The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]
Chapter 289 – Scramble in Arika

Those who see Kassandora describe warfare as an art, those who meet me ascribe the same term of ‘art’ to my skill at propagandizing. I am sure that it is meant differently, both of us operate so smoothly, so efficiently and so quickly that I am certain our skill is mistaken for grace.

Yet whilst the logic is wrong, the statement is true. Both I and Kassandora are creating art here. In the same way an artist has to make a thousand tedious strokes before any trace of his vision is visible, in the same way that one wrong brush is a tremendous set-back, in the same way that those untalented in the art can only see the end-product and nothing that came before, we make art.

And frankly, I would say that my hand is rather delicate and beautiful in its creation. Kassandora’s is not, if Kassandora was to be an artist, she would paint with hammers and erase with cannons. That woman is simply incapable.

- Malam’s complaining to Helenna.

Moods ebbed and flowed; it was simply the natural day-to-day tedium of emotion. Even Kassandora, stable as she was, would sometimes start to grumble and need a minute to calm herself down in order to get back to work. One thing that absolutely never changed was that the last thing she wanted to come across when she was building a new world was disturbance.

And disturbance was exactly what came, Helenna opened the door and sauntered in. As if to rub it in, Malam’s white hair peeked out from behind the doorway. The Goddess of Hatred followed Of Love, wearing that stupid smile which didn’t slow Kassandora’s already sullen mood down, it simply pushed it into a skydive. Kassandora looked past her feet on the table, she had been drunkenly humming to herself, her shirt was unbuttoned, her crimson hair was a mess, a dozen different telephones were scattered about her, those could go off at any moment to report that a plan had been finished, and she had a glass in her hands: whiskey, lemon, honey & warm water.

Helenna stopped and looked around the room. Her eyebrow rose for a second, her hair changed to a pale yellow, probably surprise or some other stupid emotion like that, and she looked back at the Goddess of War. Kassandora knew exactly what it looked like, the office was a warzone of organisation. She wasn’t leading a war in here, she was leading multiple. She wasn’t a slob like Fer, who would simply not organize, but when the time called for it, the rules of cleanliness could be bent to make way for the march of efficiency. Helenna crossed her arms. Kassandora practically dared the woman to say something with her eyes: go on Helenna, criticize the mess why don’t you? Helenna did not criticize the mess, Helenna criticized Kassandora. “Great,” Helenna said flatly. “Another alcoholic.”

“Shut up Helenna.” Malam said quickly and the Goddess of Love recoiled in surprise, but Kassandora did not care. Was it that flat ‘Great’? Maybe the ‘Another’? It certainly wasn’t the accusation of being an alcoholic, Kassandora didn’t particularly care what Helenna thought of her on a personal level as long as the woman didn’t mind working with her. But that great wasn’t disappointed, wasn’t annoying, it was… It was as if Helenna expected nothing more. The another was obvious, Helenna knew Malam well enough to know that the woman would drink a brewery dry in a day. But did Helenna actually compare the two? Kassandora sipped on whiskey as a treat. She did not down bottles to deal with her terrible demesne.

Whatever it was, it set off a spark in Kassandora. And that spark burned through foundations to collapse a dam. Kassandora did not bother shouting, she simply explained to this little Goddess of Love exactly how annoying and out of her depth she actually was. “Helenna, I am managing the creation of the Imperial Navy.”

Kassandora sighed as she put her phone into her pocket. Arascus had just rung. Arascus had the fleet procured. Yet Ausa did not want to give sailors. He had pushed them enough to at least have volunteer crews, but most of the captains had not decided to stay now that the Reclamation War was over. “Paper.” Kassandora said. One of the soldiers who had been conscripted to her office to join the secretary team immediately passed her a pile of loose sheets.

Kassandora’s pen got to work immediately. The fleet hierarchy could simply be a copy of Great War tactics for now, modernized, with the same structure of ranks as the Land Army. The only difference would be the name changes: Admirals instead of Generals and so on. And instead of brigades, it was individual ships. Instead of corps, it was groups of ships. Instead of armies, it was fleets. A real doctrine could be designed once Kassandora actually saw how the ships fared in combat.

Kassandora continued as she sipped on her whiskey. She did not even bother trying to re-button her blouse. “I’m re-arming our fleet.”

Kassandora looked at the diagram of the ANS Reclaimer. Ausan Navy Ship Reclaimer, although it was already set that it would be renamed to the INS Fortitude, short for Imperial Navy Ship. There was too little time to re-equip it with new guns, but that didn’t mean the ship had to simply stay as a floating artillery platform. The old-style shells would be switched out for newer models of high-explosive napalm rounds. The rear of the ship, where it had a spot for a pair of transport helicopters would be reused. Surface-to-air Skysweepers would be strapped down there and some surface-to-air missile launchers, if those would fit.

The smaller ships were the issue. They were pure-artillery wagons, nothing else, but if the UNN had an airforce, then sending these ships like this would be the equivalent of scrapping them on the spot. Half of the ships would be remodelled as hastily as possible. Their single-barrel cannons would not be taken out, they would be ripped off by sorcerer or expunged via welding torch, and in their place some mobile AA piece would be installed. It didn’t have to be pretty, it didn’t even have to be a long-term solution, it just needed to float long enough to make it to the UNN.

Kassandora sipped her whiskey and tasted the sweet honey within it. The addition of slightly warm water had been a suggestion by one of the soldiers from before. If there was one thing soldiers were experts in, it was mixing drinks. “I’m building the Uriamel Wall.”

A grand seawall pulled out of the ground by Iniri would have been good, but it would have confined the Goddess of Nature to remaining permanently stationed on the beaches of Kirinyaa for the next five years. Long story short, Iniri was much too useful to be wasted on building defences that may not even be used. Although Kassandora supposed that didn’t matter, her speciality was exploiting the collective willpower of humanity after all. Her eyes rapidly scanned the design one last time.

A bunker buried into a sand mound to hide it from the air, with dugouts for tanks and artillery. High-calibre cannons would be placed in solitary positions far from the coast, although not so far that they wouldn’t be able to bombard the beach. The bunkers would have small barracks for evacuated civilians. Soldiers would fight better if they had something to protect in the immediate vicinity too. The further from cities, the less defences there were. The assumption was simple, anything that wasn’t an immediate threat to a city could be bombed into oblivion.

Kassandora tipped her head back and finished her glass as she continued. “I’m finalizing fucking Alice.”

Kassandora watched two planes fly by overhead. She had enlisted Ambelee and Weaver’s sorcerers to help with today’s exercises. They were holding up burning logs of wood. Those logs had to be aflame, as the missiles were somehow designed to seek out heat by themselves. How, Kassandora didn’t pretend she understood. It was the same thing as gunpowder, she simply needed to know the mechanics of it, not the raw chemical composition.

She turned around as the planes went straight over her, and then launched their missiles. Both of them tilted away immediately, Kassandora had tasked them to shoot off-centre, so that the missiles wouldn’t score hits by accident. The planes turned, but those missiles kept flying forwards. Kassandora watched them, and she felt fresh air enter her mouth after it dropped in shock. Those two Alice missiles, curse their names, made very deliberate and very smooth arcs, they were far too defined to be simply swayed by gusts of wind. Two explosions in the air marked the advent of something that long ago Kassandora would have assumed would only have been possible through magic.

Malam’s lips burst into a smile at what Kassandora just said, but the Goddess of War did not let of Hatred have a chance to show off her talent at making utterly idiotic comments. “I’m making sure our planes can get to the UNN.”

“Captain Douglas and Captain Erik report that they have landed in KAFAF-Nine.” Naturally, Kassandora would be able to place where KAFAF-Nine was on a map with her eyes closed. It was a small base with a small run-way in the northwest. The size made it perfect for the lone pair of Raptors, it could only launch a single plane at a time. The soldiers called it Point-Northwest. Kassandora realised that the soldier given the report had stopped and was watching her for permission to continue.

She rolled her hand forwards to indicate for him to go on. “Falcon Squad One is at full readiness. Falcon Squad Two reports that one plane has malfunctions, technicians are being sent to repair the bird. Falcon Squad Three is reporting full readiness. Falcon Squad Four is currently being transferred to KAFAF-Eleven.” He took a breath. “Fuel trucks are enroute to KAFAF-Eight through to Thirteen, excluding Twelve.” And this is why Kassandora used such a wonderful naming scheme, look at how efficient that was to understand! “Alice Missiles are already there.”

Kassandora put her glass down on the table, eyes glaring at the two who had come here. Why even bother? “Those useless idiots ran out of batteries.”

Kassandora looked down at her phone. If there was one thing she would never call her sister then it was stupid. No, not at all. In fact, she would go as far as to call them intelligent even. Fer especially. Fer pretended to be stupid, but it was because she was smart enough to know that if she pretended to be stupid, she would be underestimated at every turn. If there was one thing that Arascus’ family had plenty of already, it was competence.

So as she looked down at her phone, a plan was being made on what whiskey to drink. One of the soldiers had suggested adding warm water, honey and lemon to it. That was certainly creative, but it did little to stem the annoyance building in her stomach as her eyes scanned her phone screen. It was a text from Fer, of course it was. Neneria refused to operate a phone; Anassa was too stuck-up to use one. So Fer had sent the text: “Sorry Kassie, I’m on 4% power, I thought we could scavenge batteries here. Can you send one?”

Kassandora reached down beside her chair and grabbed another whiskey bottle. She knew she was being rude at this point, but she had just been relaxing while at work. The only time her mind actually went quiet and stopped asking pointless, meandering questions was when the monotony of completing some objective overtook it. “So guess who fixed it for them?”

Douglas stared at Kassandora and at the tiny black box in his hands. He looked at it, then at Kassandora, then at the box. “Just this?” Douglas asked. Kassandora sighed as she thought of whether to explain or leave the man in the dark. She settled on the latter, it wasn’t important for him to know, it wasn’t explosives or anything that could be dangerous for his plane, it was simply a hundred phone batteries for Fer to have. Power banks too, as well as cables of all shapes and sizes.

“Just that.” Kassandora said. It wasn’t important and frankly, it was damn embarrassing that her sisters had not taken spares. Of course they wouldn’t though, they had never needed to worry about logistics when they had Kassandora to rely on. She should have thought of it. Kassandora dismissed Captain Douglas. The man walked off towards his plane, already in his black jumpsuit, in confusion. Kassandora needed a bottle to chase the shame of forgetting to fully prepare her sisters away.

Who did Helenna even think she was? Coming in here in a dress like that and having the gall to call her an alcoholic? Did she think she was going to seduce Kassandora’s soldiers? Of War was far more beautiful than the cow that was Of Love. “Just an hour ago, I got the papers.” Kassandora continued.

Kassandora stared at the papers that had been brought to her desk. She took a heavy sigh and looked over the new map of Arika. Kirinyaa had been given a fair amount of the Jungle, which was obviously her father’s work. Enough to be considered a clear winner in the negotiations, but not enough that it would antagonize the other Arikan nations. The Goddess of War stared at the map and smiled, if there was one man who would never forget to bring spare batteries, then it would be Arascus.

And Kassandora’s smile widened as she saw the documents underneath it. Fer forgetting batteries had actually been a blessing. It had taken her mind off the fact that she had refused to go spend time with Arascus in anticipation of the amount to be done. Well, the work had been done and she had been left to wallow in her thoughts. Not anymore though, it had truly been a good decision to stay. Arascus had sent her a document and a list of things to do: ‘You can take a break, we have all week for this.’

Kassandora rolled her eyes and smiled at that. Who did Arascus think she was? Take a break? She would take a break when she died.

And now what? Did they come to share a drink? To talk? Why would they even want to talk with her? She was the most miserable little Goddess to be around. She couldn’t joke around, she could only manipulate and exchange information. “So now, with the threat from the East, I have to think about order-keeping in the West!”

Kassandora scrambled over the papers in disappointment. It would have been difficult for others, but Arascus had already completed a fair share of the planning by himself. Where the army should generally be situated, the rules of engagement, the dealings with civilians and so on were all parts of rulership, so they were all parts of his demesne.

Kassandora was only here to handle the hyper-specifics. What equipment the men should be armed with, how that should be used, where the locations of military police stations should go. What would happen if the other Arikan nations invaded Ausa after it declared itself an Imperial Province, although that had about as much of a chance of happening as Neneria actually answering her phone. Of War sighed and ate another spoonful of honey to calm her nerves.

Kassandora started pouring herself another drink. Frankly, she was seething. She had not wanted to go, but likewise she hated that she didn’t go. She knew she wouldn’t enjoy it, she knew that was exactly why Arascus had not pushed her to go, she knew if she was there, she would be even angrier than she was right now. “Father and Elassa are having a fucking ball right now.”

Kassandora finished and looked through the window. A plane had arrived, large and sleek. Painted in white and black and red and with the Imperial Flag emblazoned over its sides and wings. The identification number decorated the tail and a small space under the cockpit. The Goddess of War rolled her eyes. It was bird DT-04: Divine-Transport Zero-Four. Assigned to Helenna and Malam for personal use and to transport the two lead propagandists wherever they needed to go.

Maybe someone else would need to go down and check, but Kassandora knew every DT code and who it was assigned off by heart. The bomber craft, the Raptors and the leaders of each of Falcon Squad, she knew too. Something small about the fact that she didn’t know every single code there was annoyed her, but even she had to admit that there was a limit to how farcical one could be. It simply wasn’t worth the effort to learn the rest of the codes when there was other work to be done, especially since new planes were rolling off the lines daily.

And yet, there was something that just annoyed her. Why didn’t she go? She didn’t like it here, she didn’t like it there. She just wanted to get away from it all and get back to work. “And I’m stuck here.”

Kassandora leaned back, kicked her shoes off and waited for Helenna and Malam to arrive. She wondered which one of the two had the idea. Most likely Malam, definitely Malam in fact. The Goddess of Hatred had the softest heart of them all. Kassandora wondered if Malam actually enjoyed her company or not. She herself wouldn’t enjoy her own company, that much was for certain.

Frankly, she couldn’t stand her own company, so she could only imagine how terrible she was to other people. There was a reason that the Goddess of War, for all her talent and intelligence, had never ruled a nation like the rest of them. Not even for a little while, it wasn’t that she couldn’t rule, rather which nation would actually accept her? What ministers would be able to deal with War’s relentless march towards total victory?

None. That was the answer. Not a single one.

Not until she had met Arascus. It still confused her how the man managed to put up with her. Kassandora smiled to herself. Her sisters as well. Fer was especially funny and Anassa was always a handful. Malam was Kassandora’s reflection, so naturally they got along. And Kavaa. Kavaa and Kassandora were grapes that had come from the same branch. Kassandora closed her eyes, smiled and heard the door open.

“Great,” Helenna scowled. “Another alcoholic.”

But the work was done now, so there was nothing to pull her back into that tunnel-visioned focus that discarded the rest of the world. Helenna had forced her out of those tunnels though, and with nothing else to do, the only hole Kassandora knew how to sink into was buried at the bottom of a bottle. “So don’t tell me whether I can or can’t have a fucking drink, alright?”

Malam sat down next to Kassandora. She had never respected personal space, but Kassandora wasn’t like one of her prickly sisters, she didn’t pull away. “Pour me one too.”

Kassandora had to do a double take at the Goddess of Hatred. “Why?”

“Do people like us need a reason to drink?”

Fer sniffed the air.

Someone was coming.