Enlightened Empire - Chapter 429: Fog of War
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Chapter 429: Fog of War

Chapter 429: Fog of War

"You're Alcer, are ya!?"

Again. Why is everyone staking out in front of my house?

By now, Alcer felt like he was back in the jungle, with enemies in waiting all along his hunting paths at all times, in search of a moment of weakness. Every time he thought he was safe, with his home in view, someone would jump him from nowhere. However, when the veteran turned around, he found that this particular enemy didn't look too threatening.

A burly man had been waiting around the corner of Alcer's house until someone had entered the yard. Now that the home's owner had appeared, he came towards him and Kichka. The new intruder was quite tall, maybe half a head taller than Alcer, but the army veteran had no reason to be afraid. From what he could tell, he certainly looked less of a threat than Aunt Anka.

"Are you from the bank, friend?" Alcer asked, smiling in the face of the guy's attempt at a scary face. "I received your note a few hours ago and already wanted to contact your people soon. So there was no need to come here in person. Still, I want to be a good host. Would you like to come inside and-"

"Shut it! I'm not from some bank, sh.o.r.elander. I am the head guard of the great Master Rimaq, master craftsman of Sillu Island's great papermaking manufactory." Together with his prideful, booming voice, the guy sneered, and walked up until he was half a step too close to Alcer, an uncomfortable distance. "Master Rimaq sent me. He's heard about your little talk with that drunkard Kyunya."

What a strange guy.

That was all Alcer could think, really. What was a 'sh.o.r.elander' in the first place? Since they were living in Saniya, surely they were all living by the sh.o.r.e. Rather, he couldn't even see the sh.o.r.e from his house. And what exactly would a craftsman need a private guard for anyways, multiple at that? However, there was no reason to spark a conflict with the man. Although he could already guess what this 'head guard' had come to do, his reply remained simple, yet polite.

"And what is your master's message?" His words were calm, his face without expression. Sometimes, calm confidence was enough to let thugs like this back off. This time, it didn't work.

"And Master Rimaq, in his benevolence, sent me to warn you," the sh.o.r.e guy continued, still as aggressive as before. "That drunkard Kyunya is a liar, and a thief. Don't trust a word he says. Whatever work you plan to do with him, you should stop right now, before you regret it."

Barely a veiled threat anymore, huh? Looks like this Rimaq is quite petty.

"And what if I don't take your advice?" Alcer asked, as he barely held in a smile.

Though at the same time, he tensed his body, and prepared to defend a sucker punch, or a suddenly drawn knife. He knew quite well how these sorts of people fought. However, the sh.o.r.e guy's response was milder than expected.

"Then I'll have to teach you some manners first," he said. "Show you that you can't just mess with the papermakers without getting cut."

As he spoke, the big man moved even closer to Acler, and held him by his collar. However, his grip was poor, and he made no attempt to protect his lower body.

This guy didn't spend a second in the army,

Alcer concluded.

Any soldier trained in Saniya had also received extensive training in hand-to-hand combat. They would never have to rely on size and intimidation alone, and they would never be as unprotected as this man. Just when Alcer wanted to teach the idiot a lesson, the guy's unpleasant face turned to shock as he disappeared to the right.

As he had probably run out of patience as well, the previously ignored Kichka had grabbed the paper guard's arm and twisted it backwards. With his blanket around him and his huddled figure, Kichka must have looked like he was no threat. It was a costly mistake for the big man. Before Alcer knew it, his subordinate had brought the head guard to the ground and straddled his back, while he applied enough force to his bent arm to make him scream.

"Who do you think you are, fat man?" he shouted. "Did you think you could just mess with an army officer, huh!? You're not doing anything to the captain, not with me around!"

Faced with real fighters, the fake guard lost all his bravado.

"Aaaah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It was a mistake," he shouted, with tears in his eyes.

"You're d.a.m.n right it was. You must have been sniffing to much of your paper glue to think you could come here and show off, right!?"

"Yes! I'm a glue sniffer! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"That's better."

Finally, Kichka let go of the paper guard, who stood up and sheepishly rubbed his twisted arm. In the good tradition of his trade, he crumpled quite easily. For a few seconds, he viciously stared at Alcer, but Kichka stared right back, so he didn't dare take a step forward again. Still, it seemed like he hadn't really learned his lesson yet.

"You better listen to Master Rimaq's advice,

officer

," he finally said. "This isn't over yet."

With that, the guy turned around and ran as quickly as he could. He was probably expecting retaliation to his words, and he was right.

"How dare-" Kichka wanted to go after the guy and punish him some more for his nonsense, but Alcer held onto his old subordinate's arm.

"Let it go," he said. "He didn't really do anything illegal, not that he could. But if you go at him one more time, you might just kill the guy, and I don't want to deal with a murder happening on my doorstep. Let's just ignore the glue sniffer and go inside. It's been a long day."

Once Alcer and Kichka had entered Alcer's home, both took a seat, as best as possible under the circ.u.mstances. After some debate, the retired officer ordered his old subordinate to sit on the only chair, while he had to make do with the bed. Once he had money, he would first buy a hundred chairs, he decided.

"Thank you for dealing with that idiot," the retired officer finally said.

"No need to mention it, captain. I know you could have easily dealt with him yourself."

Alcer really had no interest in bragging about his own prowess. He wasn't that good at close combat in the first place, and far more comfortable behind a rifle at a distance.

"No, you handled yourself well," Alcer commented instead. "That was a good submission grip."

For a second, Kichka looked happy with the compliment, before his body visibly deflated.

"I guess that's at least one good thing I have left from my time in the war," he said, and sighed, as his eyes wandered around the room. Whatever he had been thinking about, his mood seemed to have been restored once he finally looked back at Alcer.

"Maybe I can use that, keep troublemakers like that glue sniffer away from your manufactory, captain," Kichka said. When he saw Alcer's confused face, he rubbed his hair and explained further. "I mean, if you hire me, I don't want to be useless. I won't be much help with making paper, right? "

"Why would you think I'm making paper?" Alcer finally voiced his confusion, before he realized. "Oh, no, the paper guard from earlier didn't threaten me because I'm trying to take their business. They're not compet.i.tion. That was about a different matter entirely. One second."

Rather than explain the complicated business between Kyunya and Rimaq a business he himself hadn't quite understood yet Alcer stood up again and put the bayonet prototype from the corner of the room onto the table. Surely, this was a more productive topic than vague speculation about who was lying between master and disciple.

"Rather than paper, this is what we're going to produce," Alcer finally, before he explained his new bayonet concept for the second time today. By the time he was done, Kichka was turning the prototype in his hands and observed it with an admiring smile, similar to Mallku this morning.

"You always were a sharp one, captain," Kichka finally commented and put down the bayonet. "We really could have used this thing in that d.a.m.ned jungle. You know, I also came up with a..."

Halfway through his sentence, Kichka's words broke off, and he looked to the side. His expression looked uncomfortable, his brows all scrunched up like that, clearly unwilling to continue. However, Alcer was intrigued.

"What did you come up with?" the curious veteran asked. "Maybe we can make use of it in our new company."

Already, Alcer was saying 'our' company. In his mind, the loyal, mindful, and troubled Kichka was a full member of his non-existent company already. However, this new partner was still lacking some confidence.

"No, please forget about this," he said. "Unlike you, captain, I'm not good at thinking."

"That'll be for me to decide, surely," Alcer countered, before he emphasized: "Out with it."

For a second, Kichka still struggled, but the subordinate just couldn't withstand his superior's stare.

"Fine," he finally conceded, with another sigh. "The idea had almost the same origin as this bayonet. That's why I thought of it when I saw this. You know how we had those ramrods, and then the cleaning rods for all the barrels. We kept losing them."

"That's right," Alcer remembered. "Every time we came back to our camp, we had to replace a few."

"Yeah. I was so useless, kept dropping them. Sometimes, my hands would shake so bad that I couldn't even get those fiddly things into the barrel at all."

That's nothing to be ashamed of.

That was what Alcer truly thought. Most men would struggle with their nerves during war, himself included. As far as he was concerned, Kichka had shown more bravery than most. Still, he knew that such comfort would sound hollow to the veteran, maybe even like an insult. Since Alcer really didn't know what to say, he remained silent and just listened.

"I thought about it. That moment when I was reloading kept going around in my head, how tense it all felt," Kichka continued, before he began to imitate the practiced motions of reloading his weapon. "I think the worst part was that I had to set the stock against the ground, and then look down, as I awkwardly tried to get that long rod into that thin barrel. Then I remembered your rifle, captain."

Ever since his time in Silla, Alcer had been granted an expensive rifle which used a bolt action reloading mechanism. Of course, he had continued to use the same weapon throughout the civil war, so he was intimately familiar with it.

"So I thought, why not do the same kind of bolt for the ramrod?" Kichka asked. "Imagine. The ramrod is inside the barrel, in a second chamber under the first one. It's on a rail, just like your bolt, except along the length of the barrel. And then, when you want to load or clean the barrel, just push the rod out a bit, spin it in front of the muzzle, and then pull it all the way down through the inside, and then back up. Done. It's faster, easier, and no more lost rods. I can even keep looking at the enemy ahead while I do it."

With his experience with bolt actions, Alcer had an easy time imagining it. Although he couldn't say much without the real article in front of him, since he wasn't a craftsman, he couldn't think of any problems with Kichka's invention off the top of his head.

"That's... a pretty good idea," he finally commented, before he moved on to the important part. "Do you have a patent?"

However, Kichka shook his head.

"No money for all that. And I don't even know if the idea is worth any salt in the first place. And how will I ever get this thing made? I don't know how to make a rifle. I couldn't have done that even at my best. It's worse now, with how I am."

After he had presented a barrage of problems, Kichka sank into self-loathing again. However, Alcer had a simple solution to all these issues. Not only would it solve problems for Kichka, it would also solve some of his own.

"Well, in that case, how about I help you? My manufactory is already in the weapons business. So why don't we make both of them together?"

When he had come to the docks, Alcer had just wanted to help his old subordinate. Now he had received help instead.

As he sat there, the fog which had covered Alcer's mind all day finally cleared. Bit by bit, he developed a plan, a plan for his own future, which would shape the future of the city. First though, he would have to confirm a few things.