Chapter 829 – Into the Long Night

The assistance of Paradeisius and Tartarus in the Great War left a black mark in the White Pantheon’s history. The easiest comparison would be that no matter how good, noble and gracious a king that murdered his father for the throne could be, he will always be looked down upon as a kinslayer. That is the debt the White Pantheon must carry and it is partly the reason of why Pantheon Peace had so much opposition in its founding. We were never Arascus and his Empire, we were a collection of desperate souls that happened to find power brokers who won the war for us.

No matter how many stories Helenna spins, or how many times Theosius tries to justify the ending of the war, or for how long Allasaria tries to moralise and say that it was a needed policy, the simple fact of the matter is this: Were that pair of worlds not come to assist, I would not be writing this book right now. Would it even be the end of the world? It would be the end of an Era, definitely, but I unsure of how world-ending an Arascan Arda even would be at this point.

And no matter what happened, the Arascan Arda would not carry with it a black mark of betrayal. Maisara was correct from the very start, the moment we called them into the war, it stopped being about us standing up to Arascus and became about Arascus standing up for Arda. Even now, you hear the whisper of traitor in taverns, and even now, Helenna’s reports are constant with the fact that this world was sold out. My Guardians report the same to me, even now, five decades past, those who were in their teens when they marched under my banner, who knew men from before the other worlds were called in, talk of how they receive looks wandering through the greatest city and the smallest village.

There will never be a Great War again, not because Arda is not capable of that level of violence and organisation, or because I live in some notion that the White Pantheon will continue forever and will not inevitably devolve into civil war, but because I am certain that should anyone propose an alliance with other worlds, they will be put down on the spot.

It was a one-trick pony. The stipulations and treaties we had to sign in exchange for their help seemed almost immaterial in the war. Now, when Ardan gold is still being sent off to Tartarus, and when we measure the debt not in years but in centuries, we live to serve as example.

Fight well. Fight hard. Fight with all you have. But never, ever, bring an outsider into an Ardan war.

And if they do show up, then whatever grievance we have with each other becomes miniscule. Even if the ancient Divinity is more tolerant to pragmatism, I can taste the shift in the air. There will not be a single Divine born this Era that will consider allying with other worlds an acceptable scenario.

- Excerpt from “Looking back and Looking ahead”, written by Goddess Fortia, of Peace.

“What about holdout positions?” Kassandora asked as she looked over the map of Aris, a map line in blue running down it where the portal remained open over the city. Kavaa by her side, Fortia on the other side of the table. Battle-lines had to be re-drawn, and they had to be re-drawn quickly enough. An hour was too long. Everything should have been prepared thirty minutes ago. There was a pattern now, five hours after the opening of the portals, they had survived the first wave.

Rather, cities with defenders organised enough to push the Paradeisian assault back, or cities with Divines that could handle it themselves, had stalled the attack out. Other places, which had faced heavier attack, were still recoiling. And the list of Divines that could clear out the angels was a short one: Allasaria and Irinika, obviously, and Anassa. Iniri had proved rather useful in fighting the angels, but Maisara and Fer, both alone supporting Arburg and Zawitz respectively, were still have sporadic fights. Arascus’ position was constantly under threat. Arcadia likewise was locked down. Fortia leaned down over the map. Aris would serve as the baseline, and then every city would employ at least part of the tactics they used here. “Holdouts are good.” Fortia said. “But the issue is that its all contextual. Here, we have districts that can be fortified.”

Kassandora knew exactly where the woman was looking. The La Bastille area was easy enough to turn into a castle, and rich section of Aris in the north-west had a pedestrian sprawl wide enough for a full anti-air amoured division. “But we don’t have time to review every city in the Empire independently.” Kassandora said. “So holdouts, or no?”

“Holdouts.” Fortia said. “I’d advise battle lines too. Stretching from one location to the other.” Kavaa moved to the window of the town hall, the unofficial headquarters for the battle. There was still gunfire there, although War’s Orchestra had beaten back the initial attack, they had no way to truly close the portal. And without overwhelming magical superiority, there was no real way to threaten the angels into closing it themselves.

“There’s another probe coming out.” Kavaa said and the pair of Divines at the table, one in a black uniform, the other in ancient bronze armour fell silent. A moment later, Aris howled as its defences open fire from a dozen directions. The goal was simulate buckshot. Not the single-shot accuracy of a sniper but simply covering the entire general area with so much lead that there was nowhere to dodge to, and that even blocking became impossible when death came from all direction at once. The hardest part had been getting the timing correct without War’s Orchestra. “And it’s gone.”

“Battle lines.” Fortia said. “Two or three rings, to catch anything we miss.”

“Spread out troops throughout the city in squads?” Kassandora asked. For once, she did not see it.

“Go into homes, pairs or threes, and shoot out of windows.” Fortia said, Kassandora stared at the map, then at Fortia, then at the map. It was there, but if they were going to be turning civilian homes into military targets then…

“Why not everywhere?”

“Why not everywhere?” Fortia asked. Kassandora had no good reply to that. It was the sort of thing she should have thought of. If they had the cover of a city, why stick to major locations only? “Soldiers would evacuate civilians though. Or force them out.”

“Do that on an individual case-by-case basis.” Kassandora said. “As in, leave it to the local commanders, that isn’t our job to figure out.”

“It’s not.” Fortia said, her eyes went to the portal. “That is though.” She tapped it with her finger. “How the hell are we supposed to close that?” Kassandora ran through all the answers she could conceive of that weren’t just wishful thinking: moving Elassa around the entire country was no strategy, and it solved another at the end of the day either. Paradeisius could just reopen the portal the moment that the Goddess of Magic was confirmed to be in a different location. And local mages, even if they could disturb the magic, had to fly to high, channel too long, and block lines of fire too important. Maybe in Aris it could work, but Aris had been all but secured.

“What about a counter-attack?” Kavaa said. “Force them through?”

“How?” Fortia asked.

But as Kassandora stared at the map, she could picture it. Kavaa had the write idea, of course she would. She was a doctor, her entire field was not about making miracles but rather normalizing them. Even if she could not figure out how, the specifics did not matter. What mattered was the question. “We do have ways to hit them.” Kassandora said. “Same as with the nuking plan, we go straight through the portal.”

“The nuke is one thing.” Fortia said from her side of the table. “This is another entirely.”

“What’s the difference?” Now the Goddess of Peace was creating problems were there weren’t any. Kassandora looked down at the map, then walked to the window to see how high the blue line was in the sky. Some eight hundred metres. Not really that low, and not really that high either. High enough to make the firing of small arms through it impossible. “A nuke can drop in from above and we’re done with it. It breaks the relay on the other side and closes the portal on its own.”

“We don’t necessarily have to close portals.” Kassandora said. “They’re the natural chokepoint, on the other side.” It was difficult to explain with words, so Kassandora just drew a line an empty section of the map, where there were only fields. “That’s the portal.” She drew a large circle on one side. “Currently, the kill zone is here, on the Ardan side. I propose we move the kill zone here.” She drew the same circle, mirrored on the other side.

Fortia just stared at the simple diagram as if she didn’t like the idea of it. The woman was so always too cautious. That was the issue, of course she was the Goddess of Peace. Her strategic and tactical skill were two things that were masterful in spite of, and not because of, that caution. That was the difference between one actually understanding the fundamentals of warfare versus merely being skilled at skilled at it. “At the correct angle.” Kassandora began. “Artillery will be able to shoot through the portal.”

Fortia blinked and stared at Kassandora. “What?”

“They can come out, theoretically, why can we not go in?” Kassandora asked.

“I understand the logic Kassandora.” Fortia said. “You would need guns in the city, almost straight under it. They’d be sitting ducks.” They would, Fortia was damn right. And yet that was a price that Kassandora was willing to pay.

“A successful artillery test would prove we can shoot through the portals. Then, the airforce can dumbfire into the rifts.”

“The air attrition would be insane.” Fortia murmured. It would. Half the reason that they were struggling was because the angels could shoot down planes. To go for such low flights? Ones that would have to be slow enough as well.

“Whereas a napalm missile would buy a city ten minutes. Ten would buy an hour.” Kassandora said. “That’s the price I’m willing to pay.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Fortia asked.

“Then it doesn’t work, we lose what? A hundred men? Four, five guns? Five planes, at the most?” Kassandora replied.

“Then we’re wasting lives and resources.” Fortia said. Not wasting, that was the word of moralists and idealists. At worst, they were running a failed test. Surprise warfare was not about stupidity, everyone could predict what everyone could do. It was about taking an idea that everyone thought was too expensive, and then trying it out anyway.

“Whereas if we keep at what we are doing…” Kassandora looked at Fortia, that sort of argument was ineffective. Fortia should not be talked down to like a child, no, they had a real problem. “Do you understand the level of ammunition expenditure we currently have?” Fortia’s eyes grew wide, she caught on immediately. “Today, at the rate we are going, we’ll spend more ammunition than during any single day of the Tartarian War.” There were too many cities, and there were too many civilians, and most of them brought a rifle of their own. Every veteran of the Imperial got to keep his service weapon, that was one of Kassandora’s rules to make a functional home guard: a gun behind every blade of grass.

“How long?”

“We can keep it up for two weeks on pure stockpiles.” Kassandora said. “And the ammo factories are not going to be running whilst we need to direct power to the Lattice Project.” That was the real fear. It was not about running out of guns, or even getting defeated by Paradeisius, it was about running out of time. “The moment we reroute back to the gunpowder is the moment we assure ourselves that we’ve lost.”

Fortia opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Let’s go with the artillery plan.”

“Let’s.”