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Chapter 31 - Chapter 31: The Power of the Collective

Chapter 31: The Power of the Collective

 

Angela, having grasped some new insights, quickly selected the most obedient soldiers and formed them into a special squad.

 

The other soldiers found it odd but didn't understand the significance, continuing to perform their duties half-heartedly.

 

Some soldiers, catching on, quickly followed suit and tightened their discipline, eventually getting selected.

 

Sometimes, the difference in personal fate comes down to small choices.

 

Just like with Matthew and his former companions.

 

To undermine the Netheril Empire, Matthew and his companions had once conducted extensive investigations and preparations.

 

They quickly uncovered many systemic issues within the empire's structure.

 

The Seventon Council, representing the Seven Towers, the high arcanists, and the caster elite, prioritized their own interests.

 

The needs and interests of the empire's vast millions were ignored—or outright neglected.

 

The only path to upward mobility was becoming a spellcaster or having a family member who became one.

 

If a child showed potential, the empire would detect and nurture them, absorbing them into its system.

 

Yet most casters, due to their backgrounds, identity, talent, and resources, were destined to become assistants, followers, researchers, or even test subjects for higher arcanists.

 

The system of the Netheril Empire was inherently distorted.

 

The general populace had little loyalty, relying solely on the near-omnipotent power of the high arcanists to maintain order.

 

The aristocratic spellcasters, lords, and families existed solely to serve the arcanist organizations.

 

Their purpose was to gather resources and find children with potential to become future spellcasters.

 

They served the organizations.

 

They served the high arcanists.

 

They served the mighty floating cities.

 

That's why, despite the magical advancements of the Netheril Empire, the living conditions of the populace remained at a medieval level.

 

The betterment of the common people mattered little to the high arcanists.

 

Thus, the spellcasters didn't care either.

 

Matthew and his companions had realized back then that the Netheril Empire wasn't truly a nation but a vast population controlled by a spellcaster organization.

 

The only way to topple the current regime was to eliminate the high arcanists.

 

Now, Matthew sought to walk the same path—harnessing the power that the spellcasters had overlooked.

 

The power of countless mortals!

 

The power of other professionals!

 

The power of the collective!

 

"Charge! Break them!"

 

Old John led the way, charging forward with a wooden staff in hand.

 

Behind him, 20 soldiers rushed ahead, eager to engage their opponents.

 

They were bigger, wielded more mature weapons, and had more warriors in their ranks.

 

Confident of victory, they were determined to be the best of the five squads and earn the honor of receiving a salute from the others.

 

Across from them, Angela remained unmoved, calmly issuing orders:

 

"Shieldbearers forward, spearmen behind, hold your positions, keep the formation, advance!"

 

Though they hadn't fully synchronized yet, the soldiers Angela had chosen made a conscious effort to adjust their positions and maintain the formation.

 

As they advanced, their steps gradually unified, working together and showing signs of teamwork.

 

Old John refrained from directly engaging, stepping aside like Angela and shouting orders:

 

"Squad One, flank from the left! Squad Two, attack from the right! Squads Three and Four, hold the center!"

 

Angela remained calm, watching as the two distinctly different squads clashed.

 

The tips of the wooden staffs were marked with white chalk. A hit to the head or mask meant a soldier was out; two hits to the torso also eliminated a fighter, while strikes to the limbs didn't count.

 

At first, Squads Three and Four charged fiercely, aiming to push through the shieldbearers.

 

But the shieldbearers were also professionals—they couldn't be pushed back, and seven or eight staffs suddenly thrust out from behind the shields.

 

Though the staffs were deflected, they had given the attackers a scare.

 

Before the flanking squads could join in, the shieldbearers pressed forward, and their staffs stabbed out again.

 

Squad Three and Four's soldiers couldn't dodge in time and suffered heavy losses, retreating quickly.

 

As they fell back, their formation crumbled. The shieldbearers surged forward, stabbing in unison.

 

The disorganized soldiers had no choice but to retreat from the fight.

 

One warrior fended off two staff thrusts but realized that his teammates had been completely routed—he was soon overwhelmed, marked by white dots all over his body.

 

Squads One and Two intensified their attacks, but Angela's victorious squad swiftly adapted their formation.

 

The shieldbearers turned to face them, firmly holding the front line.

 

Outnumbered, Old John's squad was forced back by the disciplined formation.

 

Soon, they were pushed to the edge of the training field, unable to retreat further.

 

Completely defeated!

 

The defeated soldiers wore grim expressions—they couldn't comprehend how they had been unable to break through such a stiff and simple defense.

 

Matthew wasn't surprised by the result—Netheril's forces were heavily reliant on their arcanists.

 

Ordinary soldiers and troops were often just fodder to draw fire—decent in defense, but mediocre in open-field engagements.

 

Old John was equally perplexed, replaying the battle in his mind and sensing something was off.

 

In small-scale skirmishes, shouldn't individual strength be enough to break through formations? Wasn't shield-bearing too rigid?

 

The victorious soldiers from Angela's squad, still in disbelief, fought three more battles against the other squads. Despite sustaining some losses, they emerged victorious in each one.

 

Triumphant, they looked smugly at their defeated peers, already planning to show off after training.

 

The other soldiers, feeling humiliated, now understood the purpose of the seemingly rigid formation drills.

 

Seeing Angela's squad basking in their victory, the other soldiers felt a pang of regret and secretly vowed to train harder. In the next practice, they would get their revenge!

 

Soon, with calls echoing across the field, the training area grew even more lively.