It is needless to state that the armies of the Empire and the armies of Tartarus are not just different. They come from different lands, different epochs, they have different doctrine, they are as different as black is to white, as the sky to the ground. The only real commonality they share is the presence of a leadership and the fact they are forces primarily used for warfare, unlike the inefficient workhorse forces that were sometimes experimented with in the past.

  The lack of warfare in Arda has served as both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in one aspect, for the Imperial Army is a fresh construct unbeholden to any notions of local traditions. We have been given a clean slate to design it as we see fit. A curse in another, for precisely the same reason. During the Great War, the Empire could rely on pre-existing forces to supplement the ranks in the initial stages. We had accesses to martial arts, to educators, to texts detailing combat styles along with souls who knew how to interpret them. The natural difference in size, endurance and strength between demon and man could be closed by individual skill and collective discipline.

  It is no longer a feasible solution to try and train men in the art of melee. The matter is simply one of time, we would need years to merely reach a state where melee could be considered as a feasible scenario. Years more before could start wielding it to our advantage. The Empire has forsaken the sword for the rifle already. Whilst I understand the notion of not cutting one’s flowers and watering one’s weeds, we have hit the peak in terms of what can be done in ranged engagements at our current technological level.

  Whereas our style of engagement was correct in the Epan War and the Invasion of Kirinyaa, reports by General Zalewski show that Tartarus is more than willing to test whether they will run out of bodies, or whether we will run out of lead first. They are not like Ardan armies, they will simply send and send and send until we are overwhelmed. Kirinyaa’s ammunition stockpiles are already shrinking even with its own local expansion. The only reason that they are not shrinking in Epa is because we have a sea physically separating us from Tartarus’ forces. Once they finish building their landbridge, we will be in the same position as General Ekkerson. When the Second Expedition was overwhelmed, they had no way to regain the initiative until they reached the protection of various Holds. When demons do finally close the distance, our soldiers are cut down in melee just as quickly as we cut them down at range.

  We lack the power to stalemate and hold. Once a battle is lost and a position has to be retaken, we can only rely on overwhelming firepower. Already, as I analyse the landscape of Rilia, I see obvious locations where the terrain makes it impossible for our heavy armour to cross. The underground, whilst easy to traverse, provided clear avenues of fire. When demons could potentially flank or surround or cross heavy terrain to surprise, we must be ready for melee.

  The Imperial Military cannot be adapted for melee in time. We lack the skill and we lack the equipment. Any suggestion to turn an ammunition plant into an armourer should be rejected immediately. We simply lack that capability. Fer’s beastmen can be used an auxiliary force, but they are not numerous enough to truly make a difference. Kavaa’s Clerics lack the experience, although they may serve as a stopgap measure. An army has to be found.

  There are two armies on Arda that would serve. Neither Imperial nor Pantheon at this point.

  I have a radical proposition to fix this issue.

  - Introduction to Iliyal Tremali’s Letter to God Arascus, of Pride. It details army expansion.

  Kavaa stood by Kassandora on the open palm of Immayoi as Levhen’s army spilled out ahead and behind them. Countless automata fashioned out of moving bronze and powered by winding tomes of runes on their inside of their armour, or stone golem and construct that waded, crystal and metal submerged and bricked over within their bodies. Most did not even eyes, Kassandora had explained they saw through the runework itself. Those that did bore them only for decorational purpose. Immayoi took another step and the dwarven highway thundered once again. It was lit up now, veins in geometric patterns spiralled across the walls and ceiling. Tight corners would wind down into square spirals, that would then bridge over themselves to continue racing onwards. Patterns of dots and circles in the ceiling were like a starry night, save that instead of blue sky dotted by gleaming white celestial body, it was grey stone adorned with blazing orange stone that seemed to watch the flood of bronze slowly spill movement back through these ancient routes.

  The advance was blazing fast. At every junction, a section of the remaining dwarves would be left behind and told to go north, to close the encirclement that Levhen’s army was making. They would return back to the Core Holds, link up, and then the retaking of the underkingdoms would go ahead in full swing. The holds were awake by now, their suns blazed, Levhen’s hoard had already secured two it had passed by. Kassandora nor Kavaa had bothered to enter.

  The automata were simply told to clear them out from Tartarus and a section of the metallic torrent would peel away in a river of thundering metal steps. Most of them were forged in the figure of a man, with a pair of legs and a pair of arms, some of those lacked a head entirely, their guiding sensors simply fashioned into the stomach. They had great beasts too, Kavaa had seen horses which roared through a battle line like a cannonball, only to lay down and have spears extend from every inch of its torso like some great hedgehog. Small spiders crawled along the walls in square formation. It was almost odd to see those little constructs that jumped to snap through bone and arm and steel be so organised. Between them, machines fashioned in the image of centipedes cast shadows whenever their bulk obscured the glowing patterns they sauntered across. Those were as large as twenty men in line, they would screech and fall from the ceiling onto the largest demons, wrapping around them to crush with sheer weight.

  These armies had not changed whatsoever, even down to the madness of their builders. Two junctions ago, they had sent something that looked like a snake fashioned out of shields down to slither down a section of the highway that went south. Some of the things were entirely self-balancing spheres that would open up to reveal an armouries worth of blades within them. There were creatures that had a pike on each arm, that would be stabbed into the stone for leverage. There was everything and anything.

  It was the exact same silent procession, without a breath cast or a word said, that soldiers in the White Pantheon called the mountain’s funeral march. The same one that Kavaa remembered watching advance from a distance, its pace ever steady and unchanging. The only time the machines would accelerate was during combat. Immayoi took another step as they were coming to yet another junction. “This is the last one.” Kassandora said.

  “Mmh.” Kavaa replied and sighed with relief. “I want to see the sun again.”

  “Same.” Kassandora answered. “It’s been too long.” Kavaa giggled at the thought and leaned over, putting her arm around the Goddess of War. And finally, Kassandora did not stiffen, nor tense, nor did her breath catch. With one hand, she unfurled her crimson hair from underneath Kavaa’s arm and she leaned in, bumping her head against Kavaa’s. “What’s so funny?”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “I honestly thought you would stay.”

  “Why?”

  “To lead this front.”

  “Oh.” Kassandora said, taking a deep breath. “I suppose I could. It will lead itself though. I’ll most likely be making trips to Klavdiv and back.” Kavaa sighed, that was only realistic.

  “I still want to take you on the holiday.” At this point, she just didn’t care what she was going to say. After that battle in Levhen, she was thankful she was alive to speak at all. It was almost surreal. Two thousand years had gone by, even more than that, and finally she felt what it was like to almost die. With Leona in the Great War, danger had not been that close. Even when battles grew dangerous, when Leona said they were going to win, they were going to win.

  Kassandora chuckled. “Here I was hoping you’d forget.”

  “I’ll drag you along kicking and screaming if you don’t agree.” Kavaa said. “And I don’t even care.”

  “I don’t think you will.” Kassandora cooed. “Something just tells me that you couldn’t lift my blade.”

  Kavaa was more than ready for this. She had already worked out a plan and she was sure that it would work. “I’ll tell Fer and she’ll drag you kicking and screaming then.”

  Kassandora laughed. “I don’t think you’ll need to drag me kicking and screaming anywhere.” It was almost surreal to listen to that low, downright thrilled tone spill out of Kassandora’s mouth. Kavaa loved it.

  “I’m sure you’ll follow along, head slumped over.” Now that Kavaa was imagining it, she actually couldn’t picture it. What would Kassandora even look like when she didn’t have work to keep her company? Would she actually just mope about? She would be miserable, wouldn’t she? At first, Kavaa had thought of the mountains or somewhere nice and cold and quiet. That wouldn’t do at all though. Kassandora needed excitement to keep her thoughts at bay. What did she find exciting even? Fuck it. “What do you find exciting?”

  Kassandora breathed out in a snort of humour. “You make me out like some ghoul.”

  “I asked a question.”

  This time, Kassandora did not answer for a while. She just chuckled to herself after a while. “I’m the worst, aren’t I?”

  “I agree.” Kavaa replied dryly. “So?”

  “Work.”

  Kavaa sighed in exhaustion. Kassie could take it. “Of course.” Kavaa replied sarcastically. “And here I was hoping for something.”

  “What did you want me to say?” Kassandora replied quietly. The army around them advanced as they approached the junction in the distance. Maybe it would be trapped, sometimes demons laid ambushes on. Ambushes didn’t do much against automata and golem that reacted immediately, communicated almost at the speed of War’s Orchestra, and could not panic.

  “A sport? A location? A food?” Kavaa said. Kassie thought for a whole. She bumped her head into Kavaa’s to get her brain moving.

  “Fencing and war games.”

  “Fucking hell.” Kavaa replied.

  “What?” Kassie said.

  “So predictable.”

  “Oh I’m sorry, what do you do in your free time? Practice surgery? Sew? Drink gin? Talk about a fulfilling a stereotype!”

  “I read.” Kavaa said flatly. “And I watch television. And I would get a dog if we weren’t at war and I had time to spend with it.” This time Kassie didn’t reply whatsoever. She just held the silence. Kavaa just sighed. “Alright, I’ll think of something to do.”

  “You do that.” Kassandora said sourly.

  “Are you mad at me?” Kavaa asked, her tone incredulous.

  “No.”

  What a lie. What an absolute lie. That was such a terrible lie, in such a false tone that Kavaa may as well have caught Kassandora with her hand in the cookie jar. “Of course.” Kavaa said, her tone light and joking. “Not everyone can be as fun as me.”

  “Shut up idiot.” Kassandora said lightly. “We both know you’re a miserable old hag.”

  “I’d say it’s the pot calling the kettle black but it’s more like the landfill calling the wastebin messy.” Kavaa replied flatly. For a moment, Kassandora didn’t respond. For a moment, Kavaa’s eyes went wide as she realised what she said. Blood flushed into her cheeks. Her posture tensed. Kassandora suddenly burst out in laughter.

  “Oh here we go!” She practically yelled, her voice echoing down the highway before the drumming of stone and metal marching in formation finally swallowed the sound. “Landfill? How generous of you miss wastebin. Truly, what a way with words!”

  “Oh apologies.” Kavaa replied dryly. “You get what you see on the tin. How many people talk well about my character?”

  “How many about mine?”

  “Millions.” Kavaa said dryly. “Don’t pretend you’re not an idol.” Kassandora squeezed Kavaa by the shoulder. Their heads bumped again as grey hair collided with crimson.

  This time, the reply is heavenly soft and almost apologetic in tone. “Does that even matter?” She asked. Kavaa just stood there for a moment. She shouldn’t have said it like that. It was cruel. It was simply cruel. Everyone knew Kassandora was a star in the world, Kassandora most of all.

  Kavaa’s tone was obviously apologetic. “It doesn’t to me.”

  Kassandora squeezed in response. Immayoi took another step. They were approaching the junction right now. Kavaa did something she didn’t think was possible, but it was pointless to sit in her own sorrow. She had almost died in Levhen and realised that most of her memories with Kassandora were like this. She wanted better ones. She changed the topic. “Why is that one different?” She pointed to a machine below them with six legs.

  “That’s Kikru.”

  “They have names?” Kavaa asked in shock. Of course they had names. And of course Kassandora would know them. Of course. Of fucking course. What didn’t she know?

  “No.” Kassandora replied. “Kikru was a smith before the war started. He was basing his designs off insects. More or less anything with six legs is his work.”

  “Oh.” And now Kavaa felt stupid. “Then what are those?” She pointed to the general mass of carbon-copy automata that made up the main bulk of the army.

  “SMEHMs.” Kassandora said and held for a moment. “Or Factory models, or manbots. Or K-models.”

  Kavaa just sighed. There was no point adding inflection to the tone. Nor pretend she was anyone that she wasn’t. “Am I supposed to know what the fuck that means?”

  “SMEHM is Standard Manufacture Empire Humanoid Model.” Kassandora dryly.

  “I wonder who named that.” Kavaa already knew. It always amused her that Kassandora hated the naming scheme that Imperial technology followed. It was funny that Arascus had once vetoed Kassandora on naming projects too. Or doing anything to do with aesthetics frankly. And Kavaa liked it. It was just such a stupid little thing, but it was so sweet.

  Kassandora, of course, ruined the moment. “I did.” She admitted flatly. “And then I got banned from naming anything ever again. Factory model is because they’re just the default design. Manbot because they’re in the shape of humans. They have arms so that’s it’s easier to equip them depending on what’s needed. That’s why their the default. Production started a year into the Great War after we realised that the unique designs were just terrible in mass. Humanoid bodies also make it easier for my generals to work out how to use them. Standard battle tactics can be adapted, they don’t have to be re-written.”

  “What about the last one?” Kavaa asked.

  “What last one?”

  “The name.” Kavaa said. Kassandora did not reply. “K-models.” Kavaa said and thought for a moment. Her mouth twisted into a smile. Say it wasn’t true. Surely not. Surely no one was that arrogant. “Don’t tell me they’re what I think they are.”

  “I can’t read minds Kavaa.”

  “Kassandora models.” Kavaa said and Kassandora immediately pulled away and sighed.

  “I fucking hate that name.” Kassandora said, her arms falling loose by her side. “But yes, some people call them K-models, sometimes just K’s.”

  “And you tried to pretend you weren’t an idol.”

  “I designed them.” Kassandora said. “Well not designed, but I set the blueprint for a human-bot.”

  “That honestly doesn’t surprise me.” Kavaa said. They reached the junction finally. It was clear to the left. It was clear to the right. It was clear forward. Kassandora did as she always did. She pointed, machines turned up to her, an ancient language that Kavaa had never heard was spoken, and the part of the army turned. Another river spilling out of the main torrent and heading north. This was it, the final encirclement to close the entire force Tartarus had sent underground. The total count would easily number more than a few million. It was the grandest encirclement in all history.

  And it was so devastatingly simple that Kavaa didn’t even know what to say. She would have never thought of the plan and if she did, she would have never risked it. Fortia would have never risked it either, not unless Ciria was there to tell them it would work out. But Kassandora did. And Kassandora was brave enough to try. She sent her hand forward and said more words Kavaa didn’t understand. Immayoi took a step forward, still carrying the two Goddesses.

  Wait.

  This wasn’t the way. “Where are we going?” Kavaa asked.

  The answer made her wish she had just shut up. “It’s time to get my last sister.”