It wasn't Konrad's first time to witness this divide.
The kingdom's 'regular' citizens and the tribesmen did not take well to each other. Their cultural differences, distrust, and generational antagonism were difficult to bridge.
He knew it would be a long process. There was a fragile balance to strike here—
And he had less than a month to figure out how to deal with it in his men-at-arms.
No, more accurate would've been to say that he had to learn how to lead an army of men that all hated each other. Playing the commander and the peacemaker at once.
Two things he had no experience with.
The initial duels showed him what was to come.
He had to prepare lots and have them pull at random, or they would only interact with their own kind. If a knight faced a tribal, they started by staring each other down.
Their duels were vicious, their fighting style incompatible and different—
And no matter how close each bout ended up being, the resentment between the warriors only grew. His plan to break the ice failed so hard that it almost turned into a full-scale brawl.
"Their way of fighting is dishonourable," a champion accused a fresh recruit.
"All these fancy knights can do is hide behind their shields and armor," a Blood Moon tribesman scoffed. "They're slow and hesitate too much."
"And we still wiped the floor with your kind at the Battle of Altef Hills," a knight snapped back.
Konrad could feel a headache coming.
He rubbed his temples in advance, but was stuck with this situation.
"Forget the goblin swarm, if I sent these people to the mines, they'd kill each other instead."
Welf laughed at his moaning, the only one having fun so far, winning all his duels with ease.
"I don't know what to tell you, kid. There is no danger here; they're not forced to work together, and you made them duke it out for supremacy."
Fair. Konrad thought that if they saw how everyone could fight, it'd bring them closer together.
Instead, he only fanned their rivalry further, deepening the divide.
"Okay, do you have any suggestions, then?" he asked, becoming desperate. "If it were about to feed them or arm them, I'd figure that in seconds, but how can I force them to get along?"
The blacksmith shrugged, watching as the bickering continued.
"Throw them in the deep," he said, rolling back his shoulders. "You had the right idea with the goblins, but most of them have no idea what to expect. You need to show them a threat."
"If I sent them to the mines, half of them would not return," Konrad claimed, shaking his head.
The redhead couldn't argue with that, but he didn't try, either.
"Oh, I don't know. If only you had a kind of magic that shows them scary things that can't actually harm them?" He looked at him like he was an idiot and—well, he had a point.
"Throw them in a simulation?" Konrad pondered, his imagination running wild with the idea.
He wasn't a big gamer in his past life. He always worked overtime, so he never had the chance.
But he had a basic understanding of how shooter games and multiplayer worked.
How competitive people became—
And while he had computers or the internet in this world—
"You're right. I'm stupid," he yelped, finding his eureka moment. "I'll show them the worst horror they can imagine, and only let them escape it once they learned to work together."
Welf frowned.
"That's not—well, it could work, but—what do you have in mind?" he asked with suspicion.
"Much of Halaima's outskirts are still in ruins after Stella's rampage," Konrad noted. "And I don't know how it was for you, but I found her zombies quite terrifying."
He had some prime inspiration and a realistic example right in front of him.
Creating fake zombies out of thin air was simple, but—
"They would be only scary until they make contact," Welf pointed out. "Once they realize, they can't harm them, the horror aspect will no longer work. Though it might take some time."
"No, you're right," Konrad said, shaking his head. "I can't pit them against illusions alone."
But he had about seventy men, and a half-ruined maze of a city to play in.
All that to prepare for a tournament.
So why not make a miniature version of it and pit them against each other?
"They will be the zombies," he stated, his voice almost a whisper. "I won't even tell them anything. Only to patrol that area in small groups—and then change their appearance."
"Hold on," Welf raised his hand, and—gulped? "Weren't you worried they'd kill each other?"
"I'll give them practice swords, but change the looks of those, too," Konrad replied.
That was a lot of illusions to set up, plus some artificial darkness to make it scarier.
Why did he end up in logistics, rather than as a game developer?!
The ideas kept flowing in, one more savage than the last. But he also knew it would take him an insane amount of mana to pull it off. From that much, he could've glassed the entire city.
"Well, I have the resources," he muttered, more to himself.
"And how are you going to split them into two teams?" Welf asked, looking like he regretted his suggestion already. "Tribals against the champions? Or two mixed platoons?"
"Two?" Konrad raised an eyebrow. "No, that would be too simple."
He couldn't help but grin.
His imagination ran wild, and he was about to become the most evil game master.
This might've been the closest he got to controlling the chaos—by creating it himself.
"I'll have them all draw lots and form six-man groups at random. They'll have to elect a squad leader, and I will give them petty goals, like recover something from the ruins."
He needed lieutenants and sergeants after all.
"If they can't agree on anything or can't work together, that team will lose, and lose fast. But if someone can rise above the chaos I'm about to unleash, I want them in a leading position."
"What have I done?" the blacksmith groaned, scratching his forehead.
"You gave me a great idea," Konrad said, patting his back. "A team building zombie apocalypse."
The redhead laughed, but he must've realized he was serious, because his face fell.
"Remind me to never mess with illusionists," Welf muttered. "And I guess I'd sit this one out?"
Konrad raised an eyebrow.
"Why would you?" he asked. "You're my right-hand man. Eligible for leading the troops, too. But how would I know how you compare to the rest if I don't test you as well?"
"B-but, I already know your plan," the blacksmith pointed out.
"Then I'll also test if you can keep a secret," Konrad replied with a smirk. "And I'll make sure you'll have to work with a bunch of knights as a handicap."
Welf paled, but he didn't pay much attention to him anymore.
He was busy working out the details of his soon-to-be illusions and the level design.
A wargame. No, a horrifying illusion.
His soldiers would soon learn to work together and rely on each other, or they'd all run away screaming. Konrad hoped for the first one—but the second option seemed amusing, too.