Colonel Aziz crouched over an injured soldier from the North, trying to lend the mortally wounded combatant some companionship in his final moments. The poor fellow’s body had been severed from the waist down, torn apart from a monstrous demon.
The demon soldiers had grown substantially smarter ever since the Demon God fell. The Wildlands’ troops were now on the defensive, with ambushes laid everywhere. In addition, those ambushes were targeted at the logistics at the back of the main body, where the weakest combatants were placed.
For some reason, despite the overwhelming odds against this particular body of troops when the ambush was sprung, there were very little casualties. Part of it was due to the appearance of those reinforcements that Hereward had conjured up in the opening of this war, but the colonel could tell that another part was due to the general unwillingness to actually overpower their targets.
“I wonder what’s going on,” Aziz muttered, kneeling over as the poor sod in front of his took his last breath. Closing the corpse’s eyes, the colonel got up and surveyed the North’s troops, who were mostly traumatised and injured. This poor sod had been particularly unlucky, from how only three had died in this well-placed ambush.
“Colonel.” Hans jogged towards him, a Radio in hand.
“Report, major.” Aziz got up and sighed. The First Aerial, as the gopher of the Republic, had been mobilised to help support the North’s attack. Halfway through the flight there, however, reports of ambushes and requests for aid had been sent out en masse, as if some master strategist had struck in a coordinated show of terrifying acumen. “How’s the situation?”
“All logistical trains of the North have been destroyed, creating chaos and delaying the main body of their troops. However, before they could press their advantage, reinforcements from the Stabiliser showed up, and the two sides tussled briefly. Although the demons soon gained the advantage, they chose not to pursue and withdrew instead.”
“Not pursuing…” Aziz shook his head. “What are they playing at? Never mind. How strong were their ambushing forces?”
Hans took out a preliminary map of the Wildlands. “Five Demigods led the ambushes at the marked locations. But…”
“Disproportionately low casualties on the North’s side?” Aziz asked, glancing at the traumatised troops around him.
“Yes, sir. Eyewitness reports said that these Demigods were focused on destroying supplies and nothing else,” said Hans. “Sir, I suspect that they’re trying to send a message.”
“You and everyone from the First Aerial, probably.” Aziz narrowed his eyes. “For now, we’ll retreat from here and regroup at the form-up point.”
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“Yes, sir.”
Hans jogged away.
Under this black dome that covered the Wildlands, the only beings that were capable of flight were Demigods. Even with his Dynamo, Aziz was unable to take to the skies; a foreign force was preventing him from flying. The First Aerial with their wings cut, was now a land troop with lots of Squires.
It was a source of distress for virtually everyone — Aziz himself had felt irked whenever he was reminded of his inability to fly. Fortunately, the edge of the black dome wasn’t too far, and moments after everyone marched back out, the First Aerial was back up in the air. New orders had come down for the First Aerial to stand guard over the landbridge that connected the Wildlands to the Five Lands, but no one said that they couldn’t do it in the air.
The colonel glanced at the leaders of Thunderbolt and Stardust as they began to arrange guard shifts. He could tell that they were taking it lightly on the kids, but again, the chances of a demon poking his or her head out that black dome was just slightly higher than Aziz becoming a Demigod tomorrow.
Unfortunately, as the leader of the whole gig, Aziz couldn’t bring himself to go down for a rest. Forcing himself to be still, the colonel looked down on the dome in what he hoped was a majestic manner and watched the minutes tick by. The gigantic black dome stood out, even in the late afternoon sun, and Aziz was pondering the mechanisms behind its ability to prohibit flight when Marie finally showed up.
“If this dome had been set up the moment the battle began, the Five Lands would have lost.” Marie looked at the black hemisphere. “According to the great gods, this…creation warps natural law. Only beings with divinity are able to fly within. Nothing else…not even the North’s Locomotives.”
The giant artefacts that had annihilated the Demon God couldn’t operate in the Wildlands. Although this was good news for the demons, Aziz couldn’t help but feel dismay at such a fact. The War Council was unlikely to give up, not with the greatest impediment gone.
A protracted war would follow, as long as this black dome held.
He sighed. “The Demon God’s dead, but for the mortals of the Five Lands, this is perhaps the second-worst outcome. Marshal, isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Like I said, I’m just a military officer.” Marie had a look of distress on her face too. “When I checked in on the War Council earlier, almost everyone was gleefully talking about territories and resources. There’s no way these people would give up on their ambitions now.”
“Even the North?” Aziz asked.
“The Pinnacle and the Oracle weren’t saying anything, at least. However, their subordinates were also looking rather pumped at the prospect of an invasion,” Marie replied. “I wonder how they’ll react to the news of those ambushes.”
“Badly, I hope,” Aziz muttered darkly. “Maybe one of them might burst a blood vessel and die on the spot too.”
“If you want the Five Lands to not attack, virtually all of them would need to suffer the same fate,” Marie replied. “Is it not enough that the Demon God is dead? There’s no news on the Demon Sovereign too.”
“Probably sealed or killed by Hereward,” Aziz replied. “The demons are effectively neutralised, so why are we pushing into their lands? It’s not like mad demons know how to farm, right?”
“Greed, I guess. Or ambition. But unless a miracle occurs, most of us are going to be buried in there.” Marie clenched her fist and punched at a nearby cloud, scattering it.
“Yes.” Aziz closed his eyes. “Should we plan a coup after all?”