Solemn Reinforcements

An Abyssal fleet always was an impressive and unimpressive sight in equal measure. The sheer scale of the ships was ludicrous. The biggest of the ships was 550 metres from point to keel. It towered 100 metres tall and had a prestigious width of 120 metres. It was an absolutely immense thing, surrounded on all sides by yachts and other vessels of lesser and yet still immense sizes.

However, it was also a cruise ship. To be exact, it was the very same ship that had carried John back to the USA after the tournament for the Rex Germaniae crown had concluded. It had been drafted or volunteered for the war effort and it bore the scars of it. Large grooves, left by enormous claws, were patched up with steel and other metals. Parts of the upper deck were entirely missing.

Of the other ships, only two were the camouflage blue typical of modern military vessels. Everything else was some degree of trading or transport ship that had been pulled into Rex Germaniae’s rapid mobilization. The heraldry of hundreds of noble houses fluttered on the decks.

The navy of heavily mixed ships was also relatively small in the number of vessels. There were only 8 of them in total. No more were needed with ships this size to transport the heart of Rex Germaniae’s armed forces.

As an aristocracy with old customs, the kingdom drew its military members primarily from the noble houses. That was the whole point of elevating strong elementalists above the rest of society. All privileges of taxation came with the obligation that they were the first to bleed for the country. A small but potent military. Such was the norm for much of the Abyss.

Although an entire cruise ship transporting regular soldiers could hardly be described as small.

Said cruise ship took up a sixth of the entire Harbour on its own. John watched it come to a halt, followed by other ships that respected the goliath’s need for space. His eyes were fixed on one of the two actual military vessels. It was small, entirely practical, and flew only two flags: the eagle on yellow ground that was the flag of Rex Germaniae itself and the eagle on the black-white cross that was Prussia’s coat of arms.

John moved his delegation to where that ship was coming to a standstill. He was accompanied by all but the most necessary members of his military staff, the entirety of his present haremettes, as well as dozens of servants, technical personnel, and journalists. Both he and Lydia had a disdain for the pomp and circus of events like this. Both of them also had a use for it. He for an uplifting display for his people and she because of the nobles that insisted on such events.

Especially when it was the first meeting between monarchs.

Lydia surfaced from the depths of her ship the moment it sat still. The Harbour extended a walkway with magical accuracy. A knight made motion to descend the stairs before her, but she grabbed them by the shoulder. One pull, one commanding step, and her will was asserted completely. All would come after her.

Lydia was an angel of steel and discipline. White-gold armour gleaming in the early morning sun, she descended like a mythical figure. Her copper hair and red lips shone all the more intensely for the navy grey background and the light colour of her plate. The cape made from sunlight fluttered in the breeze of playful wind elementals. Strimata vibrated in its sheath, underlining every step with a dramatic note.

Finally, Lydia made her first step on the ground of the Guild Hall. Her eyes were on him and his – on her man and her fellow loves. Their colour fluctuated between the sky blue of happiness and the dark grey of total rage. She did not let either emotion get the better of her, as she walked the distance.

Not until she had reached him.

John had expected the gentle touch of her armoured hand on his cheek. He had expected it, yet it reverberated in his soul. He put his own hand on hers, as he let her pull him in. They stood forehead to forehead. “You have my assistance for your vengeance, my love. You have my steel, you have my will, you have my might, for all that I can muster, as Lydia alone.”

“Thank you,” he whispered back and blinked back the first signs of tears. This was not the time.

Lydia took a half step back. The crowd beheld them both, waiting for either to speak. As host, it was expected of John to do so first. He just needed a moment.

“In the name of Fusion, I greet you, Queen Lydia Augusta the Fourth of House Hohenzollern, sovereign of Rex Germaniae.”

Some grumbles in the joining knights betrayed a degree of annoyance with his choice of title. Some likely thought he should have used the full length of her honours, most would have hoped he would have called her empress.

Lydia silenced them all with a raised hand. “I greet you, King John Newman, sovereign of Fusion. Against the horrors that besiege you, for the love I have for you and for the good of the planet entire, Rex Germaniae lends its aid. Romulus is on his way as well, but his forces were met with even greater resistance – resistance that the Apex will no doubt soon break.”

The crowd that had gathered to watch cheered at the news. They cheered even louder when Rave suddenly stepped forwards and pressed a deep kiss on Lydia’s lips. Gruesome was the war, but there was scarcely a time when two attractive women kissing was not uplifting.

Although initially surprised, Lydia returned the kiss eagerly. Pink and red lips were pressed together, tongues intertwined, and bodies pressed together. Lydia’s armour was practical in its shape, for all of its gleam, yet accentuated her curves just right to fit with the custom-tailored, expensive dress that Rave had put on for the occasion.

“A kiss from queen to queen,” Rave purred, after their little make out session had run its course.

“From queen to queen,” Lydia whispered in agreement, then directed her eyes to John.

The Gamer stepped forwards and claimed Lydia’s lips next. It was a much shorter affair, borderline chaste. He did not want to keep the nobles and the crowd standing there forever, when there was so much to work through. “My crown is not one I wear for this conflict alone,” he told her, loudly enough that the aristocrats behind her could know. “We’ll have to make some minor adjustments to our wedding arrangements – obviously not the matrilinear part of it.”

“We shall do that… Now, I believe we ought to begin planning?”

“Indeed, follow me,” John responded and gestured forwards.

Their processions merged and the crowd accompanied them, remaining an enforced distance away. It was a well-behaved crowd, so they respected the loose line of soldiers between them and the officials.

They took a scenic route. Time was not valuable at the moment. The war situation was developing elsewhere, according to input given hours ago. Rex Germaniae would need at least a few hours to disembark and get their supply in order. The Guild Hall had them covered when it came to raw materials, but distribution was half the battle in matters like this.

“You have valiantly fought off Tiamat,” Lydia said, once he had updated her on the situation. That was the public update anyhow, lacking many of the details that would have bored the public or military secrets he wanted to keep under wraps for one reason or another. “We would have gladly helped you in defending against that onslaught.”

The queen turned her head halfway, to lay her eyes on Lyndell. The ancient entity was part of the crowd and yet not. A visible ring existed around her that none dared breach. Veil over her face and clad in all black, as always, she followed them like a sorrowful banshee, quiet and ever-present.

Tactfully, Lydia did not ask about her yet.

“Your journey was a difficult one, I understand,” John spoke calmly. “The scars on your ships prove that much.”

“Indeed, my love. The cruiser was the target of direct attacks by Lorylim-infested orcas and other marine life that had grown to draconic size. Fortunately, we were in range to turn around and save them.”

John nodded, a gesture he had needed and wanted to make. “There’s nothing a sovereign should prioritize more than the welfare of their own people.” It needed to be said, lest anybody thought he was angry for the lack of swift aid. Nothing was worse than an entitled ally, for was someone that wished for help above the health of one’s friends a friend at all?

It was fortunate that he could treat his allied forces to the highest of standards when it came to food and housing. Both were easily created in the Guild Hall, now that the immediate threat of widespread destruction was over.

“It is fortunate for the world that you unified the continent when you did,” Lydia continued. “Admittedly, you claiming fame was to my personal benefit. Our relationship benefitted from this legitimizing factor. That it now turns out that you disrupted the Lorylim’s schemes on such a scale is an important matter, worthy of elevation. Had it not been for you closing in on their heart territory in Alaska, they could have continued their vile preparations until this entire continent was lost.”

“I thank you for the compliment. I just wished it wasn’t accidental nor came with this many lives lost.”

“As do all that govern over a crisis,” Lydia agreed.

They continued marching around the Guild Hall for almost two hours. Not only did it serve to let the public see that their rulers were in good spirits about the trajectory of the war, it also showed to the arrived aristocrats that, at least in the Guild Hall, the Lorylim well and truly had been beaten back. John did not doubt that some still crawled around on the bottom of the lake floor. If there were, they remained there.

Eventually, the procession went over the bridge that crossed the moat and into the Palace proper. It was at that point that the public was barred and that they moved to have the actual discussions of strategy. Their remaining procession was filtered away, drawn to various guest chambers of varying luxury by the maids Aclysia had so carefully trained over the years. Evacuating them had been done by Beatrice before her deployment and the crowning.

“So that is your crown?” Lydia pointed at the jagged thing, dangling from one of the decorative protrusions at the back of the throne. “It is ugly. It also fits your rulership.”

“What a nice thing to say,” John drawled sarcastically.

“You know what I mean,” Lydia said, then suddenly turned to Lee. The Fateweaver had hung on the outskirts of everything so far. “With the ceremonies out of the way… my deepest condolences to you as well. Your father and I corresponded infrequently, but I knew him to be a reliable and kind man.”

“Thank you, Lyly.” Lee bowed her head, then suddenly turned rigid. “Uhm, Lydia, I mean.”

“Lyly is fine,” the queen assured, her voice bereft of all steel. Like she had done for John, she stepped up to Lee, placed her hand on the younger woman’s cheek, and whispered her pledge, “You have my support in your vengeance. Be certain of this.”

Lee’s jaw tightened, making the muscles rise at the corners of her jaw. An abrupt nod signalled the end of their close contact.

All of this occurred under the watch of the joined military council. The throne room had more than enough space to accommodate all of Lydia’s cabinet in addition to Fusion’s leadership, alongside all of both factions’ support staff. The queen gave Scarlett’s artificial hands a displeased look, noted once more the presence of Lyndell, and took in the changes in atmosphere that the attack of the Lorylim had brought.

“Last we met each other, you were struggling with the question… You came to the answer that I desired, alas not in the way I wished you did.” She shook her head. “The change that five days can make in the world. I doubt your coronation was a festive affair.”

“It was not,” John confirmed, gravely, and walked to the throne. “Sit with me,” he invited her, tapping the open side on the broad throne. Whatever formal agreement they came to regarding their connection, this was the only right way to operate while she was there. Now and forever, no matter the titles, she was his equal.

Lydia climbed the steps of the dais and took her spot by his side. Her armour was a bit obtrusive, but cuddling was not appropriate for the occasion anyhow. Rave took the other side on the throne. The haremettes that saw themselves as useful for this kind of gathering stayed, the others retreated.

John quickly opened the Harem Comms and typed out a message for Lydia to read. It simply requested that she did not ask about Lyndell. Her true nature was something he still was more comfortable discussing privately, even if most people already had the right idea.

Taking the instruction, the queen led with the most important question of all, “What is our situation?”

“Not much different from what I told you out there, honestly.” John showed her the map that he had shown the Fusion staff two days prior. The zones of control for Fusion had expanded from the cities, with pathways showing the trajectories of the primary task forces. “We are reclaiming a lot of territory and are reestablishing proper contact with various settlements that were thought lost. That being said… the reality on the ground is also that we are regularly encountering Illusion Barriers that are completely infested.”

“Do you have an estimate on the civilian losses?”

“I have an exact number,” John told her. “A population count was part of my game mechanics. With the western areas integrated, we topped out at 621’125 people.”

It was far less than John would have projected when he had first landed on these shores. Typically, in European countries, about 1 in 100 people were Abyssal. That same ratio would have put about 3 million Abyssal across North America. Alas, constant anarchy and territorial disputes between small guilds did not for a large population make.

“What population do you have now?” Lydia asked.

“400’023,” John stated.

The number broke not only the composure of the newly joined knights, but of Lydia herself. It was a small slip up by objective standards. Wide eyes, a tremble to her lip, nothing more. It was an enormous crack in the stern face she usually wore. “221 thousand people have perished within 5 days?” she pressed out.

“That is the case, according to my game mechanics,” he told her. “We are still running the analysis, but so far it seems that most of the losses are on the Fusion heartlands, so the east coast, and the former Outer Mandate, so the west coast. The Lorylim went for the areas most densely populated and scoured them clean for biomass. This is in addition to everything they bring to this war by other means.”

He let the news hang in the air for some time. The size of the number ultimately did not matter, that was the conclusion John had come to. Whether he had lost 20 thousand or 200 thousand, his reaction was the same. He could not afford to let them live nor could his allies. The Lorylim needed to be crushed, the sooner the better.

The only issue was that, by the end of this, Fusion’s already enormous population issue would only be exasperated. They would hold an enormous landmass with no people to actually fill it. Politically, this spelled disaster for the aftermath of the war.

Lydia did not dwell on that.

“Then let us discuss the steps to take to save what remains,” she declared.

And thus the strategizing began.