union was leery of giving their puppets heavy weapons such as artillery or machine guns they do provide the infantry with the latest in small arms, the reasoning being that in times of war the Setwood army would be folded into the Union's military, which would make their lack of heavier pieces a moot point. Meanwhile if they dare to do something such as declare full independence from the Union then that same lack of heavier pieces would mean that their resulting struggle would most likely be short, fruitless, and painful.

"Well, get to it. You know your duties." Borkmen mere said, McAllister nodded, and begin to give orders as the rest of the regiment turned towards the threat.

As they made their way to the sounds of combat the level of gunfire seems to drop off. However, it was not the sound of victory. No, it was… eerie, as if the strings were suddenly cut from puppets. As they got closer they could hear occasional screams of terror from their forces, only to be suddenly cut off in the same fashion.

Then they saw them, the lumbering masses of flesh and fat, slowly making their way forward, shrugging off rifle rounds like mere summer rain, an unholy red glow encompass their vile bodies.

So horrified they were at the sight of those monsters that it was a half a minute (an eternity on the modern battlefield) before they noticed the fate of the skirmish line.

It was not a pretty sight, listless bodies, the life and soul has long since gone out of their eyes, now merely the mindless puppets of those monsters.

As they watched the sight unfold in front of them, another number of soldiers lost their souls. First the tin from their helmets simply flew off, overwhelmed by the mind control magic of whatever foul powers those enemies possessed. Then the light of their eyes simply gone out of them, and they dropped their weapons and stumble towards the other direction, now merely soulless husks to a new master.

To his credit, McAllister was quick to recover. He immediately turned towards one of the nearby soldier, who was carrying a large wicker box on his back. "Quickly, send a message back to command. Inform them that we are facing a new enemy, one that can negate our guns and tin."

The soldier nodded, and he begin to unpack in preparation for the release of a carrier pigeon.

Meanwhile Borkmen was organizing a retreat, or 'tactical withdraw' as he calls it. As he was about to move forth with a few men to form a vanguard he turned towards McAllister one last time.

"Whatever happens, they need to know. Everyone need to know what happened here." Then he casually walked off to his death.

At least it was a quick death, as his head merely exploded along with his tin plated helmet.

The vanguard bought precious minutes. It wasn't enough to save any of the regiment, but it was enough to save the pigeons, who flew faster than the mind control radius' expansion, or perhaps they were deemed not important enough.

As McAllister and the last remnants of his regiments were about to be overrun he put the barrel of his sidearm in him mouth. He was not going to die a meat puppet, and pulled the trigger.

There were no survivors of the regiment saved for five carrier pigeons.

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 9: Well, shit​

"Just what in the name of the gods are those things?" General Kulak asked, to no one in particular, as he shuffled through reports after reports bearing grim tidings.

While the Stone Loaves were as ugly as ever on the outside if somewhat bigger than they were since the beginning of the century, the insides of it has evolved quite with the times. Electric lighting, air conditioning, telegraphs and internal telephone lines. Rumor has it that a radio station is in the planning stages. Through it all it was still the same buildings in which the first offensive against humanity was planned almost a century ago.

Now, as it was then, the mood was still rather cynical, but that's nothing new as far as anything that has to do with isekais are concerned.

The reports from the frontiers of their protectorate the Republic of Setwood, as well as from every other country who border the Empire of all Mankind, were disturbing in the extreme: entire groups of soldiers, some of brigade sizes, were simply swallowed up by the coming threat. The few that managed to send a message, usually via carrier pigeons but at least in one case also telepathy, paints a picture of a new terror, far more potent than anything any of them had faced before in their countries entire history.

"As we of the isekai community and the Lost Bureau have been trying to tell you and the flesh sacks in parliament for years now, we are seeing an incel rebellion of unholy proportions." Jared Hartman, an isekai residing in the union, and more relevantly an operative of the Union intelligence service. Not the flashest or the most competent, but nothing wrong with his service performance either. Overall quite normal, which in itself is rather abnormal as far as isekais are concerned.

"I'm still not exactly sure what the heck is an incel, first off all." Kulak begin…

"To put it in the simplest terms, they are losers who can't get laid back on planet earth, and who have built their existence and identity around that failure. Generally they are also extremely misogynistic and from their stays in this world, pretty racist too."

"Still, what does all this has anything to do with the current problems we are seeing?" Kulak asked, his patience wearing thin, as so far nothing from either the written or verbal reports made much sense.

"Their rage, of which their entire life has been based on, has been manifesting and fueling their magical powers. Which is quite more powerful than anything we have seen previously in any isekai communities."

"So, why now?"

"Well, this has been going on for a while now but everyone was sticking their heads in the sand and pretending the problem isn't there. This current incel uprising is literally a backlash against the march of history for the past decades. They came here to escape from their world, but that world is coming to this one regardless."

"I'm a general, not a historian. Don't try to dazzle me with rhetoric bullshit. So basically it's a long simmering problem coming to a boil and we need to beat them down now."

"Basically, yes."

"Well that's not gonna happen, at least as part of a coalition of nations."

"I thought you are merely a general."

"To paraphrase a famous general from your world, 'war is merely continuing politics by other means.'". He cracked a cheerless smile. "Not to mention you need more than two for a gangbang."

"We need all the countries in a united front for intervention do we?"

"Of course. Everybody's a backstabber these days, that's why you want to keep them where you can see their guns."

"Well, the elves are already getting rather trigger happy." Hartman flipped through some files, finding the one he wanted after a moment. "They and their puppets have been moving the majority of their rail artillery to the frontiers, and rumors were that they been running barrages on any unusual activities on the other side of the borders, which does corroborate with their recent heavy munition expenditures."

"Well, no surprise that the stereotypical rape victims are the most freaked out about the next apex predators in sexual assault." Kulak said, secretly relishing the thought of the pointy ear fascists not having things their way for once.

"Wouldn't that make them more desperate?"

"They wouldn't dare, they should have read enough trashy novels by this point to know that whatever extreme acts they do will almost certainly backfire on them."

"Desperate people are rarely rational though."

"Well then, we'll save the fallout from that for the politicians. Thanks the gods I'm a simple soldier."

"Acknowledged."

"All that being said the army will partially mobilize. After all, if similar conversations were being had elsewhere, we can be certain everyone is thinking of the same things." He paused for a moment. "The beast is dying, and the vultures have gathered. We are the vultures here."

"Wait a minute, the army can partially mobilize?" Hartman suddenly realized something rather out of place.

"What do you take the army for, a bunch of savages? The Guns of August is required reading for the general staff after all."

"Wait how do… never mind." Hartman decided some things are better off unanswered.

------

Meanwhile in the Lasce Imperial State, a similar yet vastly different conversation was also taking place in the heart of the Hall of Assembly.

"So the bastards are bulletproof and magicproof." Amberea said, a simple statement. Throwing a stack of reports she has been reading on the desk, sighed and looked at the gathering of generals and other military bigwigs. "Not to mention capable of overwhelming traditional tin plating and other such anti magic wards."

"Well, technically, they appears to be merely bullet resistant. According to certain reports the average number of rounds…" One of the generals begin.

"Irrelevant. We cannot afford that level of conventional expenditure anyways. Not when the rest of the loons are waiting for us to overreach. I believe it's high time we deploy the more unconventional weapons."

"My fuhrer, Surely you're not suggesting we break out the Zyklon B this early?" Another general asked, taken aback by the suggestion to open the pandora's box.

"Not that, that's for the concentration camp we'll be building to dispose of the stragglers. I'm talking about the chlorine and phosgene gas."

A collective gasp erupted from the generals. Amberea didn't even bat an eye.

"Why not?" She continued, merely shrugged, "We're already paying the penalty by our mere existence, so might as well reap the bitter fruits of our labor." The simmering anger was barely audible, but still there all the same.

"It's still a world of difference if we break such sacred conventions in actual fact." The first general spoke up.

"Yes, they will rage, maybe cancel some arms deals. The usual. What they will not do is to attack us directly." Amberea stated.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because we will have shown our resolve in using any weapons, no matter how forbidden. With one foot in that door, they have no choice but the gashing of their teeth, or plunge the world in a darkness beyond the worst of the legends. I think even the most firebrand warhawk over yonder will pause before that. Not to mention we're not using it on them."

"It's still a gamble though."

"Imperium audet fortunati." Was merely what Amberea answered with, although no one in the room (including Amberea herself) knew any latin, given that it wasn't a language of their world, the general idea wasn't lost given the sheer pop culture osmosis many of them received. Just as well, it's not like said phrase made any sense, or rather arrogant, not that the Imperial State was unfamiliar with such mentalities. She then continued, "Now with that out of the way, the casus belli. What's the latest status on Oesa and her crew?"

"Somewhere near the capital. An incel band finally got the train they were on." A colonel barked out, "They are running low on ammunition but otherwise stable on supplies. Oh, and they don't have any maps of the region they're currently."

"Well then, we must hurry and mobilize some forces then." Amberea said in a voice as cold as the night stars. The military staff then realized, in the deepest sense, that to her, no one really matters except as pawns for her scheme, or lambs to be sacrificed on the altar of geopolitical necessity. She continued, "How many troops can we have in a fortnight?"

"The introduction of aluminium plated helmets has been going on slowly due to the costs, we currently have around two brigades since…"

"I am not asking how many we can safely deploy in light of recent findings. I am asking how many we can deploy in total, regardless of their readiness."

There was a collective sucking in of breath among the gathered. Seems the fuhrer is dead set on more bloodletting of the most horrific fashion.

"A… around four divisions my fuhrer." the colonel stammered. "Including three companies of combat golems."

Amberea nodded. "Well then, get to it." She waved a hand, signalling the end of the meeting.

As the military staff begin to file out, she suddenly spoke again, as if an afterthought to herself. "It might take decades, or even centuries. But history will vindicate us."

------

The storms of war once again gathered on the old continent, the lands as ready as ever to receive the blood of thousands. As usual, the people believe that this time it will be different, yet the more things change the more they stay the same.

The savage nature never left, and now the veneer of civilization is about to be cast aside.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 10: Doors are locked, y'all are stuck in this level​

"Well, this is not good." Teg stated nonchalantly, as he, Helen, and Jane looked at the closed train station.

Well, to say the station was closed might have been an understatement. All the windows have been boarded over and not a single light to be seen within. As if the building has all but been abandoned. In fact, it probably had, though not like it matters much as the trains had stopped coming in for a while by this point.

That's the problems with vacationing in places where media technologies tend to be lagging behind, as sometimes the difference between fresh and stale news being a matter of life and death, and it seems that main way to avoid the latter has just been cut off.

"Well, there's always the option of hiking all the way to the nearest civilized country." Helen said, not even having any faith in her own idea.

"Besides the sheer distance involved, over a thousand kilometers I believe, through mostly untamed lands that's probably infested with who knows how many raping incel gangs. None of us actually has the relevant maps." Teg pointed out the obvious.

"So what now?" Jane asked.

"Well, first we head back to the legation quarter." Helen begin, "Then we see if anyone there got any good ideas. There's has to be someone with some contingency for this kind of emergencies."

"Wait, I thought it's mostly diplomats and tour guides there?" Jane asked.

"The former tend to have guards around them like flies and most of the latter are probably spies." Teg said. "What, surely you don't think they are what they claimed?" He added, after seeing Jane's shocked expression.

"Alright enough talking, let's go." Helen said, while turning her head around to scan their surroundings, which was not looking too good either.

Contrary to what some of the more popular fiction (of both worlds), the release of the true magnitude of the incel/isekai problem didn't plunge the humans in the city into headless panic. After all, it won't be the first time that some great threat has come forth in yet another attempt to ruin everything good and wholesome, and surely once again they'll be defeated by the heroes. It has barely dawn to them that this time, the threat was coming from the supposed heroes who were supposed to save the world. A world that quite frankly, doesn't exist and hasn't been for decades.

The solution has become the problem, unfortunately by the time of realization it was far too late to prevent the coming storm already brewing.

However, that wasn't to say the city was completely oblivious to the events from far away (and not so far away): there were far fewer stalls and shops open, and what ones that were open were mostly out of goods as any who had the means have already bought what they could. The streets themselves much less active, as was the city overall. Many (mainly humans of the kingdoms) took their chances and fled the city on foot, a choice the vast majority would soon regret.

…...

"You know what? This does make me feel slightly better." Helen said as the trio walked through the gates and into the legation quarter.

They being far from the only ones stranded. The central plaza was filled with all sorts of people. Elves, humans, orcs, and even a couple of dragons milling around. Worry lined most of their faces, as most of them were the idle rich, second or even third generation of the rich and powerful, born into wealth and power, expecting the world to revolve around them. This time, however, is a time or rude awakening, and much akin to the superstition that the ending of a dream of dying ends in actual death, not all will survive this rude awakening.

"In the sense that there are people even less prepared than us?" Jane asked, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't exactly mark you as the sadistic type."

"You have no bloody clue…" Teg begin, although quickly cut off when an orc in the uniform of the combined legation police force made his way towards them.

"Anyone here with any knowledge on fighting? Especially with firearms?" the uniformed orc said wearily, not even bothering with a greeting such was his weariness.

"About that," Teg begin, "I would like to retrieve my bags from our hotel suite…"

"The rocket launcher with three reloads, heavy crew service machine gun with 2,000 rounds of ammo, 3 shotguns, 2 500M Special bolt action rifles, 6 revolvers, 3 semi-automatic pistols, and a landmine." The orc ratted off without missing a beat.

"Yes… wait, what the heck?" Teg said, surprised. "How do you-"

"Look. If you haven't noticed yet we're kind of desperate for any weapons here. You can file a reimbursement after the crisis. If we're still alive that is." He said, seemly more weary than ever.

"Why in the name of the gods did you pack a bloody landmine?!?" Helen finally butted in.

"For hunting purposes." Teg muttered unconvincingly.

"Hey guys," the uniformed orc tries to calm the situation, "We're really grateful for his, um, hunting cache."

"I hate to ask, but what's going on?" Jane finally spoke up.

"Incel groups have taken over much of the surrounding regions, and rumors has it they're heading for the city to kill every foreigner. That's us by the way." He said, and put out a hand. "Constable Pumfee of the combined legation police force, at your service."

Jane shook his hand, still in a daze of sorts. Then Pumfee turned towards Helen and Teg again.

"I'm assuming that both of you have some experience with firearms." He said, getting back to his original question.

"Pretty much." Helen muttered, still mildly annoyed at the extent of Teg's arsenal. While she figured that he would pack some guns, given hsi fetish towards those thing, she wasn't expecting the sheer amount of heavy armaments he did managed to pack. No wonder the bastard couldn't afford a vacation of his own.

Pumfee then turned towards Jane, "Mam, do you have any useful skills? Sorry to be so blunt about it."

"I… know a bit of water magic." Jane managed to stammer out. Her mind still mostly freaking out over the horrifying specter of incels overrunning the city and committing unspeakable horrors on them.

"Good, please report to the water treatment plant over there for further instruction." He pointed towards a large ugly cement building with numerous piping protruding from it. "Sorry for being so coarse, but right now the legations quarters are under martial law, and we need every body and talent we can get our hands on." Pumfee seemed to be rather uncomfortable telling Jane what to do, even though he seemed to have no such problems with either Helen or Teg.

Helen was the first to notice that. "What's so special about her?" She asked Pumfee.

"I thought she was part of your group?" Pumfee asked.

"Yes she is." Teg said. "What of it?"

"Where the heck are you people from if being around a deity is not unusual?" He asked incredulously.

"Oh good grief here we go again." Helen sighed, "For the how many time Jane is not a deity, no matter how much bullshit you been reading or hearing. Just because she matches the apprances and possibly powers doesn't mean she's one."

For a moment it seemed that Pumfee was about to argue the point before quietly dropping it. "Please come with me to the police armory." He merely said, "We have a lot of work to do."

"I call dibs on my machine gun. I'm probably the most qualified being to handle it anyways." Teg said as they begin to walk towards the armory.

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 11: technicality exploit​

"I think we're lost." Jenvessa said, as the group of elves trudged through the unfamiliar forest.

"We been lost since we stepped off the train." Oesa remarked, seemingly somewhat cranky.

One could hardly blame her, given the circumstances of the events leading up to a group of badly disguised elves wandering somewhere in the vast untamed wilderness deep within the territory of unconquered humanity.

It was such a simple plan: get to Wyvernwald, make some threatening gestures towards the human imperial government and bully them to get them to get off their arse and do something about the incel infestation. All while under the guise of concerned but influential civilians.

Well, the plan was derailed, literally, before they even got to within 50 kilometers of Wyvernwald (best guessmate, although in reality no one really had much of an idea just how close or far they are from the human capital). The incels were significantly more bold than even the most pessimistic and cynical forecasts. Who the heck thought they would in effect unilitarly enrage the entirety civilized world? Then again they were spoonfed since their earth days that they are supposed to be the heroes who can take on the world and win.

Sometimes Oesa wondered just how damn crazy that earth must be, as from what intel from the other nations have suggested that what they're dealing with are in fact merely the scraps and rejects of earth.

Damn lucky there isn't a full size portal connecting the two worlds, or whoever or whatever that's sending these incels aren't sending the best of earth.

Regardless though they're in a hostile territory with no good maps, low ammunition, and not much of a plan beyond surviving and getting to the general direction of their original goal, which seems further away than ever before.

"Probably should have followed the railroads more closely." One of the other elves in the group spoke up.

"We did, until we unloaded the bulk of our ammo on one of those roving incel bands." Oesa said bitterly. "Which only bought us enough time to get lost into the woods.

Perhaps it was ironic, actually, it's pretty much the height of irony, if not a punchline to a joke, that a group of elves being lost in the forest. Ever since being freed from adhering to the stereotype of being tree hugging hippies the elves proven that in fact, stereotypes were pretty much bullshit most of the time. Whatever natural affinity they had with the forest was moot as they embraced modernity with great gusto, as whatever vegetation they incorporate into their urban planning was firmly subordinate to the needs of modern infrastructure and vanity.

In reality, elves are more natural city dwellers than tree hippies. Doubly so for the paper pushers and camp guards that make up the State Security Service. Thus the unhappy group wanders around semi-aimlessly in the seemingly endless forest.

"I'm picking up something." One of the elves sudden spoke up. "Strong presence of mana… over there." She pointed toward a direction somewhere to their right.

"Northwest."Oesa muttered. If they ever get back, she thought to herself, she's definitely going to get the Security Service to implement some outdoors courses. Or scheme the destruction of all untamed nature, whichever one being easier. Who the heck knows these days, people are dumb and machinery seemingly all powerful.

"Should we be heading towards it though?" Jenvessa asked, not unreasonably.

"It's either that or dying slowly in these woods once we run out of the rest of our supplies." Oesa pointed out. "There are no good choices right now."

"Point taken."

……

As the group made their way closer to the detection of the strong concentration of mana they were once again reminded the sad fact that there are plenty of worse fates than death in their world. The screams rang out far before they could seen the cause of them, shortly followed by other more horrifying sounds that signals incels enjoying their latest victims.

"Welp, time to turn around." Jenvessa said, "We all seen enough hentai to know what's happening over there, and our guns and magic are useless against those bastards."

Meanwhile Oesa was looking at her surroundings, which are still the trees that are same throughout the rest of the forest. She then nodded to herself.

"Direct magic doesn't work, and it takes a lot of force to take them down." She muttered to herself. "Well then, time to go back on some old tricks." She sat down, cross legged.

Then the trees around them begin to move, uprooting themselves with creaking and shrieking of the damned themselves. Of course, the modern scientific answer being that plant cells, having cell walls, are not designed to be movable, and just because extreme amount of mana forcing the issue doesn't mean such a violation of the natural order is painless.

But as the old saying goes, put enough thrust and a brick will fly, put enough mana and even the boulders will move. No one ever claimed that the moving would be painless though, and it's not like the trees have mouths to express the amount of pain they're going through.

Regardless, they no longer had a choice in the matter, and the now animated trees lumbered forth at the unseen direction of the dark elf channeling her mana, towards the sounds of unspeakable horrific acts being committed.

The rest of the elves in the little group watched as the trees lumbered off, soon swallowed up by the rest of the forest. It took a bit longer for the sounds they made to recede into the distance as well, but that came along soon enough.

Then came the sounds of more screaming, soon joined by screeching and the unmistakable sounds of wood snapping, and possibly an explosion or two, although what caused those was anyone's guess, and probably something no one really want to find out in any detail.

Then Oesa simply collapsed, and the rest of the group diverted all their attention to her. It was only after they stabilized her condition (only mana exhaustion, unsurprising given the amount necessary to uproot and command a dozen fully grown trees) did they realized an eerie silence has descended in the distance.

Well, something happened.

……

"So precise application of brute force still works as fine as ever." Jenvessa commented casually while survey the devastation of the village. "As long as there's enough of it to throw around."

Oesa merely nodded, still rather worn out from her little stunt with the trees.

And what devastation, as there was no a single house left standing. Although it's not as impressive as it sounds at first, as most of the buildings were simple straw and thatch construction, generally lacking in even foundations. Meanwhile a half dozen or so trees were spewn around, one even upside down in the middle of what was passed for the village square.

As for the bodycount, it was rather hard to tell. Well, at least it's hard to count how many incels were involved, as most were torn limb from limb in best case, and in the worst cases, simply torn to shreds. They did managed to take out a half dozen full sized moving trees, wooden splinters littered the landscape, along with some larger pieces such as branches and slices of trunks. Quite a few of the wreckage suffered the telltale scorch marks of fire burns.

And then there's the rest of the humans, the original inhabitants of the now almost non-existent village. The few examples still alive that is. Already not in the best of shapes given their hand-to-mouth existences, the incel raid and the subsequent fight with the moving trees did them no additional favors. Now they looked at the group of elves with sullen eyes, too tired and broken to move or even care as to their fate.

"So what now?" One of the others in the group asked.

"Ask for directions." Oesa finally muttered.

"Acknowledged." Jenvessa nodded, and went off to the villagers, brandishing a pistol as she went.

And so the spoils go to the victors as the elves poke and prodded around the ruins of the village for useable supplies, which wasn't much. It was a pre-industrial village after all, far off the beaten path from anything important. The villagers simply stood and watched, just another group of fiends taking what they want. It's merely the natural order working as it had for thousands of years, the strong take what they want, and the weak bear what they can. Out here, justice only comes in the form of a naked blade.

After a while, suddenly, one of the elves spoke up.

"Detecting another spike in mana concentration!" She shouted, "Bearing… thataways." She pointed towards a direction somewhere to the west. Oesa muttered a couple of choice words.

"Time to get the heck out of here." She merely said wearily. The rest nodded, and quickly regrouped. The villagers soon realized what's happening, and for the first time a different expression appeared on their faces.

Fear.

But there's nothing that could be done, and soon the elves were on their way of getting lost in the woods again, as Jenvessa's attempt at getting directions was not all that fruitful, and they themselves were terrible at following what little directions there were in any setting without conveniently places signposts.

They were barely out of sight of the former village when the screams begin again.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 12: 55 days in Wyvernwald​

Wyvernwald was in flames. Well, parts of it it anyways, mostly the mundane parts of the city. It would be ironic if it weren't for the depressing fact that it's rather well known that saviors tend to destroy the very things that they set out to save. Thus it came to be that the arrival of the incels to drive the filthy orcs, elves, and dragons out of sacred human lands simply sparked rioting and looting of epic proportions. The few city guards, already sympathetic to the incels to a certain extent (mainly in driving out the foreigners), were only too happy to fan the flames of chaos. It was a time to settle old scores and score new loot.

While the imperial court and the nobles watched on helplessly but safely in their grand palaces and castles as the city burned merrily before their eyes the situation was similar but also at the same time very different over at the Legation section.

The walls of the Legation section, which despite their faux medieval appearances were constructed with the best reinforced concrete elven money could buy (as both the orcs and dragons were far less concerned about the dangers of rioting mobs than the elves, who seemed to have assumed that all humans were only a couple of steps away from caricatures straight out of hentai). The overly ostentatious fake-ish fortification finally came in handy though, as the tops of the walls were patrolled by a ragged collection of Legation police, diplomatic guards, intelligence agents (some of those paper pushers still seemed to have problems figuring out which end of the gun they should be pointing at the enemy), and random tourists, the last of which were still mainly excited than anything else, mostly because they have yet been exposed to the real bloodletting and horrors unique to isekai fueled civil disturbances.

Needless to say, while the various departments and agencies had plans in place for various contingencies for such disturbances, but none with each other, especially not with those of other countries, rivals and even potential enemies they might have been, now all thrown in the same crisis. The orcs of the Republic's embassy were ready to make a 'thunder run' and even had a truck ready, which they claimed will strike terror in the hearts of all isekais. That plan was shelved when the engine simply refused to start, as the truck itself was left in storage without maintenance for over half a year (the rest of the city's medieval, nowhere to use it anyways).

In the end, everyone decided that the best course of action was to sit tight and hope that their countries would come and rescue them.

Then the telegraph lines were cut, and they became more cut off than ever before.

……

"Remember, women and children first." Buntoc said as he took another potshot with his rifle at a fleeing woman carrying her infant child through an alleyway. His voice and actions as cold as the great northern mountains. The shot missed by at least three meters.

"How about you use a little tact and not talk about this in front of a reporter?" Teg tried his best not to simply facepalm while eyeing Jameson just a couple of meters away, busily jotting down notes or sketching, whatever reporters do normally when on the job.

"Why not? Pretending the ugliness of the world doesn't exist will only make it harder to clean up said ugliness." Buntoc retorted as he took another potshot, again going wide.

Teg merely sighed, went over to the reporter, grabbed him easily in one hand, and dropped him off the inner side of the wall. It wasn't a long drop, merely less than a meter until he came in contact with the roof of a building, a general store of all things.

"So you come over to my way of thinking I see." Buntoc barely glanced over.

"No, but since I can't fix your psychopathic tendencies right now I can at least hid it from the general public for a bit longer." Teg growled.

"Figures, you milita types are really just civilians roleplaying military." Buntoc fired another shot. Another miss, this time missing a child by five meters. The streets, already rather empty, now approaching absolutely deadness, only the rats and other vermin dare to crawl forth, too insignificant to warrant even stray shots. "Too soft to be able to make the hard choices when it counts."

"Says the tough talker who seems incapable of hitting the wide side of a building, never mind a moving target of any size." Teg shot back, the words more biting as he merely used his normal voice and vocabulary, the contents need no embellishment.

"Not like bullets are all that useful, given what we know of the threats ready to assault this place. Not to mention one less civilian means less fuel source for the incels."

"Suppression fire is still a thing, as is kinetic energy from impact. Old instincts die hard. Not to mention you'll look less like a psychopath." Teg give up on convincing the obviously bonkers intelligence officer of the madness of his thinking.

Teg himself might be a trigger happy gun fetishist, but he drew the line on shooting unarmed civilians in the name of denying resources to the enemy.

------

It took a while, as all research related matters when the topic being controversial and the subjects too dangerous to be observed at any but at distance, for some (mainly those whose jobs are to study such matters) to figure out the horrifying way in which the incels gain power. IN hindsight, it wasn't that surprising given their mentalities and whatever ironic and sadistic logic that the world seems to cater to the more depraved isekais.

It still doesn't morally justify shooting women and children, but morality was rapidly becoming a luxury in the besieged section. Hard times calls for hard men to make hard choices.

No… no, no. It shouldn't be that way. The forces of evil must be denied on all fronts, even in the battlefields of the soul, battles that many have already lost, and many more in the process of losing.

------

Bullets were not the only things in short supply, nor military personnels the only ones losing their temper and sanity. Since the beginning of the siege all contact with the rest of the world has been effectively cut off; the water pipes cut (although the legation section has their own water treatment plant), as were power and telegraph lines. The roads that weren't blocked with rubble were filled with roving incel bands, hellbent on raping anything that's alive, be they humans, elves, dragons, or even cats.

……

Pumfee slumped into a wall, utterly drained from dealing with yet another day full of whining and insufferable brats. It would be a lot of efficient to simply throw them out of the compound and let the incels have their way with them, then maybe the rest of them might actually have a fighting chance. Then again, surviving long enough just to be thrown in a court for throwing civilians to their certain doom is also a pretty lousy option.

"Tired?" Jane, who was leaning on the wall next to him and also seemingly just as tired, asked.

"Exhausted." Was all he could get out.

"It's like running a kindergarten isn't it?"

"If you mean heading a large number of undisciplined children, yes. That would be the case." He thought to himself for a moment. "How come you aren't like them?" He finally asked.

"My life in the previous world was solidly middle class."

"So were most isekais…" Pumfee begin, then he noticed the glare Jane, a glare of pure, distilled rage.

"Forget I said that." He lamely finished.

"Don't, ever, ever, compare me to them." Jane said through gritted teeth.

"Yes mam."

"And drop that deterrence act, I ain't nobody special."

"The blue hair and the water purification abilities beg to differ." Pumfee said, silently thankful of the fact, since the water treatment plant had been unable to meet the higher demand while losing much of the usual electric and personnel that normally needed to run it.

Jane merely snorted, "I don't get why people are still all over those little mundane powers."

Pumfee decided to drop the topic, too tired to explain the fine nuances of magic and mana usage, not that he himself knew much of it. Once seen as a race wide curse of sorts, now in the age of machines and science the general many have wonder if it was a blessing in disguise. After all, the cray crays tend to be rather limited instead of potentially entities of mass destruction.

Life and societies has become too complex for rampaging nutjobs with actual powers. Case in point the current crisis.

…...

"This isn't looking good." Pimu muttered, reviewing the remaining inventory.

"No they are not." Helen agreed.

As with all sieges, rationing was instituted as soon as the gates were locked. However, the problem was as always the civilians, specifically those of the upper class, who are not used to hardships of any kind. Thus it was a constant fine line between preventing the spoiled brats from rioting by robbing paul to pay for peter while keeping an eye on the irreplaceable supplies.

"At least the one thing we don't have to worry about is water rationing, thanks to your friend."

"You don't need to remind me that every day."

"Hard not to when no one seems to have an idea how long her mana reserves will last."

"And you think a little bit of faith on your part would help?"

"Think more of it as reassuring my own mental state, what's left of it anyways." He paused for a moment, "Say, how come you aren't like most of them?"

"You mean like a spoiled little bitch?"

"I wasn't thinking in those coarse terms, but yes, especially when half of your grandparents being isekais."

"They weren't normal isekais, and for all their faults at being parents and grandparents, they at least tried to instill good values on their descendants." She sighed, "Not that it did much good, given what most of us ended up as. A bunch of greedy bastards hellbent on stuffing ourselves while the going was good."

"I'm sorry if I touched a nerve."

"It's fine, we probably won't live long enough as is, might as well let out our last confessions."

"You think it's really that bad?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the expert?"

"Given what the government pays me? I doubt it. Then again, we been crying wolf so many times that we have learned to just ignore our own findings."

"And so here we are."

"I suppose the shepherd boy was telling the truth the last time, didn't do him much good though. Speaking of which, I always wondered did the wolves ate him too or just all the sheep that he was supposed to protect? I never got a concrete answer from all the isekais I talked to."

"Probably because there was a number of different versions of the story."

"Well damn it I can't even get an answer to a simple question in my last days."

"Welcome to life, cheerful isn't it?"

------

Sieges weren't just hard on the bodies from the rationing of supplies, they also took their toll on the minds, as distilled, it's just a mind waiting game, with potentially a terrifying surprise at the end.
​

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 13: Silent war, unholy war​

Another dawn begins again on the land formerly known as the border between the Lasce Imperial State and the Empire of all Mankind as it has been for the past few month, with the symphony of the artillery from the elves.

On this day however, while the guns themselves boomed as loudly as ever, the shells they flung were not. Oh they whistled through the air as like other shells from the previous months, but they landed without the expected flaming explosions.

Then the clouds begin to rise from the open shells, the touch of death dropping all those it came in contact with. Little fuss, little noise, just death.

Chemical warfare has finally graced its deadly presence on the battlefield.

……

The lines of soldiers slowly advanced through the deadly clouds, as silent as the chemical weapons they passed. Clad in gas masks and bundled in protective clothing that belies their size, hand signals and flags being the only ways they communicate with each other and the rest of the army. Following them were the artillery, drawn by golems who ignored the chemicals, much as they ignored the weather regardless of what's coming down from the skies. It was the one endearing feature that made the Imperial State so invested in them over traditional horses, despite their much higher costs.

Meanwhile in the skies squadrons of witches, who scan the land ahead, ready to rely and potential threats back to the rail artillery, of which were already aiming higher, their crews ready with more charges.

The vultures have begun to descend on the dying empire, and the pickings are many to be had.

------

Meanwhile on the borders between the Orcs (and their human puppets) and humanity the invasion was far more conventional, the orc war machine lunges forward… and stops. Taking halting steps forward, slaved to the needs of the autocannon and field artillery teams to set up covering positions and the packing when the forces moved beyond the range of their support.

The incellic rage might make them bullet resistant, but that just means bigger guns were needed. Penetration isn't the only point of bullets and shells and shrapnel. Kinetic force in sufficient quantities also do the trick well enough, never mind more exotic ammunition such as pyro rounds...

The orcs have learned from the death of their human ancillaries of the earlier disasters, and this time there will be no arrogance, only overwhelming force and firepower.

------

There was no mercy, none to be expected nor given from all sides. Only the slaughter brought upon by the might of industrialization against the incellic rage of worlds, with many of various degree of innocence in between. Steel against mana, science against magic (although the lines do blurred quite a bit, especially where the elves were concerned). Blood flowed freely, along with some other unmentionable and probably no longer important fluids. Chemical weapons tend to not do puncture wounds, but what they do tend to be much worse.

But the incel groups weren't the only enemies the various "intervention" forces had to deal with. Also roaming around were the various human armies, originally sent to suppress the rebellions. Many instead swore allegiance to the isekai incels, seduced by the prospect of regaining lost glory, or simply mind controlled as they lost their souls to the great unknown. Regardless of the reasons it doesn't matter to the orcs, dragons, and elves, the latter only holding off the chemical weapons on them due to supply constraints. Had to save the potent stuff against the truly dangerous threats after all. A few of the human armies picked a third side, specifically a side of their own. Seeing the writing on the wall (what's left of it anyways), many choice to carve their own path in the collapse of imperial power. Still didn't help them when some ended up in the way of real modern armies.

Armed with everything from knock-off modern firearms to weapons more suited for the museums, and with skills ranging from near professional to what most isekais would call 'noobs', their overall contributions was that of more chaos, making an already muddled situation more unclear, not to mention causing more collateral damage to the landscape, whether from their foraging activities or standing in spots that seemed all too mundane, but was marked on certain maps, maps of artillery girds that is.

Few could withstand the king of the battlefield, none when chlorine and phosgene were throw in the mix.

The battles did not just involve the petty lives of mortals, even the land and nature itself became involved, in the negative sense of course. The elven army in particular targeted forests and woodlands with a witch's brew of herbicides, deciding that the best way to deal with potential ambushes was to deny the enemies potential places to hide in. The dragons on the other hand prefer capeting villages suspected of harboring incels with pyro artillery rounds, urban warfare not being their forte. Total civilian death were never counted, but no one was in the mood to care, no one important anyway, they're all just mobs right? Even otherwise they are the others, and therefore okay to kill in the name of preemptive self defense.

Logic and reasoning has long since abandoned the situation.

------

In the elven army's wake was silence, not just the silence that comes from a cession of the noises of civilization, but that of an unnatural silence, one that being devoid of all living creatures. It was the power of death straight out of the legends, but now in the era of science and progress such power lies not just in the hands of the gods themselves, but governments and militaries, all run by mere mortals.

And mortals have proven themselves to be just as incompetent and sadistic as the gods before them, truly made in their image indeed. Somewhere in the beyond, the gods must be laughing at the irony of it all, and the suffering of the mortals but the latter already assumed given the entirety of recorded and unrecorded history of the world.

Welcome to war, industrial war.

 

[John_Oakman]

Chapter 14: The empire is dead, short live the republic!​

Once again, Ambassador Stemkumf woke up to the sounds of gunfire. That by itself wasn't too abnormal since the beginning of the crisis, at the very least it sure beats the sounds of hundreds being mass raped by the incels. Like most of the ambassadors, he was caught rather unaware when the rebellion started and for the moment they were all stuck in the imperial palace as unwilling and unwanted guests of the imperial court.

Even at the best of times the imperial court would be described as a cross between a gilded cage and a den of snakes, for behind the massive opulence (although still somewhat lacking in modern amenities such as integrated central heating. The less said about the personalities inhabiting the place, the better. One of the isekais he had the pleasure to aquitenced to remarked once in casual conversation that the imperial court of the humans reminded her of an otome game. Although he still has little idea what is an otome game the idea got across, fuck court politics.

On this day however, the sounds of gunfire was much louder, closer, mixed in with various voices, also much closer. So close in fact he could almost make out individual words.

Well, this is bad news.

He quickly got out of bed, threw on a jacket over his dancing pigs print pajamas. It was the spare pair that his wife gifted him for his birthday years ago, his normal pair of cogwheel print ones being left at the embassy over at the Legation Section, which is probably burned to ashes along with the rest of the place. No one has heard about them since all the telegraph lines were cut. Then again, he really has no clue, but what little he saw and heard outside the windows in the last few weeks didn't exactly help matters. It's weird to think of such trivial matters when more important matters of life and death are staring in the face. Perhaps something he inherited from someone in his family tree. Who knows and who cares?

But it's a whole other issue now that the chaos is right outside of his door. Literally. Barely was he in the hallways when a pair of human soldiers, their uniformed marked them out as the army of Wyvernwald. One of them pointed his rifle at him, a 250M-model-E bolt action rifle, Stemkumf noted trivially, while certain death staring him in the face. 'I really should stop doing that' he then immediately thought to himself

He straightened his posture. He might not have lived all that well (the gods, and his wife, knows of his many vices), but damn it he will die well if nothing else.

The soldier lowered his rifle, then gestured his fellow soldiers, who moved onward past Stemkumf, off to wherever they're originally heading presumably. He then lowered his rifle. Stemkumf decided it's probably safe enough to talk.

"What's going on?" he asked, the words slurred quite a bit. Then again he hasn't had his coffee, in fact he hasn't had any since the crisis started and the withdrawal symptoms are starting to get to him.

"The Empire has fallen! Long live the Republic!" The soldier shouted. "Come, the world must see this." He begin to move to follow the other soldiers, who have already disappeared around a corner somewhere.

"Ah, so a coup d'etat." He finally understood. The ship of state is sinking and all everyone cared for was fighting over the furniture. He followed the soldier, not like he has anything better to do.

……

It turns out he wasn't the only ambassador to be rounded up to witness this historical event, as as walked into the grand hall. He immediately spotted Neressia, who appeared to be clad only in a babydoll that doesn't seem to cover anything important, and Daricon, who appears to be in his finest.

Wait, how the heck did that guy dressed up so quickly? Or was he already up and about? There's no way he's somehow involved in all of this is there?

Stemkumf didn't have much time to ponder on those matters as at that point the imperial family was brought, no, dragged into the hall by a number of soldiers. Even before they were settled down, their faces still a sea of terror mixed with anger. A soldier marched up to them and begin to read from a scroll, no doubt prepared some time in advance.

Stemkumf listened as the soldier droned on, the expect load of horse shit about the will of the people (as if anyone give a damn about that) and the glorious new era. It was half way through when he realized that it was the reform faction that has launched the coup.

Well, that was unexpected. He never thought those guys had the clot to actually do it. Then again, given what one could easily seen out of the window, it was pretty obvious that the old traditional ways aren't working too well.

As the speech ended, which in Stemkumf noted didn't really had much of an effect on the now former emperor. Then again the three year old child probably has no idea what the heck is going on, why he was dragged out of his room, why is there so many people looked so scared. Then the soldier announced that the now former imperial family will be expelled from the premise of the palace immediately.

"Now wait just a damn minute!" Neressia suddenly spoke. "You open those bloody gates and we're all going be dead meat in a matter of hours." Probably feeling all the more vulnerable given what she's wearing at the moment. While intellectually Stemkumf was well versed in the often bizarre and nonsensical fashion of the elves and humans (after all, it is part of the knowledge base he needs as a diplomat) he still facepalm at the stupidity of it all.

"Well then we shall simply throw them off the walls." One of the soldiers simply said, his voice as cold as the unheated walls of the palace. One of the princesses began to weep uncontrollably hearing that.

"While I'm sure that it feels good to take vengeance, perhaps you ought to take this a bit more slowly?" Daricon finally spoke. I would suggest the imperial family be detained here until the mess out there has been sorted out."

"And if we don't feel like it?" The soldier asked acidly.

"Then I invoke the powers bestowed upon me by the Republic of Mundock to grant them asylum, and I'm sure that both my counterparts of the Union and the Imperial State would join me in this."

Neressia nodded in support, and after a moment, as did Stemkumf. For all their disagreements they do all agree on one thing, and that is not throwing more bodies into the chaos, as much as a feel good act that would be. It's best to keep as many of the pieces around for the game, especially a game that's rather unfamiliar.

With a start, Stemkumf realized that he was witnessing history, the first time a nation in this world has fallen due to internal forces. Well, mostly internal, it's not like foreign troops are at the gate. Actually foreign troops would be really nice about now, if for nothing else it would mean the incel mobs would have been dealt with.

------

And so it came to that the Empire of all Mankind, which had stood uninterrupted for over three thousand years, has fallen. Not from the armies of a demon lord, or the dark arts of a evil wizard, but from within. The rot has finally became too much.
​