I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills-Chapter 118 : Chapter 118

Chapter 118. To the East (3)
A new force has joined the expedition.
An Iron Man Dwarf.
Well, to be honest, it doesn't mean a huge change in our overall strength right away.
It's not like the dwarven artillery corps or even the mine warriors have joined; at best, it's just one more hero added to the roster.
“I swear on the heart of our dwarves, the Steamforge.”
However, the dwarf Balkan promised.
He said that if this expedition ends and we successfully retake the surface of the Everlasting Mountains Hold from the orcs, he would hand over the technology of the steel exoskeleton he is wearing.
That means that not only the steam engine but also the advanced technologies concentrated in this suit, such as alloy casting, plate manufacturing, and precision machining of the drive parts, will all be handed over to me.
It's an insane condition.
“Wow… this is really something.”
For a detailed explanation, let’s borrow the words of William, who is tapping on the plate covering the steel exoskeleton.
“Steel? No. The main materials are an alloy of black iron and silver steel. It seems a small amount of mithril is also mixed in on the engine side. It looks like the heat treatment was done differently for each part…. Hah, really. How on earth did they make something like this?”
Yes, this is it.
Even to me, a non-expert, it’s a professional analysis.
It’s a sight befitting the best craftsman who will make my artillery corps, which started as the third power of the Empire, into the fourth.
It was only natural that the country bumpkin dwarf royalty, who had been living secluded in the mountains without knowing the ways of the world, was shocked after initially holding his head high with a ‘how dare a mere human analyze my suit?’ attitude.
“You, how did you know that at a glance…?”
As a result of the wide-eyed country bumpkin dwarf exchanging a few words with the pride of my territory, the gunpowder artisan.
I inadvertently learned a fact I didn't know myself.
“Duke Bukrum is your uncle?”
“Not by blood, but he was the one who took me in when I was an orphan.”
“Yes, of course, that would be the case. Anyway, he was your master, right?”
“Yes, do you happen to know my uncle?”
“Do I know Duke Meister? Of course, I do! Good heavens, is there any dwarf who doesn't know him?”
William’s uncle, who was said to be a nameless blacksmith in the City-State Alliance.
It turns out he was quite a big shot among the dwarves.
* * *
“He was a great craftsman. The youngest Meister in the two-thousand-year history of the Everlasting Mountains Hold.”
Balkan, half-closing his eyes in reminiscence, muttered.
“Casting, forging, runes, and mechanical devices, of course… and he also introduced many technologies we hadn't even imagined, like the breath of an underground dragon.”
Duke Bukrum.
Or Duke Meister.
Just the fact that the title Meister was attached to him makes it easy to guess his skill.
There is an old saying in dwarven society.
Every dwarf is a miner and a blacksmith.
And every miner and blacksmith respects a Meister.
Such is the weight of the name Meister.
Because it is a title bestowed only upon very outstanding craftsmen among the dwarves who have hammered iron for over a hundred years.
“This steel exoskeleton is also just a replica made by imitating his work.”
Of course, even among Meisters, there are differences in skill.
Duke Meister was a genius.
A genius that might appear once in a thousand years.
He obtained the title, which requires hammering iron for over a hundred years, in just twenty-odd years.
As a craftsman who showed promise from a young age, he had more than one or two nicknames.
“The Guardian of Mechanical Devices, the Master of Flying Steel, the Maker of Iron Lighter than Air, the Inheritor of Ancient Runes, the Unfortunate Meister….”
It goes on and on.
A round of applause for the memory of our royalty who remembers all that.
In fact, the period when William’s uncle was active was around the time he was just entering adulthood.
To use a dwarven expression, ‘when his beard was just starting to grow.’
The young Meister, who made all sorts of curious things, was like an idol to the young craftsmen of the time, including Balkan.
However, the end was not good.
As is often the case with entrepreneurs or artists who succeed too early.
“He got caught up in a factional dispute. No, it would be more accurate to say he was checked. He was stripped of the name Meister and put on probation. The reason was that he had leaked the secrets of the Everlasting Mountains Hold to another Hold.”
It is the same throughout all ages and places that clearing one's name is more difficult than being framed.
A simple technological exchange with a neighboring Hold became a capital crime of leaking secrets with a little bit of evidence fabrication and instigation.
The acclaimed youngest Meister was demoted to a low-level facility management position.
Was it a stress-related illness?
To make matters worse, he was struck by illness.
A ten-year trial sentenced him to exile.
Bound by a rune oath that he would receive a curse of a short life if he leaked dwarven secrets again.
‘…Come to think of it, there was a hero called the ‘Nameless Exile’ in the dwarf race lore.’
There is a setting that most of the dwarves' ultimate weapons were created by the ‘Nameless Exile.’
A figure whose identity was not revealed until World Scenario 3.0.
Perhaps he is a hero who was fleshed out in 4.0 along with William.
If so, it becomes more certain.
The fact that the ‘legacy’ left by William’s uncle is one of the dwarves’ ultimate weapons.
By the way….
“I didn't know there was such a past. The Hold will not welcome me, the disciple of an exile….”
“What are you talking about? It’s been ages since it was revealed that he was framed! The Everlasting Mountains Hold will welcome you. If worst comes to worst, you can even become a craftsman of the Hold!”
“Haha, thank you. But I still like Wolfskrig. No matter what, stone-bread is hard to eat. The bakery here bakes bread that is truly delicious.”
I almost lost my hero.
He might have been joking, but the bakery played a big role.
Indeed, stone-bread is not something people should eat.
‘Stone-bread! Ugh, ptui ptui ptui!’
That's not my personal opinion, but the word of the gourmet Kkumteuli.
* * *
There is something I realized when I was retaking the college entrance exam as a kid.
The time you spend preparing for something feels so slow at that moment, but when you look back, it feels so fast.
The preparation for the eastern expedition was the same.
Discussing the operation with the commanders, taking care of the soldiers’ condition, going around the forges and merchant guilds to prepare supplies, and while using reconnaissance resources to the fullest to prevent any unforeseen events and contracting with magic towers and mercenaries….
“It’s already come to this.”
“That it has.”
Before I knew it, the departure was just around the corner.
On top of the eastern gate of the city of Wolfskrig.
I looked down at the street, feeling the wind, moist with the humidity of the rainy season, blowing into the city along the wall.
The sun is just rising from beyond the horizon.
The expeditionary force was scheduled to gather in front of the gate at sunrise.
As expected, before long, the sound of footsteps was heard from inside the street.
They are the Viscount’s soldiers.
The soldiers, in neat ranks and files, are marching down the street in square formations by unit and approaching the gate.
Just like when we went out to repel the undead army before, the citizens waiting on both sides of the street cheered, threw flowers, and set off firecrackers.
Pop! Bang-!
“?”
I definitely told them to ban those firecrackers.
“Uh, the firecrackers, you say? I got it. Hey, you! The one with the short tongue and sword. Go and confiscate the firecrackers. It’s the Viscount’s order!”
I sent one of old man Brol’s guards.
Before long, the sound of firecrackers subsided.
A relief.
No matter how festive it is, setting off firecrackers when sensitive gunpowder weapons are rolling by is insane.
After the momentary crisis passed, I stood on the wall above the gate and watched the soldiers gather.
Interestingly, even though it wasn't planned, the order of arrival was somewhat fixed.
The Viscount’s army, in formation, was the first.
The knight order and the Church Army were the second.
The mercenaries were next.
The contract mages were the last.
Hmm, they're a little late.
‘Tsk tsk, a bunch who love all-nighters and sleeping in. Master, shouldn’t you fix their bad habits?’
‘Tick-tock!!’
By the way, the residents of the subspace have been complaining a lot lately.
A bit sensitive, should I say.
It seems they've become sensitive because the snacks they received as information fees have all run out.
Well, if they want snacks, they have to provide quality information.
There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world.
‘Guarantee our divine rights too!’
‘Tick-tock!’
Let’s ignore the commotion of the sugar addicts.
The departure ceremony was kept simple.
The trumpeters blew their trumpets to announce the departure of the expeditionary force.
Starting with the flag bearers, the expeditionary force formed a long procession, following each other unit by unit.
I am at the front of the procession, in the head of the snake, so to speak.
“It’s amazing.”
Karen said.
The 2nd Battalion Commander and leader of the scouts, she was holding a crystal sphere next to me.
It was a short-range communication crystal sphere recently made by the magic tower.
Its range does not exceed a few kilometers, but it is a version with added features such as anti-eavesdropping, delay minimization, and sound quality improvement.
When I said I was going on the eastern expedition, Archduke Gabir sent it to me, saying a prototype had come out. With this, I could receive real-time s from the rangers who were scouting ahead.
Karen collects those s and delivers them to me, to be used for organic response.
Of course, it's not of much use yet.
Thanks to [Battlefield-Overlooking Gaze], the vision of all the rangers is displayed on the minimap in my head.
Still, having one more backup is always a good thing.
So I asked.
“Amazing? The communication sphere?”
“Ahaha, no.”
Karen let out a smirk.
“All of this, right now. The Viscount’s army, the magic tower and the knight order, the eastern expeditionary force….”
Is that so.
It certainly feels real now.
For a while, the only battles had been defensive ones to protect the territory.
As I prepared for the expedition in earnest, I could clearly feel how much the territory and the army had developed.
The carpenters, who had carried out numerous constructions under old man Poodle and the construction guild, quickly produced military barracks and supply wagons.
The forge area, where part of the smelting and casting process was automated with the help of a water wheel, produced spare spears, swords, arrows, shields, and armor without extinguishing its flames day or night.
The grain stored in the expanded granaries due to a bountiful harvest became ample military provisions.
The countless merchant guilds and companies that had visited became the backbone of the supply plan, and some are following the rear of the expeditionary force, acting as sutlers.
The expeditionary force of nearly ten thousand would be just one facet of this complex development.
Yes, ten thousand.
Let’s take a look at the composition of the expeditionary force at this point.
The 1st Battalion of the Viscount's army led by Damas, 1,700 men.
The 2nd Battalion of the Viscount's army led by Karen, 1,400 men.
Randal's 3rd Battalion of the Viscount's army, 900 men.
Torburn's 4th Battalion, newly appointed to replace Olif, 700 men.
And the Viscount's Artillery Corps, led by gunpowder artisan William, the fourth power of the Empire and the main force of my territory, 400 men.
The Viscount’s army alone, encompassing the spearman corps, swordsman corps, and rifleman corps, as well as the cavalry corps, ranger scouts, mortars, and organ guns, numbers over 5,100 men.
There are also special forces, small in number but with combat power rivaling the main force.
90 knights belonging to Olif's Nameless Knight Order.
The Church Army, centered around Alina and Tambourine, with priests, paladins, and squires, numbering around 300.
The Black and Blue Magic Towers, which had established branches in the territory, each sent about thirty mages, and including the mages under my direct command, the spellcaster force responsible for firepower along with the artillery corps also far exceeds one hundred and fifty.
Since the purpose of the expedition is to subjugate the rebels and support our ally, the dwarves, about a thousand Imperial soldiers have joined as part of the expeditionary force.
Considering that the expeditionary force has hired about four thousand mercenaries, it is truly a large army exceeding ten thousand.
An army of ten thousand.
The scale alone surpasses the nine thousand-strong punitive force that Archduke Gabir and Viscount Pewin had recruited to subjugate the Vampire Duke years ago.
Considering the thoroughly trained Viscount’s army and special forces, the combat power would easily be double that of the punitive force.
And that's excluding the strength of the Lumer Legion that I can personally mobilize.
After a week of marching, the expeditionary force crossed the border of the territory.
The unique scent of land soaked in necromancy stimulated my nose.
The air felt pungent like spicy food was nearby, yet also had a faint, foul stench of corpses.
After a few more days, we sent out a reconnaissance team as we neared Randel Fortress, our first recapture target.
“About three thousand undead. A large number of Necro Ogers, Skeleton Wyverns, and a few vampires have been confirmed.”
Just as planned.
“William.”
“Yes, Viscount.”
Let's prepare the artillery corps.