"My lord, the entirety of this vault is yours to take."
Howard spoke with fervent devotion, his words imbued with reverence. Moments earlier, he had employed the spiritual vision technique taught by Nimrod, a rudimentary yet profound skill that unveiled the extraordinary might of Beyonders.
This spiritual vision allowed him to discern the emotions of those he conversed with, a practical tool for a noble, enabling him to secure maximum advantage in negotiations and diplomatic exchanges.
"No need. First, fulfill your role as an Arbites with diligence."
Nimrod perceived Howard's yearning for greater power, and with a measured tone, he issued a caution to the golden-haired noble, tempering his ambition.
"Deliver the items I have selected to the palace."
Without a moment's pause, Nimrod indicated twelve varieties of potion materials, totaling nineteen items, including the Siren's Stone he had previously noted.
Additionally, he selected eleven non-potion materials, intermingling them with the others to obscure his intent.
"My lord, I shall dispatch agents forthwith to deliver them to your palace."
En route back to the palace, Nimrod transmitted a vox-message to Rawlslev, summoning him for a briefing.
Upon returning to the palace, Nimrod immediately set about organizing the potion materials he had acquired. He had amassed the components necessary to concoct both a "Sailor" potion and an additional "Warrior" potion.
However, the "Witch" potion remained incomplete, lacking a primary ingredient known as the Thousand-Foot Serpent—a misnomer for a mutated, venomous centipede, capable of growing up to two meters long, which prowled the Underhive's depths.
With no suitable candidate for the "Witch" potion, Nimrod saw no urgency in its preparation.
Thereafter, he received Rawlslev for the briefing.
Rawlslev, conducting his first formal report, betrayed a trace of nervousness, drawing a deep breath to steady himself before speaking.
"My king, in the assault on the spire, the subsequent defensive engagements, and the purge of rebels, our brethren suffered two hundred and fourteen fatalities."
"Presently, one thousand and fifty-three remain fit for combat. The majority are engaged in reconstructing the spire's defenses, with three hundred and seventy assigned to guard your fifty-eight manufactories."
"Additionally, one hundred and six wounded survived, though each bears some form of impairment."
Rawlslev, consulting his data-slate, completed the first segment of his casualty report with precision.
As he compiled these figures, the stark numbers crystallized the magnitude of their triumph.
A mere two hundred and fourteen lost to seize an entire hive—this was a victory of mythic proportions, a feat only Nimrod could have wrought, worthy of the epics sung in the sagas of the Old Night.
"I shall compensate Tech-Priest Rosicky to outfit them with augmetic replacements."
"Thereafter, consult their wishes: whether they desire to continue serving in the First Vostonian Regiment or to select a residence among the Upper Hive dwellings of the vanquished houses."
"As you command, my king."
Rawlslev assented, a flicker of longing in his eyes, which sharpened as Nimrod issued his next decree.
"You shall serve as the regiment's commander."
Nimrod recalled the organizational structure of the future Astra Militarum: ten soldiers formed a squad, led by a sergeant; two to five squads comprised a platoon, led by a platoon commander; two to six platoons formed a company, led by a company commander; and five to ten companies constituted a regiment, led by a regimental commander.
Adapting to current circumstances, he declared, "Ten soldiers form a squad, led by a sergeant. Five squads form a platoon; five platoons form a company; ten companies form a regiment."
"Recruit from the Upper Hive to fill the vacancies. Upon completion, you shall assume the mantle of regimental commander."
Rawlslev struggled to keep pace with Nimrod's rapid dictation, scribbling the regiment's structure with shorthand, substituting unfamiliar terms with letters only he could decipher.
When he heard his appointment as commander, his hand slipped, scrolling the data-slate to the next page.
"Beyond forming the regiment, you shall oversee the replacement and training of soldiers in the use of weaponry, ensuring optimal fireteam coordination."
Rawlslev regained his focus, finding this task well-suited to his "Warrior" Beyonder abilities, presenting no undue challenge.
"For training regimens, consult House Finder's guard captain, adapting as necessary."
Nimrod, contemplating the conquest of the Sea Canticle and recognizing that the "Sailor" potion's full potential was realized in oceanic environments, continued his instructions.
"Additionally, incorporate swimming drills. Seek the Water Guild's cooperation to facilitate this training."
"Your regiment will, in time, wage war upon an oceanic world—this is the purpose of these exercises."
"Observe your regiment closely, identifying those who excel. I intend to evaluate them in forthcoming battles."
Those who consumed the "Sailor" potion would gain the Beyonder ability of "Aquatic Adaptation." Prior swimming proficiency was irrelevant; potential and loyalty were paramount.
"As you command, my king."
Rawlslev meticulously recorded each directive before resuming his report.
"The workers of Hanliman's dome have ascended to the dome, taking up positions in the manufactories. Under the guidance of veteran laborers, they are diligently learning to operate complex machinery."
"The factory overseers, collaterals of House Boleslav, have been executed. The foremen of each labor cohort, upon learning of your endorsement by Sage Kaminsky, have pledged their service to you."
"All manufactories have resumed operations and are projected to reach full capacity within three work cycles."
Nimrod nodded slightly, a gesture of approval, before posing a critical question.
"Among our ranks, are there any technicians capable of analyzing a Standard Template Construct fragment?"
"My king, in the Underhive, knowing a hundred words marks one a scholar. Our handling of weapons relies on experience, not study."
"Men like Bukayo are Upper Hive fugitives. True technical expertise resides with the nobles' retainers—such talent never trickles to the Underhive."
"Add literacy to your training regimen. Consult Howard for implementation."
Rawlslev, visibly deflated, responded with a weary, "As you command…"
Catching a subtle shift in Nimrod's expression, he rallied, his voice firm.
"As you command, my king!"
"Go."
As Rawlslev departed, Nimrod lapsed into contemplation.
[Even an STC fragment cannot be utilized immediately.
I require a technical adept. If none can be found, I must cultivate one. The "Savant" potion still lacks two ingredients.
Beyond a technician, I need administrators for internal governance. The nobles likely harbor capable candidates, scheming to secure such posts.]
After a brief respite, during the Hour of Baenys, Nimrod met with Rosicky.
The young Tech-Priest's face, sharply contoured yet retaining vestiges of humanity, reflected a disciplined restraint, heeding prior counsel to curb his curiosity about Nimrod's physiology.
"King Nimrod, Rosicky offers his salutations."
His lower pair of augmetic limbs cradled a data-slate as he inquired.
"What manner of weapon do you desire?"
With his "Barbarian" potion digestion over halfway complete, and anticipating the need to breach fortified spires, Nimrod opted for a heavy weapon suited to his role.
"A power halberd."
"I require the weapon and armor expeditiously, ideally within eight work cycles."
As transitional gear, Nimrod prioritized speed over intricate specifications.
"I shall endeavor to comply, but your cooperation is needed to finalize technical parameters. What ratio of weapon size to your stature?"
Rosicky's meticulousness persisted as he pressed Nimrod for further details.
During the Curian Hour, Nimrod sat upon a metallic throne, forged by Hanliman dome artisans, addressing administrative duties.
[Hive Garrison Reconstruction Plan]
In the conquest of the hive, the garrison forces that opposed Nimrod were nearly annihilated, reduced to one in ten.
His followers, stretched thin guarding the spire and manufactories, were insufficient. Presently, House Finder's guards temporarily assumed garrison duties, an unsustainable arrangement.
The report before Nimrod, submitted by House Finder's guard captain after consulting surviving garrison members, proposed a conventional plan: recruiting new members and training them under veteran survivors. Yet, this approach demanded excessive time.
At that moment, his vox-comm chimed.
"My king, Countess Lysara of House Kovalenko requests an audience."
"Admit her."