The stale air of Karshelm Fortress, thick with the scent of damp stone and a pervasive weariness, seemed to hum with anticipation. Kaelen felt it not just in the environment, but in the subtle shift of gazes towards him as he walked through the barracks. The word had spread quickly about his unexpected tactical prowess during the orc breach, and the even stranger tale of the "second Private Finn" who had supposedly appeared from the rubble. Whispers followed him, but they were no longer just whispers of suspicion. Now, there was a grudging respect, and a nascent curiosity.
His replicated Private Finn walked a step behind him, a loyal shadow. Original Finn, though still bewildered, had been assigned to a safer, less visible guard duty inside the Inner Keep by Kaelen's subtle maneuvering, preventing any immediate awkward confrontations. Kaelen had explained it as wanting to "maximize Finn's unique skills in quieter sectors," a line Captain Theron had surprisingly accepted, perhaps too busy with the pressing war effort to delve into the finer points of conscript assignments. This small act of manipulation, designed to keep his growing secret safe, felt like a chess move in a grander game, a game he was slowly beginning to understand.
That morning, Kaelen found Sergeant Rhys in the mess hall, hunched over a bowl of thin porridge, his face still etched with the fatigue of constant vigilance. The invitation to Captain Theron's briefing on the Orc supply depot infiltration had arrived, and Kaelen felt the familiar hum of purpose that now defined his existence.
"Sergeant," Kaelen greeted, sliding onto the bench opposite Rhys. "Captain Theron's briefing, a few hours from now. Are you ready?"
Rhys grunted, pushing his bowl aside. "As ready as I'll ever be, lad. Been on enough of these 'recon' runs to know they're just a polite way of saying 'suicide mission'." He looked Kaelen over, a glint in his eye. "But with you tagging along, maybe it'll be different. You got a knack for getting us out of tight spots."
Kaelen merely smiled, a genuine warmth radiating from him that belied the calculating mind beneath. "We'll make sure it's different, Sergeant. We'll make it a success."
The briefing room was small and dim, lit by flickering lanterns. Captain Theron stood before a crudely drawn map, his usual stern expression amplified by the strategic gravity of the situation. Alongside him stood Lieutenant Volkov, a wiry, no-nonsense officer known for his scouting abilities, and Commander Valerius, a burly, grizzled veteran whose face was a roadmap of ancient scars.
"Gentlemen," Theron began, his voice low and serious. "The Orcish war machine is grinding relentlessly. Our scouts have confirmed a new, heavily fortified supply depot approximately two days' march north, beyond the Watchtower of Vorlag. This depot is vital to their current offensive. Our mission: infiltrate, gather intelligence on their numbers and provisions, and if possible, sabotage their stores. Casualties are to be minimized, but intelligence is paramount."
Kaelen listened intently, absorbing every detail. His mind was already sketching out routes, identifying choke points, visualizing potential ambushes. He saw the flaws in the Orc defenses, the predictable patterns of their patrols, almost as if he were looking at the battlefield from above.
"The approach," Lieutenant Volkov pointed with a gnarled finger, "is through the Whispering Woods. Dense, treacherous, but offers excellent cover. The depot itself is built into a natural rock formation, heavily guarded."
Kaelen raised a hand. "Captain, if I may. The Whispering Woods, while dense, is known for its shifting mists. If we use the mists to our advantage, rather than just cover, we could approach from the less guarded eastern flank, where the natural caves meet the Orc fortifications. Their sentries tend to focus on the more open, western approach."
Theron paused, his gaze sharp on Kaelen. Commander Valerius grunted, "Eastern flank? That's madness, conscript. The caves are rumored to be infested with cave-dwellers, worse than Orcs."
"A calculated risk, Commander," Kaelen replied smoothly, his logic unwavering. "The Orcs expect us from the west. Surprise is our greatest weapon. And a small, agile team can navigate the caves more safely than a full company, especially with proper scouting." He gestured towards Lieutenant Volkov. "With the Lieutenant's expertise, we could map a safe passage."
A silence hung in the room. Theron studied Kaelen, a flicker of something akin to grudging respect in his eyes. "Risky, but… intriguing. Volkov, can your scouts verify a passage through the eastern caves?"
"It would take time, Captain," Volkov admitted, "but it's feasible."
"Then do it," Theron decided, his voice firm. "Kaelen, you've offered a bold strategy. You will lead the main infiltration team. Volkov, you will lead the advance scouts. Commander Valerius, you will command the diversionary force from the west."
Kaelen nodded, a quiet thrill running through him. This wasn't just a mission; it was an opportunity to prove his strategic genius beyond a shadow of a doubt. And, more importantly, it was the perfect stage for his next act of replication.
The mission preparation was intense. Kaelen hand-picked his small infiltration squad: Sergeant Rhys, two other reliable veterans, and, subtly, his replicated Private Finn. The twin's silent presence would be invaluable for discreet tasks and maintaining cohesion without question. He observed his chosen men, looking for not just skill, but resilience. He wasn't just building an army; he was cultivating its core, selecting the most promising individuals to become eternal parts of his Legion.
Two days later, under the cloak of a pre-dawn mist that clung to the Whispering Woods like a shroud, Kaelen's infiltration team moved like ghosts. Lieutenant Volkov's scouts had indeed found a navigable, if tight, passage through the eastern caves, avoiding the most dangerous sections. The air in the caves was cool and damp, the silence broken only by their soft footsteps and the drip of water.
Kaelen led the way, his instincts guiding him through the labyrinthine tunnels. He moved with a quiet confidence that inspired trust in his men. Rhys, ever the pragmatic soldier, watched Kaelen with a renewed sense of wonder. The conscript who had appeared from nowhere was now navigating ancient, dangerous tunnels with the ease of a seasoned pathfinder. Replicated Finn moved behind Kaelen, a perfect extension, anticipating his movements, silently signaling directions to the others.
They emerged from the caves to find themselves exactly where Kaelen had predicted: on the less-guarded eastern flank of the Orc depot. Below them, a crude but massive camp sprawled, filled with supply tents and the grunting sounds of Orcs. The air hung heavy with the smell of stale meat and unwashed bodies.
"Just like you said, Kaelen," Rhys whispered, his eyes wide. "Barely a sentry in sight on this side."
"Stay low," Kaelen murmured, his eyes scanning the perimeter. "We move like shadows. Two of you, with Rhys, gather intelligence on the south side. Replicated Finn, you're with me. We'll head straight for the main supply stores. If you see an opportunity, sabotage it discreetly, no large fires." He emphasized the last part, wanting minimal explosions to avoid drawing immediate attention.
The infiltration was textbook. Kaelen and Replicated Finn moved with chilling efficiency, slipping past patrols, their movements fluid and noiseless. Kaelen's mind, free from personal anxieties, was a pure strategic engine. He found caches of weapons, maps outlining Orc movements, and staggering stockpiles of provisions. Replicated Finn, moving like Kaelen's very thought, silently tampered with vital supply crates, ensuring slow spoilage rather than immediate destruction—a more insidious form of sabotage.
Meanwhile, Rhys's team gathered their own intelligence on the other side of the camp, equally successful. The diversionary force led by Commander Valerius had engaged the Orcs from the west, creating the perfect cover.
As they began their retreat, a sudden alarm blared through the camp. An Orc sentry, perhaps spotting a stray shadow, had raised the alarm. Chaos erupted. Kaelen's team dashed back towards the cave entrance, Orcs pouring out of their barracks, axes raised.
"Hold the rear!" Rhys roared, turning to face the oncoming horde, protecting their escape route. The other two veterans joined him, their backs to the cave mouth.
Kaelen didn't hesitate. "Replicated Finn, cover Rhys! Maintain a tight formation!" He joined the rear guard, his sword a blur. He fought with a detached ferocity, his every move economical, aimed at disabling or diverting, rather than engaging in prolonged duels. He was not there to fight a war, but to win a skirmish and secure an objective. He saw Rhys take a glancing blow to the arm, a deep gash, but the sergeant stood firm, a true soldier.
They fought their way back into the caves, just as the main body of Orcs reached their position. The alarm would bring more, but they were in. Kaelen sealed the entrance behind them with a cleverly collapsed rockslide, bought time by Replicated Finn's quick thinking.
They made it back to Karshelm in the dead of night, exhausted but triumphant. The intelligence they brought was invaluable, detailing the Orcs' full strength, their siege equipment, and their dwindling morale. Captain Theron, upon receiving the reports, permitted himself a rare, almost imperceptible nod of approval.
"Excellent work, Kaelen," Theron stated, his voice devoid of his usual suspicion, replaced by a quiet respect. "Your strategy was bold, and your execution flawless. This intelligence will turn the tide of the next assault."
As the other soldiers dispersed, leaving Kaelen alone with Rhys and the two Finns in a quiet corner of the barracks, Kaelen felt the familiar chime of the System.
[Mission Objectives Complete: Infiltrate Orc Supply Depot, Gather Vital Intelligence, Sabotage Supplies.]
[1 Duplication Token Gained.]
[You have 2 Duplication Tokens. Choose a living soldier to Replicate.]
Kaelen's gaze fell on Sergeant Rhys, who sat on a nearby bench, his injured arm throbbing, but his face alight with the satisfaction of a mission well done. Rhys was a rock, a pillar of experience, and fiercely loyal to his men. He was exactly what Kaelen needed.
"Rhys," Kaelen said, his voice soft. "Your arm needs tending. Come with me, I know a healer who's quieter."
Rhys, too tired to question, simply nodded. As they walked towards a secluded corner of the infirmary, Kaelen made sure the replicated Private Finn was discreetly watching the entrance, ensuring their privacy.
Once alone, Kaelen looked at Rhys, the choice already made. He had observed the sergeant, fought alongside him, and knew his value.
[Replicate Sergeant Rhys? This will consume 1 Duplication Token.]
Confirm.
A warm, golden light enveloped Sergeant Rhys, a flash too quick and subtle to be noticed by anyone beyond the immediate vicinity. For a second, the room seemed to shimmer, and then, standing beside the original Rhys, was another, identical Sergeant Rhys. His face, usually gruff, was now etched with a profound, absolute loyalty, his eyes fixed solely on Kaelen.
Original Rhys, rubbing his bandaged arm, blinked. "What in the…?" he began, staring at his exact duplicate.
"Reinforcements, Sergeant," Kaelen said with a calm, reassuring smile, stepping between them. "Just in time for the next push." The lie was getting easier now, the explanation simpler. In the chaos of Karshelm, strange things were quickly dismissed.
He had two tokens, and he had used one to gain a pivotal piece for his hidden army. Now, Kaelen had two loyal, skilled copies at his command: a scout and a veteran sergeant. A private and a leader. The first two bricks in his Legion.
As Rhys and his duplicate stared at each other in bewildered silence, Kaelen felt a powerful surge of satisfaction. His influence within Karshelm Fortress was growing, slowly, steadily, like an unstoppable tide. He had proven his strategic worth, gained Captain Theron's cautious approval, and, more importantly, doubled his loyal force.
The fortress might be humanity's last stand, but for Kaelen, it was becoming something else entirely: his personal forge. He still had one duplication token left. And he already had a very clear idea of the kind of soldier he wanted to add to his growing Legion next, one that would solidify his command. The war outside was relentless, but the true battles for Kaelen were just beginning, right here, within these ancient walls.