The War to End All Wars (1)

It commenced with a light skirmish –

an assessment period preceding the main event, gauging whether complacency had truly set in during the decades-long interregnum.

Yet even the participants could not perceive this as a mere combat proficiency test.

“They are but humans, after all! Feeble flesh composed of blood and tissue!”

“Defend the homeland! Shall we allow our sacred soil to be further defiled by their tread? How could we face our heroic ancestors?”

The Demonic Tribe favored psychological warfare tactics – simplistic yet predictable ploys that nevertheless consistently achieved the intended effects, leaving their victims powerless despite foreknowledge. conflicts were intrinsically contests of numbers.

While variables like logistics, training quality, and armament levels existed, sheer numerical might decided outcomes when such differentials proved negligible.

Yet for the Demonic Tribe, inter-species disparities eclipsed individual variances within their ranks.

Humanity occasionally birthed transcendent outliers, but none could reliably stake their fortunes upon such aberrations.

“Their guns cannot instantly fell us!”

“Just like the previous war! But now, shooting them repeatedly should eventually kill them – so keep firing!!”

“How did our ancestors even battle such monstrosities…?”

“Kyaaaaaah!!”

Of course, the Demonic Tribe possessed inherent vulnerabilities.

Despite the tenuous unity enforced through indoctrination, occasional lapses into primal bloodlust prompted rogue actions and impulsive mob mentalities.

They predominantly relied on brute physicality to overcome such tactical and strategic shortcomings, deeming advanced maneuvers superfluous given their innate advantages.

For no matter how brilliant the grand strategy, someone would inevitably surveil and exploit it like browsing the morning newspaper. Introducing random variables might paradoxically prove more advantageous.

During these preliminary skirmishes, at least, such tactics appeared effective:

“What are our ammunition reserves?”

“You expect proper manufacturing? The rest must be procured by hand, evidently.”

“Ughaak! A misfire, I’m bleeding……”

While humans now wielded firearms,

And the era when such crude lead projectiles inflicted mere flesh wounds had given way to instantly fatal injuries,

“You comprehend now? For the moment, this remains manageable! They are but feeble humans.”

“Advance! You possess the greater might!”

For now, at least, they could persevere.

Projecting two decades – nay, even a decade – hence would invite skepticism. Yet they could still meaningfully leverage their inherent advantages.

Which necessitated humanity’s extermination.

While the Demonic Tribe’s absolute supremacy would not endure indefinitely, its unequivocal termination had not yet arrived.

How long until the next Dark Lord’s emergence? Five years in the shortest case, perhaps decades in the extreme.

Regardless of that duration, should another war transpire, they could no longer anticipate the token resistance presently encountered.

This epiphany unhinged the Demons’ psyches as they directly witnessed humanity’s potential firsthand.

And just as human combat prowess peaks during adolescence, the Demonic Tribe followed suit.

Witnessing this real-time “power-up” akin to shounen manga protagonists, the soldiers faltered in disarray.

“The resistance is too formidable!”

“Like demon-possessed fiends……”

“We cannot endure much longer! A decisive stratagem is required promptly!”

They had foreseen this war, known its timing.

Hence, preparations were feasible, but outright victory remained unassured – despite the precognitive cheat of future knowledge.

“Retreat! Fall back!”

“But we can still fight–”

“Then be surrounded like imbeciles and perish!”

Even now, entire squads crumpled like bowling pins before individual Demonic gestures.

It swiftly became apparent that delayed retreats would render even the fallen unsalvageable.

“No, we shall not yield an inch!”

“Sir…?”

“Doing so will only result in our encirclement!”

“We cannot permit these vermin to defile our sacred homeland by even a single pace! If words fail to inspire, then let your vital essences blaze forth! Glory to the homeland!!”

And some remained oblivious to the shifting tides, destined to be swept away by the currents of progress.

Ultimately, the first night’s combat concluded in a sobering human victory.

Yet having premised a strategic withdrawal, they could at least derive solace from departing with their forces largely intact.

---

News of the war’s commencement finally arrived.

Closely followed by reports of the Belfast Army’s resounding defeat, rippling from Antrim to Londinium with a slight delay.

Bureaucrats scurried to rouse key figures in the dead of night, nearly half already impeccably attired in anticipation of the inevitable.

“I warned that this would transpire! Didn’t I?!”

“We are aware, so cease your incessant reminders, unless you wish to exacerbate this pounding headache into full-blown madness.”

“This is not a venue for asserting egos or apportioning blame. The pertinent question is our recourse.”

“Why, is it not apparent to all…?”

“Ah, yes. Indeed.”

The councilors exchanged furtive glances, as if deferring to an absent authority figure.

Excepting those yet to solidify their positions, the willfully naive, the excessively cynical, or the stubbornly intractable beyond cooptation –

Most with tangible authority comprehended the necessary next steps.

“What of our military preparedness?”

“Fully prepared. With rail transport secured, reinforcements can swiftly deploy to Belfast upon request.”

“Then we shall summon the Academy members.”

“Messengers have already been dispatched. They should arrive momentarily.”

The requisite elements for technological development were threefold: talent, will, and time.

The armaments corporations lacked talent, for the intellectually gifted inevitably gravitated towards the more lucrative Martops.

Most Martops lacked incentives for weapons development – an obsolete industry, so why bother investing?

While some fledgling enterprises proclaimed their readiness, they predominantly represented final attempts to evade conscription.

Presently, only one collective within the kingdom satisfied all criteria:

The self-styled “Grand Spectacular Armaments Enthusiasts Club” – an admittedly whimsical moniker.

The Academy harbored an overabundance of the scarcest resource – talent.

Time may have been limited, but their collective obsessions more than compensated for such deficits.

And motivation was self-evident:

“Bigger weapons! Even bigger weapons! The largest, most powerful ordnance imaginable!”

“Yet is there truly a need to develop such armaments?”

“Need? We merely pursue what is feasible.”

There had been underlying rationales for conjuring these notions before formally commissioning fresh weapons production.

“Why summon the Academy members?”

“Have not our armaments, munitions, and even transport derived from their innovations thus far? And will not the anti-Demonic weaponry of the future emerge from their endeavors?”

“Production remains the factories’ purview, so such matters are best entrusted to the experts.”

“Besides, some had already commenced preliminary research efforts. No need to reinvent that particular wheel.”

“Those who have calibrated to the same wavelengths shall function most cohesively. Undue external intervention would only undermine efficiency, indeed.”

How inefficient would it be to disband an already established study group preemptively researching these technologies, only to reconstitute a new task force? Retaining the existing personnel proved far more expedient.

Of course, as public servants, the members received little personal remuneration beyond research grants and lecture fees, rendering them quasi-civilians.

Yet bearing the “Royal” designation precluded complete dissociation from the government.

Hence, bestowing excessive authority required prudence to avoid establishing undesirable precedents.

But those already delegated power evidently disagreed:

“We should appoint them to new official capacities.”

“Have you considered appropriate titles?”

“Let us simply replace ‘club’ with ‘department’ in their existing designation.”

“That sounds rather uncouth. ‘Defense Research Division’ would be preferable.”

Mere superficial rebranding for some, yet an official governmental appointment nonetheless – resolving the issue.

“Edan, Head of the Defense Research Division.”

The appointee had already been determined.

He had effectively spearheaded the collective, his Ceres Martop backers had already deeply entrenched themselves in the kingdom’s armaments sector, and he maintained an unusually close association with Baron Norton, who virtually monopolized the remaining military industries.

No better candidate existed.

When the summons arrived, Edan feigned surprise with an exaggerated start, thrice declining before acquiescing with feigned reluctance on the third insistence – a perfectly choreographed sequence, as if predetermined.

While merely a nominal authority for some, Edan had no intentions of squandering this hard-won opportunity.