Training the Anoxe Clan

It has been a few weeks since Yorlee surrendered the capital to me. He now spends most of his time assisting Emo as his personal assistant and training the military fighting force. I estimate that we will have around 300k soldiers once the training is complete. The process of turning hunters and gatherers into a proper war-fighting force is slow-going. Emo's help has proven to be invaluable, with suggestions for a temporary restructuring of our forces to focus on training. We have temporarily moved my trusted Guardsmen into leadership roles to assist in the training of the new soldiers. Emo has also suggested adding additional training once they have grasped the basics, to improve their proficiency within their designated areas of operation. These suggestions have already improved and will continue to enhance the lethality of our fighting forces.

The forges stay lit night and day, continuously producing armor and weapons. The quality of these weapons and armor has vastly improved due to the advanced knowledge of metallurgy bestowed upon me by the Anunnaki. The mere thought of them fills me with rage, and I am determined to utilize every bit of information they provided to exact my revenge upon them. The next resource I need is oil to produce more complex machines to speed up the facilitation of producing armor and weapons for my men. This resource is going to be the starting point for our advanced soldiers but must first concentrate on obtaining the Ophidian Clan's land and assimilating as many of their people into our war machine as possible. First we must make a proper military force from these people. 

Yorlee takes a second to to look over the capitol that he once governed. The once bustling city of the Anoxe Clan is now a fortress foundry. The streets turned into training grounds, forges burning night and day, smoke blackening the skies. His once starving people now wear Diyu's mark, food is no longer a currency, it is faith. "The city breathes iron now," Yorlee murmurs to Emo as they watch recruits drill in perfect unison. 'It has forgotten what it means to be hungry."

"But it now knows a united purpose and discipline" Emo adds. "Come, back to training the men. Lets split up I will take Melee weapons training and Yorlee, I want you to use your strengths and knowledge of the forges to teach the men how to run it. Diyu wants to keep them running night and day to be ready for marching orders."

"I will make sure they not only know how to run the forges, but can fix our crude engines that help keep them stoked and hammers pounding. I will also look for intelligent workers to encourage new weapons!' Yorlee proudly proclaims. 

Days bled into night. The drills continued without pause without pause. Diyu Demanded perfection. Soldiers rose before dawn, marched until dusk, then were sent to the forges to labor as machinists and engineers. Flesh learned to obey metal; minds learned to submit to rhythm.

When one recruit collapsed from exhaustion, emo moved to intervene.

"He needs rest," he said

Diyu's voice cut through the air. 

"He needs purpose."

Diyu's descended from the balcony, each step ringing like a hammer against an anvil. He knelt beside the fallen kreegan, place a cold hand upon his chest, and whispered words in a language none had ever heard. The soldier convulsed, screaming, eyes wide as viens blackened with streaks of molten light. He rose to his feet trembling, alive, and unbroken. 

Diyu Stood. "The machine mends what is eak. Let this be your lesson."

The ranks stood in silence, fear thick as oil. Emo looked to Yorlee, but the former lord only bowed his head.

"he feeds them," Yorlee murmured. "If it costs him his soul, so be it."

Weeks passed. the forges grew louder. New weapons rolled from the smoke, Crude rifles, metal chariots powered by crude oil, the first walking machines with piston limbs and furnace hearts. Diyu named them Harbingers.

A council was called in the grand hall. Diyu stood before his generals and their assistants, light from the molten crucibles framing him like a black halo. 

"The Kregan will no longer beg the stars for mercy," he said, voice echoing like the roar of the engines. "flesh is frail. Faith burns out. But the machine, the machine endures."

He raised his hand and clenched a fist. The lights dimmed. Outside, the city's forges ignited at once a sea of orange fire. 

"From this day, we are not a tribe. We are not a clan. We are the War Machine! The Kreegan who falter will be reforged. The Kreegan who resist will be fuel."

The crowd roared, a thousand voices chanting chanting his name, their echoes swallowed by the sound of engines awakening. 

later, in the quiet of his private chamber, Emo confronted him.

"You're losing them," Emo said. "They don't follow a leader anymore, they worship a god. A god of smoke and iron."

Diyu turned, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

"Then let them worship. Gods build empires were kings only dream of them."

Emo's jaw tightened.

"And when the god demands sacrifice?"

Diyu stepped closer, so close the faint hum of his core filled the silence.

"then the faithful will burn willingly."

When dawn came, Diyu stood before his army. Three hundred thousand strong trained, armed, and hungry for purpose. The banner of Anoxe clan now bore a different symbol. A steel gear with a serpent eye in the middle. 

The drums thundered. The ground quaked. Diyu raised his arm, and the sun broke through the smoke long enough to glint against his armor. 

"The stars have abandoned us!" he called. "The Anunnaki turned their backs on us! but we endure! The blood of this world will fuel our ascension. The War Machine does not stop. It does not weep. it does not die."

A deafening roar answered him. The War Machine marched west, into the mists of the Ophidian swamps their boots striking in perfect rhythm, the sound of an empire being born. 

Above the roar, unseen by any mortal eye, a shadow laughed.