Kapitel 147: The Stator Rebellions End.
"Stators Rebellion ended any talk of exploiting the game's systems to start a kingdom."
"200,000 players attacked just one army of a kingdom, outnumbering them nearly 2-1, even being able to surprise them."
"But despite all of this they still lost."
"They lost."
"And people finally realised the NPCs of DO were not ordinary."
"Something any smart player would realise."
"But it had far-reaching consequences."
"As combined with the information given to them by the system."
"It finally made the NPCs aware of the danger."
"The danger of the 'Gods Favoured."
"Who can betray them for no rhyme or reason."
Lee Smith, CEO of Emart and head of House Erendis.
….
"Lethal Legion, kill the traitors!"
"Fire!"
The Black Death's command was met with a thunderous volley of ten thousand arrows, each a deadly missile. The players, caught off guard and lacking a cohesive formation, were mowed down by the goblin archers like wheat before a scythe. Their bodies slumped to the ground, filled with arrow shafts and expressions of pain.
The tide of battle changed in an instant as another force suddenly appeared on the player's flank, trapping them between what seemed to be a hammer and an anvil, riding a large black direwolf; the Black Death's shadowy figure was illuminated by torchlight, his eyes glinting with cruelty, as another shieldwall was placed in front of his archers who continued to shoot storms of arrows at the players who died one after the other seemingly having no defence against the incoming missiles.
It did not take long for the veteran NPC goblin soldiers to gather as soon as they heard the warning bell and horn. In fact, by the time The Black Death managed to find some soldiers not poisoned by the rebels, most had already assembled and were waiting for orders, allowing him to quickly form a small force of 20,000 men that he led towards the armoury knowing that Kriggeelx was there with his personal soldiers and few elites to hold it against a potential enemy while the black-skinned goblin general investigated the sudden poison epidemic that appeared far to coincidently with the attack by the traitors for it not to have been planned. Having to move quickly in the past to avoid their enemy's scouts, these elite soldiers experienced in The Black Deaths art of war were used to gathering up their equipment quickly if they needed to abandon a camp so that they were not found and ambushed by their enemies.
After all, their camping equipment could always be retrieved later, but their lives were something that could not be given back once they were lost.
Stator gritted his teeth in rage as he watched as more and more players were cut down by the arrows that streamed like a river, washing his men away to the underworld. The streamer did not expect The Black Death or the goblins to react so quickly, and he cursed the crimson goblin vice general, who was now down to 5,000 men, for delaying them.
Most of Stator's men had no real equipment or armour, meaning that compared to armoured soldiers who could potentially survive an arrow or two, his men could not. Just one arrow could be fatal because they had no shields or magical abilities to defend themselves from the onslaught of missiles raining down upon them.
Even the men he sent to ambush other parts of the camp, many of whom were players who had infiltrated the goblin army by joining the army, were quickly killed after killing one or two goblins as they were far more alert than before. So apart from a few of their close friends and the members of the upper echelons of the army whom they knew to be loyal to the kingdom, they trusted no one.
The NPCS also stuck together more, making it harder to find small groups to pick off one by one. As soon as one goblin was killed, the NPCs would quickly work together and kill their inexperienced attackers, who relied more on surprise than their skill at arms to win.
As a result, while these attacks did kill a few more thousand NPCs, they were unable to take out enough to give the players an edge, as there were over 100,000 NPC soldiers. Even if they managed to take out half of the army in a surprise attack, as long as The Black Death and his men could hold important locations like the armoury, the players' cause would be lost as they were no match to the well-equipped elite soldiers of the army if one of them could kill five or even 10 of them.
The few players who did have active skills to help them out only found them working on the newer recruits well, and like Railius, when he faced the mercenaries, they found them less effective on more experienced soldiers and fighters. When added to the significant mana cost for the activation of these skills, even players with active skills to help them quickly found themselves outmatched and cut down by the much more skilled NPC soldiers once their mana ran out, for they were not the only ones with active skills to help them.
Unlike other VRMMORPGs, DO did not have anything resembling the traditional boss, a monster with a large amount of health and fixed attack patterns that could be studied, or a minion or low-level monster that players could kill and farm at will for experience items and in-game money.
Instead, each NPC, from the noblest and most powerful emperor to the lowest servant, was capable of great things, being able to master powerful active skills that can save their lives and potentially becoming grandmasters even if their chances were far lower than those with both the talent and resources to awaken their dormant abilities.
This meant that while every NPC, even a grandmaster, could be killed with a sword or a surprise attack, these soldiers each had their own skills they could use to defend themselves against players. This breaking of conventional VRMMORPG rules led to NPC soldiers once discounted by players as lowly pieces of code playing active roles in the success or failure of a mission or rebellion.
Throughout history, support from the military has been required to successfully coup a government. Not only did the nobles monopolise education and information, preventing people from working together effectively, but they also had armies of well-equipped soldiers loyal to them to crush any opposition to their rule.
One look at the current situation is a perfect example of this, where an army of nearly 25,000 properly disciplined and trained soldiers was able to work together to hold off hundreds of thousands of rebels.
Like how the 300 Spartans, alongside other Greek allies, were able to hold off many tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of soldiers, now these elite goblin soldiers were holding back these rebels.
If the players had access to any kind of artillery or heavy cavalry, it might be possible to break up the tight goblin phalanx-like formation that stood stoutly before the armoury, blocking anyone from entering, but they did not and now worse, they were being flanked by another set of elite soldiers led by The Black Death himself who already had sent four volleys of arrows that decimated their forces, and the morale of the players began to waver as they tried in vain to protect themselves from the iron-tipped shafts that cut through their cloth clothing easily killing them in droves.
Any remaining player soldiers who originated from within the army were a bit luckier, but just like armour in real life, it only allowed them to take a few more shots and hits than unarmoured opponents. This prevented them from usually being one-shot killed unless they were facing an enemy of the master rank or higher whose precision and damage bonus helped them break through all but the toughest of armour like a knife through butter.
The crude iron armour worn by the player soldiers would stand no chance against the skill and damage dealt by a master fighter who could kill hundreds of men alone.
Stator had seen this firsthand as that crimson-skinned goblin vice general easily killed player after player like clockwork. Already, 200 had fallen to his blade as he effortlessly killed them and even had time to help others, not seeming to be even the slightest bit tired despite the rain, something that could not be said about his players. This was a royal pain in the backside for the ambitious player who dreamed of being a king, and he could only watch on helplessly as the battle progressed without him being able to do much.
Unlike the Oovere archers, who dealt massive damage to their enemies, the player archers could only be said to be pitiful. The week or so of training did little to improve their aim by much, and they were far behind the goblins, who had years of experience under their belts. A few of the players were ex-members of the military and did slightly better thanks to their military training; however, archery was different from using a gun or a drone and even with this, it only made them slightly better than the regular players, so not only were their arrows wildly inaccurate but those that did hit just found themselves lodged into the shieldwall with only a few managing to injure an NPC few goblins soldiers who just shrugged the wound off having suffered many through their many years of service.
As the fighting continued and more and more NPC goblins joined the fray, the once clear, starry night sky turned cloudy, and lighting crackled as if the old Norse god Thor was striking his hammer, showing his anger towards the battle and was unleashing his wrath upon the instigator. The rain that followed fell in rivers beating down on the combatants and the green canopy of foliage that protected them from the elements where the strong ancient trees that had lived for thousands of years above them as water dripped through to soak into the armour and clothes of battles participants.
Riding silently through the night like a ninja around the backs of the players, the crackling thunder and rain helping to disguise the growls of their mounts, Vice General Tor Minitar rode his dark brown wolf. The wolf's red eyes flashed menacingly at its prey, and drool dripped from its gaping jaw to reveal razor-sharp teeth as the beast snarled at what would be its next meal.
When the alarm sounded, Tor Minitar had been meditating in his tent, relaxing after a hard day's work. However, his eyes opened the moment he heard the first dong of the bell, and he swiftly gathered his men ready for battle, his eyes flashing with intelligence as he fed his beloved brown mount a piece of meat affectionately before mounting it and sending his Minitar scouts the best in the kingdom to find out the situation in camp so that he could react accordingly.
Even though The Black Death's army mainly comprised of infantry that would be more useful in the ragged terrain of the ancient forest, he still had the services of some wolf riders, allowing him some tactical flexibility and was lucky to have Tor Minitar as a subordinate as he was one of the best wolf rider commanders in the kingdom. Intelligent, diligent, loyal, and honourable, he is the perfect mix of traits that any general would want in a subordinate who is very flexible in his thinking.
The chieftain of a relatively small but powerful tribe, his tribe, The White Wolves, is known throughout the kingdom and even among some of the surrounding counties for their skill as scouts and in combat.
From raids to rearguard actions and even to independent battles and extended operations, all were things he was capable of, and after finding out that Kriggeelx was defending the armoury and being attacked, he trusted his talented friend to hold out while he went around to the rear of the rebels allowing him to hit them from two sides at once.
Because of this, The Black Death gave him a large amount of autonomy, which he used here to help ensure Ooveres' victory over these unorganised rebels, many of whom he suspected had never held a real weapon in their lives.
"Seems they managed to hold, though, if a bunch of peasants breaks through his formation, that red bastard might as well resign right now."
Tor Minitar said, drawing his duel axes as he raised one in a motion to attack.
"Charge! Kill the traitors!"
Tor Minitar cried, his men following him as he barreled towards the rear of the players with his 10,000 wolf riders whooping and hollering. This move was the death nail in an already half-buried coffin. Seeing the arrival of reinforcements from behind, the other two goblin generals began pushing their men forward in formation. Arrows rained into the centre of the players' formation, where some had already begun to run, afraid of the indomitable black-clad goblins, who seemed like shadowy gods of death to them as they ran for their lives.
"Don't be afraid. We can still win. We outnumber them!"
Stator cried, trying to rally his men. Some ran while others stood shakily in place, dropping their weapons before running or begging for mercy before his vision began to spin, and he experienced a feeling of weightlessness. His eyes wide as his spinning head saw his decapitated body slump to the ground, blood gushing from where his head had once been attached to his body.
A large goblin on a brown wolf was grinning, a battle lust over him. His bloodied axe had taken many a head that night, including the leader of the players, the last one keeping any balance of order within the player army, who had only experienced the horror of war and the stench of death for the first time.
Seeing their leader's death and their situation's hopelessness, the players ran or surrendered. A few even began vomiting at the sight of limbless men for the first time. Some decided to go out in a blaze of glory, charging heroically against the goblin shieldwall, only to be ruthlessly cut down easily by the elite goblin soldiers, who looked on these rebels with hatred.
It took only one night for the NPCs to kill or capture the players, many of whom did not know the deadly price of treason in the medieval world. This ended the first player rebellion in Dynasties Online, as the remaining players with no leadership quickly fell to the experienced Oovere military.
Many good men had died today. Tens of thousands of elite soldiers, some of the best in the whole kingdom, were killed by these rebels, who seemed to have come and attacked them for no rhyme or reason.
But there was one thing that both the generals and soldiers of the army wanted to know.
Why.
Why were they attacked by their own?
What madness made them attack the army that was meant to protect them?
Just why did thousands of their friends die?
The surviving rebel players were quickly captured by the goblins, though whether it would have been better to die in battle is something debatable.
As these players were the only outlets for all the pent-up rage and frustration the goblins felt at seeing their comrades die for no reason.
And Oovere was indeed a very primitive kingdom.
With punishments that could even put the sadistic Friend System to shame.
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
LaziestDragon
LaziestDragon Thank you for reading and for your continued support I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
The next chapter should be out tomorrow.
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Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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Stein