Reincarnating Into A Fantasy World As An Autonomous Machine Arsenal - Chapter 68 Log 068

Somnus pressed his left hand to the side of his head, and his eyes became thin slits, as he fought off an impending headache. Too much knowledge, all at once, penetrated his skull and embedded itself into his meat brain. He turned to the army that still remained on the field.

They were all stunned. The Deathbringers and the Ashborn spoke amongst each other with hushed words. The troops had just witnessed something that everyone thought was impossible. Since time immemorial, the killing of kings was not only frowned upon but also forbidden by law.

This law was part of the Sovereign Treaty and the Law of Noblesse oblige. The former was an agreement between the Sovereigns and the Emperor. The treaty gave the Sovereigns the right to possess and administer land within the Empire. The latter, however, was a Pantheon-given law. Kings may not become casualties of plot or war.

In ancient times, to become a king meant to unlock the leadership skill that allowed an individual to organize the people and rule over them. Only powerful adventurerslevel 100 and abovecould achieve such a thing. The alternative was to become a famous Legendalso requiring level 100 and aboveor the de facto leader of a large organization. Since those times, the difficult quest towards becoming a Ruler has been completely negated by introducing hereditary governments.

Was this really the way the Gods had intended for man to be? The values and principles that shaped the foundations of all Kingdoms had eroded as periods of relative peace settled over the land. On one hand, the danger of releasing the Heralds and the Destroyer was avoided by having a king, but the power of the adventurers had also faded as the changing times forced them to cease their endless battle for rulership.

In the center of this eventthe fulcrum of yet another changing erastood Somnus. An entity that defied the rules and obliterated even the consequences of treading off the beaten path. Heralds meant nothing to him which meant that kings also meant nothing to him.

Somnus saw this look in the eyes of all the men that came here to fight for him and he knew exactly what they were thinking. Killing the king had not been a spur-of-the-moment decision for Somnus. It was calculated and designed from the beginning in order to raise the morale of the troops. The Herald was unexpected, but that too served a similar purpose. He wanted to tell his men: This is the new world; you are the masters of your own fate.

And in their eyes he saw that they understood the truth behind this lesson that he wanted to teach them. There was no fear in their eyes and no hesitation. There was only excitement.

A thunderous roar exploded from the Deathbringers and the Ashborn in the form of a victorious cheer that echoed through the fields. Victory. Not over just Sylestra, but over the world itself.

Still, Somnus was just a machine. He may be made of meat and bones now, but his mind still operated in the familiar ways. He had priorities.

“Objective not complete,” Somnus said as a magical circle flashed in front of him. The spell amplified his voice. “Gather usable equipment, salvage and then march to the capital. Occupy the seat of the government before winter.”

Many of the elated expressions crumbled. Before winter? That meant they would have to march all day and night to make it in time. They just won a great battle! Surely that deserved celebration and rest!

Somnus did not care about their opinion on the matter at all. As far as it concerned him, the Ashborn Knights sat here for almost two months and did absolutely nothing but stare down the enemy across the plain. The Deathbringers had to march from Insomnia to this place, after a seven-day training period. Though, their journey was made easy with the introduction of wagons and beasts of burden, it was still a tax on their combat readiness. Either way, Somnus did not expect that they would meet resistance or have to fight once more.

Somnus slowly made his way towards Duke Peron who watched the battle from a distance and was now calming down his troops. He was a stoic man whom the loss of an arm did not make dull or cowardly; It made him even more ferocious. This kind of person Somnus could appreciate. When it came to warriors, there was only two kinds of people to Somnus: Those who respected war, and those who thought they could control war. Duke Peron was the former. He saw both the necessity of war and the tragedy, and at times like this, when everyone was celebrating a victory, he only felt pity. Mono no aware, the fleeting principle of life’s existence. He knew how fragile such a sacred thing was.

As Somnus approached Peron after several minutes of walking, the Duke bowed to Somnus. “Congratulations, your Excellency. The day is ours.”

The lack of pride in his tone confirmed everything Somnus thought about the man. “Designation Peron will become administrator of Sylestra,” Somnus said.

“Your Majesty, what about my Duchy?” Peron asked.

“Find a suitable replacement,” Somnus replied.

Duke Peron nodded, “If it is acceptable, I shall give it to my son.”

“Request accepted,” Somnus said.

Duke Peron did not seem entirely pleased with this solution, but he thanked Somnus anyway, “Thank you, my Liege.”

Somnus straightened up. He enjoyed having conversations like this. Unlike some in Somnus’s entourage, Duke Peron did not back-talk or argue the merits of every decision. The conversation was two-sided and flowed naturally and, most importantly, quickly.

“Designation Peron will lead his Division to the capital of Sylestra and occupy it. He is temporarily granted command over the Deathbringers,” Somnus explained.

“Your Majesty, are you not coming with us?” Duke Peron asked.

“Affirmative, this unit has a different mission,” Somnus said.

Duke Peron tilted his head. Another mission? “Your Majesty, if you are heading into a dangerous area, I could provide some very skilled bodyguards.”

The troops around Duke Peron stared at the man as if he had lost his marbles. Somnus just killed a Herald! He didn’t need bodyguards. They did not understand that Peron was trying to gain information from Somnus.

Ironically, had Peron asked directly he may have gotten an answer.

“Unnecessary,” Somnus said. “We will regroup at the capital.”

Duke Peron saluted Somnus as he sensed the impending end of the conversation and said, “Stay safe, my Liege.”

Somnus then turned around and headed towards the other end of the pass. Lod and Det waited for him near the Deathbringers, and Somnus signaled for them to follow him. They quickly made it to his side.

“Master, we kills Herald. Lod proud.”

“Lod not even do anything. Lod just watch.”

Lod glanced at Det and triumphantly emitted a “Hmph”.

“What?” Det asked.

“Lod get trophy,” Lod said, retrieving a bloody ear from a pouch on his belt. “King ear.”

Det blinked when he heard those words and then his expression became one of pure shock. “Det forget to claim trophy!”

“Stupid Det. Det stupider than Orc. Now Det can not brag. No trophy. No glory.”

“Master, still time for Det to get trophy?” Det asked, looking to Somnus.

“Negative.”

“Where we go now, master?” Lod asked.

“Safe place. Need to study arsenal,” Somnus said.

“Arsenal? Is arsenal tasty?” Lod asked.

“Lod fool. Can’t eat arsenal,” Det growled.

“Det not even know what arsenal is,” Lod said.

“Master, what is arsenal?” Det asked.

His question went unanswered as they headed into the country of Sylestra.

“Put on your masks. Disguise required,” Somnus said, sweeping a hand in front of his face. The mirror-like surface of the silver mask appeared and covered his features.

“We are adventurers for now,” Somnus said, as the two goblins retrieved their masks and put them on.