A crimson rain ca down hard on Springvale City, leaving no inch untouched. In the repurposed conference room at Lightwater Residences, Cliff sat at the head of the long table, face grim, the air around him colder than steel. High-ranking officers flanked both sides, all silent. The room felt like it was frozen.
Things had only just started to turn around. They’d cracked the secret of the Crystals - water wasn’t a problem anymore. As for food, several major grain depots near the city had offered a solution.
Coldre Town’s Ryan had also pledged allegiance, and with a surge of survivors found these past days, their numbers had shot from over ten thousand to 194,000 strong. Nearly two hundred thousand, a force like they’d never seen.
Not surprising, given Springvale City’s original twenty million population - even if only one in a hundred survived, that still made for two hundred thousand. And the real survival rate was higher than that. But just when things looked promising, that damn crimson rain had wiped out half their rookies overnight. The body count from yesterday alone was seventy to eighty thousand.
"Slaughter" didn’t begin to cover it. It was a feast for monsters in the apocalypse - just like the bloodbath when the world first fell.
The silence in the room felt endless. Finally, an officer slapped the table and stood up. "Commander! I’ve got a proposal!"
Cliff exhaled slowly, glancing at the man. "Sit. Speak."
"Yes, sir!" The officer dropped into his seat and said firmly, "I believe we should send troops to Ashbrook Town imdiately. The underground granary there was built as a warti supply hub for us. We can’t keep stalling. We need to take it now."
His words dragged the room back into a brief silence. Ashbrook Town had been ntioned again and again lately - problem was, the Sovereign Vanguard was split. One faction pushed for imdiate assault. The other argued to delay, focusing on collecting Crystals, especially Water Crystals, further out.
Food wasn’t quite as urgent. Water, on the other hand, was critical. Ashbrook wouldn’t move, but the teors wouldn’t wait, and the mobs outside battled them for Crystals every chance they got. The plan was to grab the Crystals first - Ashbrook could wait. They just hadn’t thought soone like Vulture would later blow up the whole grain town just to pressure them.
Another officer, from the conservative camp, broke the uneasy silence, his voice tight. "Sure, we’ve got numbers. But not firepower. One gun for every ten n, and we need at least three thousand left in the city. Ten thousand more for the Crystal teams. As for ammo? We’re almost dry. The squad we sent to Central Logistics? Not a single one’s co back."
"Exactly!" another officer chid in. "Every ho here has rice. Counting the storage depots, that’s enough to feed us for half a year, easy. Why’s everyone in such a rush to hit Ashbrook? Water’s our real crisis. That should be priority."
Water was key.
In Magnus’s past life, that very thought - that water ca first - had led large city commanders to hesitate. All knew Ashbrook was there, yet none moved on it fast. They all went chasing water instead. That left the door wide open for Vulture.
The two factions kept arguing, voices rising by the second, until Cliff slamd his palm on the table. "Enough! Stick to the plan. Crystals first. Once the ones outside the city are mostly dug out, then we move on Ashbrook Town."
"Commander!" One officer shot up, anxious. "Mining crystals and hitting the granary in Ashbrook isn’t a conflict! We could spare 500 n - 500’s enough to take it!"
"Five hundred?" Cliff let out a dry chuckle. "Sure, 500 can take it. But you think the other forces are just going to stand there and watch? We send 500, they send 1,000, maybe 10,000. You think we can hold it?"
The Sovereign Vanguard had 80,000 soldiers. Cliff personally led 20,000, the other 60,000 split into six divisions sent to rescue other cities. But then three of those divisions - 30,000 n - turned rebel. Now they were scattered forces with their own agendas. The remaining three divisions still held firm, controlling their cities securely.
With the survivors in those cities added in, those loyal battalions likely had over 100,000 troops now. And those rebels? They’d rallied more survivors too. So even returned to the areas we used to protect. Exact numbers were unclear, but they weren’t small, and they were all uncertain elents. Cliff couldn’t risk it.
"But Commander, what if soone else hits Ashbrook first? Do we just let them take it?" the sa officer pressed on.
Cliff’s tone was calm, but firm. "If even we can’t afford to pull enough troops and gear for a real strike, then no one else can either. So what if they take it? Without control over water, it’s pointless. Let’s see how long they can survive with just whatever Water Crystals they dig up."
"I agree with the commander." Another officer promptly stood up. "We’ve got enough food for now. Worst case, we start growing our own. But water? That’s limited. We’ve got to focus where it matters most."
That settled it. The debate was over. Then Cliff pivoted straight into the next issue. "Oliver, you’re in charge of logistics now. Tell us - how many won are left in the unit?"
Won? Why was the commander suddenly asking about the number of won? What did that have to do with the crisis?
From the troops that rged with Ryan’s unit from Coldre, Cliff’s people had gotten wind of their tactics. One, in particular, stood out - military prostitutes, used to reward soldiers and boost morale.
Cliff had noted that. But he wasn’t just thinking about physical needs. He was thinking further.
Most junior officers who led field teams used to have families. Now they were alone. No roots. All it could take is one wrong move, one threat of punishnt, and they’d flip, leading their n against him.
But if every officer had a partner - soone they cared about - and those won were firmly under Cliff’s control, the whole equation changed.
"Reporting, Commander," said Oliver, rising with a stiff posture. "Before the crimson rainfall, we tallied over 37,000 won in our ranks. But the buildings housing them took the worst hit yesterday. Early estimates show we’ve lost at least 20,000."
That ant only about 10,000 won survived in Springvale now. And among them? Many were elders or children. anwhile, the n under Cliff’s command still numbered over 100,000.
Everyone in the room felt uneasy. They knew what Cliff was hinting at. But if most of the surviving won still had family - husbands within the army, even - was Cliff really going to try to control them? Wouldn’t that spark backlash? Maybe even unrest?
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