Home / Sci-Fi / Kingdom of the Weak / 280. Possible Cures
280. Possible Cures
Author: VicL
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

“There it is.” Remian said, as he and Little Yan approached the old herb garden he’d learned about in the Alchemist Guild Hall. “Pod, land in the middle of that garden.”

[Confirmed.]

“Little Yan, hand me the crossbow.” Remian said, squinting. “There’s a Blue Fang Ferocious Wolf hanging out around the edges. I don’t want it chomping us down for dinner.”

Little Yan carefully picked up the black assassin’s crossbow that cost them their entire earnings from their first foray together and handed it to Remian. Even with heavy bargaining, the best Remian could do was lower the selling price from 120,000 to 100,000 Black. They not only emptied out everything they earned from selling the cores to Elder Yun, they had to fork out more money to buy Tier 4 ammunition for the crossbow. After all the spending, Remian was pretty close to broke.

But looking at that wolf now, he felt it was worth it. That was a Tier 4 wolf, and Remian didn’t want to engage in a long, e

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  • Kingdom of the Weak   281. On Second Thoughts

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  • Kingdom of the Weak   282. Big Movements

    George tried to talk sense to the other side. “Admiral, a direct attack was pointless, we still have no way to Seal the Rift! Admiral! Admiral!” But which great Admiral would listen to a child? “All forces forward!! For glory!” “What are we going to do?” George was half-tearing at his hair in frustration. Tim sighed. “I’ll take the west side.” “What? What do you mean? What’s going on?” George blinked. “See that?” Tim pointed to Darian’s back. “That’s East.” “So?” George still didn’t get it. “I’m going that way.” Tim pointed in the other direction. “Why?” George was still blur. “To raise a ruckus and draw the Tier 8’s out to fight us. Otherwise that Libertarian fleet is going to run right into a wall of Tier 8’s and get themselves slaughtered.” Tim explained. “We have to draw their attention away from that fleet.” Mindy jumped up. “Chirpy and I will join you. We’ll let the Wind Emperor back Darian up.”

  • Kingdom of the Weak   283. Basic Formations

    “In this world of martial dao, the levels of arrays are denoted according to the power of their output, not their complexity. Therefore, both Lee Kee’s Shrieking Array and the Sandstone Raising Array are considered Level 1 Arrays, even though the Shrieking Array only consists of two layers while the Sandstone Raising Array requires nine.” Remian was reading the Alchemist’s Basic Guide to Formations. “However, generally speaking, the more power an array employs, the more complex it needs to be. Simple yet powerful formations are the dream of every array master, but are few and usually held very secret and very precious by those who know them and are not easily learned.” Remian took a break. He glanced over at Xiao Yan, sitting next to the Food Processor. “How goes your reading?” They had actually bought two copies of the same book so they could both read at the same time. “I’m still at the components.” Xiao Yan rubbed her head. “Core, supports, catalys

  • Kingdom of the Weak   284. Academia

    They went to the Headquarters and registered for classes. Registration went well enough until someone asked, “What is your cultivation level?” “Uh… we don’t have any cultivation. We’re physically unable to cultivate.” “You’re cripples?!” There was a sudden change in tone and temperament to be noted from the Registrar. In response, Remian quietly slipped a little something into the Registrar’s hand under the table. “Uh…” again, a shift in tone and temperament. “I’m sorry, I really am, but we can’t…” Another something was slipped under the table. “Please, understand! We really can’t…” A third something slipped from hand to hand under the table. “Uh… I…” the Registrar struggled, then closed her eyes and sighed. “I can’t. I’m truly, truly sorry. But we can’t certify a Formation Master who can’t actually make or use Formations, and you can’t do that without being able to control Qi!” “I don’t need certificati

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  • Kingdom of the Weak   286. Young is not a problem here

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  • Kingdom of the Weak   288. Fall of an Emperor

    [Tim?] [Yes, Darian?] [Can you go check on Mindy? I have a bad feeling.] [She said she’s fine.] [She always says she’s fine. Do you always believe her?] [Usually. She’s a tough girl.] [I know, but…] [Darian, in case you didn’t notice, I can’t fly. Without Khar’al-dras, I’m just about useless in a fight of this level. Even if I went over and left Khar’al-dras here, there wouldn’t be much I could do.] [Bring the dragon.] [And leave the Wind Emperor alone without any correspondent? Are you serious?!] [Okay, that would be a bad idea. He’s liable to comandeer the entire defense line and have them all charging the enemy blindly.] [You mean, like George is doing right now?] There was a short, awkward silence. [I’ll bring the dragon.] Tim concluded. [No, don’t. Keep an eye on the Wind Emperor. I’ll go see if George can muster up some backup for Mindy.] *** [Backup?

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  • Kingdom of the Weak   

    523. Comms

    Somewhere along the line, he’d lost consciousness. George only realized it when he woke up to a splitting headache. “Ow.” He groaned. “What... where...?” “We’re on the way back to Sorrel.” Grace told him, appearing by his bedside. And it was a bedside, he realized. He seemed to be in the Kara’s Medical Bay. “I’m sorry. We had to retreat.” “Our... people?” George managed. “The HAC Troopers made it back. The Mechs... did not.” Grace paused. “We have the refugees though. And the Robotic Assembly Plant for Mining Drones. That’s all they managed to grab.” George slurred. “Mech pilots?” “Alive, if battered.” “Good. Alive is good.” George sighed. “This... didn’t go so well.” “Hey, at least we got the guys we were trying to save, and some machinery on top of that. You might say it was a success. A costly one, but a success.” “Casualties?” George asked. “Plenty of injuries to go around, but no deaths. So far.” Grace paused. “Some of the really badly injured might change that before lo

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    522. Second Aid Mission

    “Were these really the best you could do?” George asked, eyeing the six hulking figures in front of him hesitantly. “Mmm.” Juni grunted. In front of them were six brand new Mechs. 2nd Generation products, they were armored weapons platforms on legs, with jumpjets for the signature ‘jumps’ that earned their generation the nickname, ‘Jumpers’. Or were they? George wasn’t entirely sure. When he looked at them, they really looked more like 1st Generation Walker-types. Those Jump Jets seemed to be an afterthought, an added equipment haphazardly strapped to their backs. “Would they really work right?” Juni shrugged. Given the time and materials he had to work with, George supposed he couldn’t expect better. He had only just received 2nd Gen tech. Until now, he’d been working with 1st Gen expectations and schematics. One of these Mechs seemed a bit worn, evidence that it had been built quite some time ago, and only recently been modified for George’s requests. “Fusion Cell for power, Pu

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    521. Next Step

    It turned out that they also needed to acquire salvage rights to haul away ‘scrap metal’. Fortunately, that was a simple affair now that they had local currency. 50 USD and the matter was done. Grant, being the nearest specialist on matters of scrap to their location, graciously offered to transport their ‘scrap’ directly to their vessel out of sheer goodwill. Finally Benny and Sam went to try out the barbecued skewers. At Grant’s recommendation, though, they didn’t go to the Starport roadside stall. They ended up at another roadside stall run by a ‘foreign refugee’ someplace downtown not too far from Grant’s workshop. There, each skewer was loaded with rows of thick, juicy beef sausages, and only cost 20 USD for 10. Benny stretched. “Not bad for our first day. We’ve got three days here, don’t we? But we’ve already got half of what we wanted.” “What’s the other half?” Sam asked. “Technical manuals on engineering, power and propulsion. Tech, basically.” Benny yawned. However, whe

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    520. Uber States Colony

    “Black Fang, you are cleared for docking. Follow the designated path and welcome to Trifer, colony of the Uber States.” Benny stood on the observation deck of the Black Fang below the bridge, listening to the conversation between the comms officer and the dock authorities. He eyed the massive sprawl of structures and smoke emitted below and wondered. “This is what they call a ‘small’ colony?” The colony was bigger than Craggy Falls, Kara-Goth and Nightshade City put together. “Just how many people live here?” Benny asked next. “According to our sensors, about half a million.” The bridge crew told him. Okay, that was less than the human population of the Sorrelian Migration, which, after including the Cumin survivors, was over 800,000. They shared the sensor feed with Benny, Sam and Foxy. Looking at the scope, Benny realized that most of the colony below consisted of machinery and robots. Furthermore, what he saw on the surface wasn’t even half the colony. The entire complex went

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    519. Scoop

    That evening, Benny and Sam left with Tim’s battle group, headed for the nearest Uber States outpost with medicine in the cargo holds. This left only one freight galleon to ferry materials and regretful space miners from the surface to Sky Haven. “It’s going too slow.” Remian decided. “I need to call Raven.” With Mindy busy trading across star systems, Raven had inherited (bought over) her airship fleet and company on the surface. They built more gunships and scout ships than freighters these days, mainly focused on providing recon and fire support to ground forces fighting Undead. But it was those freighters Remian needed now, the bigger the better. “We need them refitted for extreme high altitudes, as high as they can go.” Remian explained. “Also we need them spaceworthy, at least up to low orbit.” “You want our airship freighters to fly into space?!” Raven spluttered. “Yes, but not on their own. I want them to haul cargo and passengers as high up as they can. Around 30km woul

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    518. We should call Remian

    “Relax, I’m not asking you to build them from scratch. You’ll need to remodel a Galleon and a trio of our current Dropships. We do want proper Mech Carriers in the future, but for now, we need to deploy urgently, so we’ll just remodel what we have.” Ermine brought up some projections. “The Mechs in question are going to be Light Walkers, designed and built by J-Armory. Juni’s had a workable prototype for a long time, but it’s never been needed until now. Live testing is scheduled to start in three days. They’re powered by Fusion Cells, the kind that looks like dustbins, so you won’t need to worry about fuel lines, just cell-swapping. You won’t need to worry about replacing the He3 in the Fusion Cells either; spent cells will be sent back to J-Armory for recycling or refueling or whatever it is they do. Same goes for the weapons; Jamie’s J-Arsenal will handle maintenance and replacement and all that. The ship only needs to carry the Mechs, deploy them, and run basic maintenance. Repai

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    517. Objectives and Objections

    They met online the next day. Remian opted out, letting them handle it. Upon bringing up the subject of the Woofers’ request for more aid across different planets… Ermine snorted. “I refuse.” “What?” George stared. “I refuse to help them.” Ermine said stoutly. “I know that you guys all have some sort of savior syndrome, and it’s something that Remian seemed to have passed down from the very beginning, the sort of meddlesome hero complex that has you all trying to save the world at personal cost, but I’m no hero. I’m Tau, and we’re practical survivalists. We simply can’t afford to go around saving everybody. We need all our strength and resources to save ourselves. As for the Woofers, as a collective, they are a Class 5 Star Civilization, a whole class more advanced and stronger than us. They have their own governments and their own fleets. Let the Woofers help the Woofers.” Xiao Yan cut in. “As you say, they are a Class 5 Star Civilization. Since you’re talking about praticality, t

  • Kingdom of the Weak   

    516. Changing Gear

    “Go, go, go!” green light flared in the bay of the Dropship as the floor fell away. George and twelve other figures were unceremoniously dumped on the ground nine feet below. They landed with heavy impacts. George staggered, realizing the gravity on this world was at least twice what he was accumstomed to back home. For a moment, he regretted leaving his Frame back on the ship, but they were here to clear the bandits out from a city center, meaning tight spaces, narrow access points, and needing to take care to avoid civilian casualties. Or at least, that was the plan. George and his squad had been deposited on the outskirts of the city, at the very border of a suburban district. “Incoming!” someone yelled. George crouched as something exploded; the ground shook and chunks of dirt flew through the air. “Get to cover! Return fire!” George called, even though he wasn’t entirely sure where the attackers were, exactly. The guys diving behind nearby garages and a public toilet clued hi

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    514. Out there

    Quite predictably, the first of those calls to reach Sorrel II was from their dear friends, the Woofers. Three Paws explained it. [This is from Kelso III. It’s an agrarian world, roughly eighty hours’ flight from here for our fleet. Local gang bosses have titled themselves warlords and suppressed the citizenry with brute force. They take whatever they want, and demand whatever payment they like, on pain of death or torture. Local law enforcement has been completely overrun and even planetary militia couldn’t save the settlements under their control. The best our local paws could do is contain the situation and prevent it from getting worse.] Remian sipped hot coffee. Eighty hours flight for the Woofers Fleet should mean a bit less than seventy for the Tau fleet. “That’s rough. But what’s the point of calling us here to tell us this?” [We can help them. Just one division of your fleet could make a huge difference against these local gangs.] At the moment, the Sorrelian fleet consist