Archeologist Warlord: A Dungeon Core Epic

by E. M. Hardy

  “Oh? And how did things go, my naïve little traitor?”

  Yao Xiu was panicking now. If she was branded a traitor, she wouldn’t be the only one to face the axe. Her family, her mother and father, would be hauled into the courts as well. At the very least, they would share her fate and meet a quick end. At the very worst, they would be forced to renounce all their ties, titles, and possessions before being exiled from the Ren Empire—a death sentence in all but name.

  She thought fast, grasping for any possible reason for the good general to not set her head on the block and on a pike.

  “Because of the trust we… I built with Mar-Tin, I have managed to gain information that far outweighs the value of what I gave.” Finding a thread of an idea to cling on to, Yao Xiu pulled at it desperately and continued with wherever it would lead her. “Mar-Tin had already observed the effects of Chi. He had witnessed our ability to heat up elements around us, like how my fellow historians who are better-skilled with Chi started a fire at the camp. He had also mentioned to me in passing that he had seen the hunters who accompanied us cycle their energy within themselves prior to departing our camp. That means Mar-Tin has the ability to perceive Chi in the first place, which means he would have soon decoded our abilities simply by watching us go about our day-to-day life.

  “In contrast, I have learned that Mar-Tin has the ability to see through the eyes of every single one of his constructs. That means he is somehow connected to them all in some way. I might not know how it works right now, but it might not be that far a stretch to coax more information out of him some day.” Yao Xiu barreled on, breathing fast and shallow, not noticing the glimmer of amusement in the general’s deceptively stern eyes. Neither did she remark the surprised and subsequently calculating look that Lead Historian Cui Dai was giving her. “Also, I’ve learned that Mar-Tin was originally a human, from a far-off world. He didn’t come to this world willingly. He was brought here by some entity he called a Custodian, and he was essentially conscripted to fight in this war for our sake. He even said that he’s no warrior, and it shows. He was something like an aspiring historian in his world—a student focused on the histories of long-dead people! He is just stumbling around in this whole affair, taking one step at a time, and he has admitted to knowing very little about war.”

  She stopped talking when General Shen Feng suddenly laughed a deep, throaty laugh that travelled through her body and made her tingle in a way that frightened her to the core. “The little traitor thinks she can buy her way to salvation with a little information! Haha!” He slapped his thigh and continued laughing as Yao Xiu started panicking once more. His laughter subsided as he took off his helmet and shook his sweaty mane of hair before shooting Yao Xiu a grin, which left the shaking young historian even more bewildered.

  “Well, it worked.”

  He walked right in front of Yao Xiu and placed a firm, muscular, and confident hand on her shoulder. It was not a lecherous or threatening act. No, Yao Xiu felt that it was a warm gesture which was the complete opposite of the demeanor that the general was showing just a few minutes earlier.

  “You are an earnest one, little traitor, and you need a little more work…” Yao Xiu bristled at the man’s insistence on using that title on her, but his grin disarmed her somewhat. The contrast between his words and actions was effectively shutting her mind down, and she didn’t know quite how to react, so she decided to just shut up and listen for the meantime. “…but I think you’ll do just fine.”

  When Yao Xiu rediscovered her ability to speak once more, she could only muster a weak croak that had none of the energy she had displayed earlier. “What… what do you mean? Do fine for what?”

  “Why, to introduce me to this Mar-Tin that you’ve so readily welcomed into our lands. I will need someone with your extensive experience to ensure that our guest will feel as much at ease as possible.” His grin turned feral, and it sent more shivers up Yao Xiu’s spine. “At least before I send Her Majesty’s troops to teach this invader a lesson on manners.”

  His threats, however, were cut short when a man burst into the tent, body rigid and eyes wide with barely-contained panic. “General! General of the White Tiger! Sir, your presence is required!”

  “What is it, Captain?” General Shen Feng’s grin disappeared, replaced by a professional mask, as an officer pulled up the flap of his tent. Yao Xiu was relieved that the general’s attention was focused elsewhere, but the concern on the soldier’s face quickly revoked that relief.

  “Sir… it’s some sort of man…thing. A thing made of clay, walking and talking and moving around like a man could. It’s just…” The officer seemed to notice he was rambling, and was quick to master himself. “It says its name is Mar-Tin, and that it’s here to talk to the man in charge of this camp. It is unarmed and is obeying all orders being given to it, though we have men aiming pikes, arrows, and Chi at it.”

  Yao Xiu felt a certain sense of satisfaction when she saw the general’s demeanor turn sour, even if it was just for a little bit. It seemed he was just a mortal, and she quietly savored the knowledge. That feeling was short-lived though, as the general turned his fierce gaze upon her and she discovered a smug grin plastered on his mustached lips.

  “Well what do you know, little traitor. Fortune smiles on you: you’re going to start with your new job much sooner than you expected.”

  Chapter 14

  After around two months of being a disconnected consciousness, Martin was still getting used to the way that these walkers functioned. Unlike the other constructs that had a mind of their own and translated his will into action, these ‘walkers’ were bodies that he himself had to take control over. Instead of seeing the world through hundreds of windows that were detached from it all, Martin perceived the world through ‘his’ eyes, felt the world through ‘his’ skin, and traipsed through the elements with ‘his’ feet. Having a body—correction, having bodies to control—left Martin feeling strangely nostalgic for his old life. Martin Fuller, student archaeologist and poor sap who got suckered into playing soldier.

  Speaking of soldiers, he ignored the nervous stares of the men and women who trained their pikes and bows at him, strange energies swirling through and subsequently strengthening their bodies. He stood rooted to the spot, feeling the wet muck of the swamp squish underneath his walker’s toeless feet. It was weird feeling rocks and roots without feeling pain. It was just a sensation to be ignored as these obstacles didn’t really pose a threat to his appendages, unlike the soft, fleshy pads of a regular human foot.

  Martin considered his choices. He had 47 walkers ready to go, and would be able to produce 36 walkers a day with the three existing production vats in the Leizhu Swamp Pyramid. He would be able to produce far more—thousands—if he could clear out the ruined machinery, begin mining out the rich clay deposits around the pyramid, and set up additional production facilities. He could churn out an extra 120 a day from the five operational vats in the Qleb Sierra Pyramid, though he could be able to make more as he restored more production vats. It would, however, take them at least a week to march all the way to the Leizhu Swamp; a few days if they ran all the way.

  That wouldn’t mean squat in any engagement of any sorts against the Ren, at least not at the moment.

  His eyeballs counted 286 soldiers in the camp, all of them well-trained and thoroughly infused with Chi that made them much more capable than your average footman. They were nothing but an advance force, though they were far more powerful than his own walkers. He had no training whatsoever, and he did not have the advantage of anything like Chi to offset their edge on that field.

  His eyeballs scouting further ahead counted even more soldiers a hundred miles away, around a thousand strong, and these were far more heavily armed and armored than the ones he was facing. While the forces accompanying Shen Feng wore light leather and arrived by horse, the forces arriving all had lamellar armor—layered plates of what looked like bronze bound toge
ther by leather straps—and were followed by a supply train carrying all that they would need for a campaign. They even looked like they had planned on building siege weapons on-site, with the large amount of lumber that buffalos were hauling along on carts.

  What really caught his eye, however, were the ones in the sky. Martin noticed around a dozen men and women riding what looked like oversized staves, which somehow allowed them to ride through the air. They were awfully condensed with energy—with Chi as Yao Xiu described it—far more than what the troops below them were mustering. Martin assumed they were some sort of special forces, maybe masters in the practice of Chi. They gave chase as soon as they saw the eyeball, though it was able to zip away since it was smaller, more agile, and could reach higher altitudes than the staff-riding warriors.

  No, this was a fight that Martin was sure he could not win. He didn’t even want to fight in the first place, even if it was one that he could win. He was setting up to deal with far more powerful invaders, and he wanted to form ties that would strengthen not just his forces but the forces of this world. Starting a fight now would not help that cause.

  This was why he needed to open up dialogue now, to somehow make a compromise, before the Ren decided to simply kick him out of their territory.

  Soon enough, he saw a familiar face break through the lines of troops that formed a wall between him and the camp. It was Yao Xiu, who looked like she was a rabbit cornered by wolves and wanted nothing more than to just run away. Beside her strode a man wearing lamellar armor and sporting a ridiculous white tiger skin over his helmet. To the guy’s credit though, he managed to make the whole look work for him. He towered almost a foot over poor Yao Xiu, who was doing her best to look tough despite her shaking legs. He marched on with full confidence, not a shred of hesitation showing on his face or in his body movements. He stopped in front of his men and stood, feet wide apart and his substantial arms crossed on his meaty chest.

  “Shen Feng, General of her Majesty’s White Tiger Army, stands before you,” shouted the man, whose amplified voice rippled through the air and into everyone in the area. “The Empress’ forces—mighty, resolute, unyielding, unbowing—stand prepared to face you. You, who trample upon Her Majesty’s lands without invite, speak your intentions now or face Her wrath!”

  Martin had asked for whoever was in charge of the camp, and he sure as heck got what he wanted. He mentally inhaled, and adjusted the speech he had prepared before traipsing into the camp.

  “My name is Martin Fuller. I come in peace, and wish no harm upon you, your people, or the Empress you serve. I hope to speak to whoever is in charge, that I may better explain my intentions.” His words came out from the walker louder than Martin expected, though he did his best to match the tone and volume that the general set.

  The man, this General Shen Feng, huffed before walking fearlessly toward the walker with Yao Xiu trailing nervously behind him. Soon enough, he stood a few feet away from the walker, eyeing it from head to toe and sizing it up. He wasn’t impressed.

  “So, clay man. I am here, you are here. You bring your men, your things, into Her Majesty’s lands. You go about digging up what is not yours, then occupying it like a common squatter taking advantage that the landlord is not around to guard his property. Most would consider this a brazen act of war, a slight upon Her leadership, even. And you do all this, without the common courtesy of declaring war in the first place.”

  He snorted and chuckled before continuing. “You even extract information from gullible young historians—” Yao Xiu winced at the slight, “—using elaborate fabrications and distortions of our ancient legends. I’ll have to give you credit, exploiting this little traitor’s eagerness for your own benefit, though you will need to start explaining yourself—fast—before I decide to end your pitiful existence.”

  Martin’s walker calmly shook its head. “No need for threats, general. War, invasion, occupation—none of these are my intentions upon your people—”

  The general huffed, cutting him off. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  Martin continued ahead, ignoring his interruption. “—but it is my intent to try and help out where I can.”

  “Help?” interrupted the general once more. “By sending your troops into our land, and claiming one of our ancient sites for your own? Pray tell, how exactly does that help Her Majesty?”

  Martin resisted the urge to mouth off. Then he remembered that the belligerent man wasn’t wrong… at least not entirely. If he was going to be that way, then Martin decided to just lay all his cards on the table.

  “Then let me tell you a story, General Shen Feng, the story of why I have so rudely intruded upon your lands in such a hurried manner.”

  “Ah, yes, to fight these ‘invaders’ you keep harping on about. Your concern is noted, but the Empress’ great armies are more than—”

  It was Martin’s turn to cut off the man. “I have seen a vision of your ancestors, people whose dress and speech and manners match yours. They lived like you, they loved like you, they cried like you. They were also far more numerous, better armed, and better skilled in controlling Chi than you. Those heroes of legend that Yao Xiu mentioned to me? I saw people like them in action. Their mastery of the energies was such that you and your men here would be nothing but specks in their eyes. And yet they fell.”

  Martin looked squarely in the general’s eyes, conveying as much outrage as the faceless, featureless ceramic body of his walker could. “I have seen hundreds of thousands of your brave warriors fight back, wielding weapons and energies far stronger than what you possess now, only to get blown away like mere chaff without even scratching their enemies. I have seen other peoples as well, all from this world. All those visions have one thing in common: none managed to stand against the invaders.

  “The people who built these bodies I inhabit right now?” Martin gestured with his walker’s hands, swiping the backs of his hands on the walker’s body. “They built millions of these things, seeded them around the world. They had developed weapons of energy that would melt a man’s face in seconds. They built pyramids like these, fortified them with as many weapons as they could. They were not able to do a thing—not a damned thing. They were culled just like your people, just like the other people of this world.

  “They got lucky once, managing to kill just one of their enemies—a brash lad who thought he was invincible. He wasn’t, and they used that luck to pass on their knowledge to some computer—some ghost in a machine. That ghost and others like it hid away for countless years, building on that scant bit of knowledge, and decided for some stupid reason to abduct me from my home world. It then brought me here, stuck me in these bodies, fed me the nightmares of its creators being harvested like livestock, and told me to protect you—all of you.

  “This is why I am hurrying, General. I do not know when this enemy will arrive. I do not know how much time I—we—have to prepare for this attack. I do not know when these great portals will rip through the air and bring hundreds of thousands of demi-gods into this world to consume more souls, leaving only enough alive to start over and repopulate this ‘farm’ of theirs.”

  Martin squared his walker’s shoulders, collecting his thoughts and trying to reign in any further outbursts. “Again, I do not wish harm upon your people, nor do I wish to threaten your Empress’ power. But I need to gather as much knowledge as I can if I am to fight back against these invaders. This pyramid happened to be in your lands, and I apologize if I acted on my own to secure it, but it does contain the knowledge and the facilities I need to defeat these foes. So… what can I do to prove that I am no threat to you or the Empress you serve?”

  The general remained silent for a few moments, glaring at Martin’s walker and trying to take his measure. “Surrender immediately, and stand aside while my men take back control of this pyramid you have misappropriated from Her Majesty.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The general was about to op
en his mouth when he suddenly snapped it shut, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Martin’s walker. “Did you just say ‘sure thing?”

  “Yep.”

  Martin nearly jumped in surprise when the general barked out a laugh. It was loud and boisterous, and it reverberated through the swamp. It wasn’t forced, and the general had tears in his eyes when he was done laughing his head off.

  He turned to Yao Xiu after managing to contain his mirth. “Little traitor, you might want to note this event as the most nonchalant surrender that the General of the White Tiger ever had the good fortune to accept.” He chuckled again, shaking his head in disbelief before turning back to Martin with the intent to iron out the details of the surrender.

  Chapter 15

  Soon enough, the General’s reinforcements arrived at the Leizhu Swamp. They were prepared to fight a strange enemy that had appeared overnight in the swamps, one that would hide behind the fortifications of a restored pyramid while sending soulless constructs out to face them. There was a mixture of fear and excitement, having to face demons of legend rising from the mysterious swamps at the western edges of the Empire.

  What they discovered was far from what they had expected.

  They arrived to a camp that was relaxed, with no sign of battle whatsoever. The scales on the armor of the advance force were clean, or at least as clean as their owners could manage in a swamp like this one. The guards were at attention but calm, dutifully manning their posts but without the harrowed looks of those who have recently faced mortal combat. What was strangest, however, were the little clay dolls scurrying about unmolested. They were all over the place, dumping clay on the ground and shaping it into roads that rose up a few inches above the muck of the swamp. They were accompanied by headless, four-legged creatures that carried the clay the dolls were using to build the roads. The mysterious floating orbs that stalked their lines from a distance were all over the camp; some were floating high in the air, others were scrutinizing random pieces of junk like they contained the secrets of the universe.