Kingdom of Osvalen, Osvalen
Osvalen, the capital of the Kingdom of Osvalen, was tense with preparation. Crown Prince Orun Von Valenor had gathered the kingdom's generals and brightest strategists in the war room to discuss their dire situation against the Federation.
"Your Highness, the Federation forces currently marching toward us number approximately 120,000 strong, with an additional 30,000 still occupying Osvalis," one of the generals reported.
"120,000 troops?" Orun repeated in disbelief. "And what of our forces?"
"We have 30,000 troops stationed here in the capital," the general continued. "Distress messages were sent to all the lords of the kingdom. However, only two have responded. We're expecting reinforcements of about 10,000 troops."
Orun clenched his fist. "That’s still far from enough."
Orun understood that this war was already a one-sided victory for the Federation, a much larger force than his kingdom. The outcome seemed decided, with the Federation certain to win. With neighboring kingdoms and his kingdom nobles ignoring all his requests for aid, he knew that whatever it took, he would ensure the survival of the Kingdom of Osvalen. His resolve hardened—he was determined to do anything necessary for the kingdom’s survival.
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USS Gerald R. Ford
With the discovery of land ahead, they spotted a massive medieval port city. Vice Admiral Reginald immediately dispatched a Marine Recon team to gather information on the city.
The four-man Marine Recon team, led by First Lieutenant Nathaniel "Nate" Walker, boarded a high-speed inflatable boat from the USS Gerald R. Ford. Under the bright midday sun, they made their way toward the coastal port city. The boat skimmed over the calm waters, engines humming steadily as they approached the docks.
The city was visible now, a port with ships docked and workers unloading cargo. Nate signaled the driver to reduce speed as they neared the shore, steering the boat toward a small, less crowded dock. The team was well-armed and ready for any situation, but they didn't intend to sneak around, they were here to gather information and make their presence known.
The boat slowed to a halt, and with ease. Upon arriving at the port, the Marine Recon team quickly disembarked from the boat and set foot on the dock. But before they could proceed further, a group of guards clad in iron armor rushed toward them. Without hesitation, the guards raised their spears, pointing them directly at the team, ready for confrontation.
Nate and his team remained calm, observing their surroundings. Nate noticed one of the guards holding a spear that glowed red. As he focused on the guard, he saw the red cape draped over his back, indicating that he was their leader. Nate attempted to speak to him but was immediately interrupted.
"Who are you?" A voice came from behind the guards. They cleared the way, revealing a woman with green hair and glasses. Nate was taken aback, not expecting the voice to come from her.
"I asked, who are you people?" The woman demanded, her eyes beginning to glow green.
Nate was startled by the woman's glowing eyes, quickly concluding that it was probably magic. He had been inform on the existence of magic in this world, but seeing it firsthand was still surprising.
"Uh, we are from the U.S. Marines," Nate replied.
"U.S. Marines? What is that?" the woman asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Just as Nate was about to respond, Second Lieutenant James Harrison stepped forward. He leaned in close to Nate and whispered into his ear, "Careful with what you say. That magic green eyes seems to be like lie detector." Nate nodded slightly, taking note of what James had whispered to him. He quickly adjusted his approach, choosing his words carefully.
"We're soldiers," Nate said cautiously, keeping his tone neutral.
"Hostile?" the woman asked, her glowing green eyes narrowing slightly.
"No, we are not, unless we are provoked," Nate replied calmly.
"Are you here for diplomatic relations?" she questioned again, her tone sharp and assessing.
"Uh..." Nate hesitated, knowing their primary objective was reconnaissance. But thinking quickly, he decided to stick close to the truth. "Yes... we are trying to establish diplomatic relations with nations for trade."
"Very well. Follow me," she said, her eyes dimming as the glow faded. At her command, the guards lowered their spears, allowing Nate and his team to pass. With a quick glance at his team, Nate signaled for them to follow, staying close behind the mysterious woman.
As they followed the woman through the bustling streets of the port city, she glanced back at them and introduced herself.
"I am Inspector Elaina Virgord, appointed by the crown to oversee matters of foreign visitors. You are fortunate I was there to intercept you, others might not have been so understanding."
Nate nodded, absorbing the information while continuing to observe their surroundings.
They were led through the city gates and up a winding path toward the castle. Upon reaching the main entrance, guards opened the large doors as they approached. Inside, they passed down a grand hallway decorated with banners and tapestries, eventually arriving at the throne room. At the far end of the room, seated on a raised platform, was Crown Prince Orun Von Valenor, watching them with a stern expression as they entered.
Elaina approached the prince and bowed respectfully. "Your Highness, these are the outsiders. They claim to come seeking peace and diplomatic relations."
As Nate and his team approached the throne room, they immediately noticed the heavy security surrounding Crown Prince Orun. A dozen soldiers in gold armor stood strategically around the room, their hands resting on their swords and eyes locked onto the intruders.
Nate took a deep breath and stepped forward cautiously, knowing the gravity of the situation. He reached into his gear and pulled out a small, handheld radio, keeping his movements slow and deliberate to avoid alarming the guards.
"Your Highness," Nate began, addressing the crown prince. "We understand you're interested in discussing diplomatic relations. To ensure this conversation is done properly, we need to bring in someone from our leadership to speak directly with you."
Prince Orun narrowed his eyes slightly, unsure of the device in Nate's hand.
"This is a radio, a communication device," Nate explained. "With it, we can connect you to our commanding officers who hold authority over matters like this."
Elaina, standing to the side, observed curiously while Orun remained calm, weighing the risks. After a tense moment, the prince gave a small nod.
Nate quickly adjusted the radio frequency and spoke into the device. "This is First Lieutenant Nathaniel Pierce with Marine Recon Team, we’ve made contact with the leadership of the local government. Requesting to patch in for diplomatic communication. Over."
A crackle of static followed, then a firm, authoritative voice replied. "This is Vice Admiral Reginald aboard USS Gerald R. Ford. We acknowledge your request. Preparing to establish direct contact with local leadership. Stand by."
Nate turned back to Prince Orun. "Your Highness, the person you’ll be speaking with is Vice Admiral Reginald, the commander of our fleet. He’s in charge of the navy and diplomatic decisions in this region."
The prince, intrigued by the seamless communication, gestured for Nate to proceed. The guards remained on high alert, but no one made a move.
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After a few seconds, the radio crackled again, and Vice Admiral Reginald's voice came through clearly. "I understand you’re interested in discussing diplomatic matters. We come in peace and wish to establish mutual understanding and cooperation between our nations."
Orun leaned forward slightly, his expression now one of cautious interest. "I am Crown Prince Orun Von Valenor of the Kingdom of Osvalen. We have never seen your kind before. What is your true purpose here?"
Vice Admiral Reginald's response was steady. "Our mission is peaceful exploration and to establish diplomatic ties with new nations. We do not seek conflict, but we are prepared to defend ourselves if necessary. We believe in mutual benefit through trade and cooperation."
The prince exchanged a glance with Elenara before replying. "Very well, we will listen to your terms. But understand this—Osvalen is in a time of war."
Nate lowered the radio slightly, watching the prince’s reaction. It was clear the conversation had only just begun, and the weight of future decisions loomed over both parties.
As Vice Admiral Reginald continued speaking through the radio, his voice steady, he explained, "Your Highness, we come from a nation known as the United States of America, a land far from here. Our society is built upon machines, technology, and the use of oil to power many of our industries and vehicles. We value freedom, commerce, and diplomatic relations."
Prince Orun's eyes narrowed in thought as he listened. "Oil? Machines?" He glanced toward one of his generals, then back to Reginald’s radio device. "That sounds familiar. The Republic, our allied nation, has machines that run on strange fuels. They extract a black liquid from our lands, and they use it to power their engines."
Reginald listened carefully, immediately understanding that this 'black liquid' was oil. The mention of the Republic's machines confirmed that this world had another technologically advanced power.
"What you describe sounds like crude oil," Reginald said, choosing his words with caution. "The Republic may be refining it into fuels like diesel, which is used to power their machines, just as we do."
Orun's expression shifted to one of desperation. He stepped forward, his voice pleading. "If your people have such power, the same as the Republic, I beg of you—help us. The Federation has brought its armies to conquer our lands, and they are marching to our capital now. Their forces are vast, and though we have fought bravely, we are outnumbered."
He paused, visibly frustrated by the dire situation. "In exchange for your help, we will offer you land rich with oil. The Republic has already set up machines to extract and process it, but if you aid us in defeating the Federation, the land and the machines will be yours."
Reginald considered the prince's offer. Oil would be a valuable resource for them, especially since they were cut off from their usual supply lines. The infrastructure already in place made the offer even more tempting. However, aligning with Osvalen against the Federation could pull them into a complex war, with the potential for long-term consequences.
"Your Highness," Reginald began, his tone diplomatic, "we understand your dire situation, and your request is not one we take lightly. However, we cannot make a hasty decision. We must consult with our command and evaluate the potential risks of entering this conflict."
Prince Orun's face fell, a look of desperation taking hold. "I understand... but please, do not delay. The Federation’s army is already on the march, and we cannot hold out for long without outside help."
Reginald remained calm, even as the weight of the prince’s words sunk in. "We will considered on this matter swiftly, Your Highness. I assure you that your request will be taken seriously, but until a decision is made, we will refrain from any military action."
The prince nodded slowly, though his worry was clear. "I will await your decision, but know that time is not on our side."
Reginald sat back in his chair, deep in thought. The stakes were high. The offer of land and oil could significantly benefit them, but the risk of getting involved in a war was considerable. He needed to weigh the potential rewards against the consequences of entering a conflict that wasn’t theirs to fight.
After their talk, Reginald immediately held a meeting with the high-ranking officers. Some were opposed to getting involved in the war, while others saw the opportunity to gain full access to the oil and the machines that refined it, which could solve one of the base's crucial resource issues. With the radio silent, Nate attempted to ask some questions about the federation and the continent to gain more knowledge. However, after one hour, the radio came back to life.
Reginald voice came through the radio. "Your Highness, we understand the urgency of your situation, but we still need time to analyze the Federation. This process could take several days. We don't want to risk sending our men into a situation we don’t fully understand," he explained. "This is the decision made by the officers."
Prince Orun's desperation became clear. He stepped forward, his voice shaking with urgency. "You don't understand, Vice Admiral. The Federation is not just waging war—they are committing atrocities. They have massacred entire cities, slaughtering civilians without mercy. My people… our children, women, and the elderly—they’ve been wiped out. City Osvalis lies in ruins, its streets filled with the bodies of innocents."
The prince’s eyes welled with emotion, his composure crumbling. "We tried to negotiate peace, but they spat on our offers. They don't seek just to conquer—they seek to erase us from existence."
Reginald felt a chill run through him as he listened. The weight of the prince's words hung heavily. His mind raced, considering the implications. What the prince described was far more than a conventional war. It was barbaric, a massacre.
Orun fell to his knees, pleading now. "Please... I beg of you. We cannot stand against their numbers alone. Our kingdom is on the brink of collapse. If you have the power to help us, do not let my people die. We will give you anything—land, resources, treasure—just help us stop the Federation."
Reginald remained composed, though his mind with conflicting thoughts. They had the power to intervene, but doing so would draw them into a brutal war. The Federation was clearly ruthless, but the risks of engaging in a foreign conflict were immense. Still, the prince's desperation and the atrocities committed by the Federation made it hard to ignore the moral imperative.
After a long pause, Reginald spoke carefully. "Your Highness, I hear your plea, and I will take this matter directly to our command once again. But understand, we must weigh the consequences of entering this war carefully."
Prince Orun nodded, his face etched with desperation but also a glimmer of hope. "Please... I beg you... do not let us face this terror."
Reginald ended the transmission and leaned back in his chair, deeply troubled. The situation was far more complex and harrowing than he had initially imagined. Now, the decision was no longer just about resources and alliances—it was about preventing a massacre, a genocide that threatened an entire kingdom. He knew the decision would not be easy, but one thing was certain, whatever they chose to do next could change the course of this new world forever.
Kingdom of Osvalen, Osvalis
Osvalis lay in ruins, with bodies of civilians and Osvalen soldiers scattered across the streets. Federation soldiers searched each house, killing any men and children they found, while capturing the women.
General Fraden Tudor walked along the city walls, watching as his troops cleared the bodies of Osvalen soldiers. His assistant, John, approached him.
"General, are we still marching tonight to catch up with the main force?" John asked.
"Yes," Fraden replied. "It's been two days since they departed. If we delay any longer, it will be harder to catch up.
"But General, the battle’s already won. General Henry has command of the main force, and… well, I haven't had enough fun yet," John said with a smirk.
Fraden sighed. "Fine. We leave at dawn. Let the officers know."
"Yes, Gener—" John was cut off by the sound of a door crashing open below. A woman and child ran from a house being searched, but it was too late. Federation soldiers raised their crossbows and shot them down without hesitation.
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In the skies above Osvalis, a lone MQ-9 Reaper drone circled, capturing live footage of the Federation soldiers' actions on the ground. The feed was relayed directly to the officers of the Carrier Strike Group, who watched in stunned silence as the brutal scene unfolded.
"Vice Admiral," Rear Admiral Jonathan Thompson spoke up, breaking the silence, "The Federation’s military appears similar to the kingdom of Osvalen, but with some advancements. We could engage and defeat them. Not only could we put an end to these atrocities, but we’d also secure access to oil and the machinery that refines it. Additionally, we’d earn recognition from the Republic, given Osvalen's alliance with them."
After hearing Jonathan's words, Vice Admiral Reginald scanned the room, to see the reactions of his officers. It was clear from their expressions that most of them shared the same desire and that is to put an end to the atrocities they had just witnessed. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on Reginald's shoulders, but he knew what had to be done.
With a firm nod, Reginald made his choice. "We'll move forward with this," he said. "Start preparing the necessary plans. We're going to intervene."
With the decision made, Reginald quickly informed Prince Orun of their final decision. Upon receiving the news, Orun was visibly relieved and overjoyed, clearly seeing a glimmer of hope for his kingdom's survival.
Kingdom of Osvalen, Osvalen
At the coast of Osvalen, massive iron ships appeared on the horizon, towering over the city. Word spread quickly that a new nation, the United States of America, had come to aid the kingdom. Curious citizens flocked to the docks, eager to catch a glimpse of their new allies. Among the ships, the USS Gerald R. Ford, the flagship and largest vessel, stood out, its immense size and presence a symbol of unmatched power. The sight of the formidable fleet give hope and motivation among the soldiers of Osvalis, their morale rising with the arrival of such a powerful force.
One F/A-18 Super Hornet was dispatched from the carrier, ascending rapidly into the sky. As it soared above the city of Osvalen, it shattered the sound barrier with a very loud boom. The citizens below erupted in cheers, inspired by the display of power. However, the aircraft's mission was not to impress, but to intimidate. Its true objective lay to the north of the city, where the massive force of the Federation was marching. The Super Hornet flew at high speed toward the Federation army, tasked not with engaging them, but with sending a clear message of dominance.
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120,000 troops of the Federation, marching toward the capital of Osvalen, are led by General Henry Manfred, Commander of the South Army. Surrounded by his elite bodyguards on horseback, Henry is one of the most brilliant generals the Federation has. Tasked with the conquest of Osvalen, he is highly motivated by the promise made by the Federation congress that if he successfully captures the kingdom, the land will be granted to him to govern, though it must still officially join the Federation. As they march through the countryside, the Federation soldiers loot and burn any small villages they come across, leaving destruction in their path.
As they marched, General Henry Manfred remained confident, certain that the kingdom would not dare to challenge them in an open field. The Federation's forces outnumbered the defenders by far, so he remained relaxed and composed throughout the journey. However, his peace was interrupted when one of his elite bodyguards, a mage, suddenly tensed. With a furrowed brow, the guard lifted his hand to the sky and muttered under his breath, sensing something unusual ahead.
Henry, noticing the sudden change in his bodyguard's demeanor, turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked calmly, though his eyes narrowed in curiosity.
"Th-there is something coming, it's fast and extraordinary!" the guard said, his finger pointing nervously at the sky ahead. His voice trembled with a sense of urgency.
Henry furrowed his brow, looking up at the sky. "What the hell do you mean?" he snapped, but before he could finish, the guard interrupted him, his voice now loud and panicked.
"IT'S HERE!" the guard shouted.
In that instant, the sky above erupted with a very loud sonic boom as the F/A-18 Super Hornet shot across the sky at an incredible speed. The fighter jet tore through the air, breaking the sound barrier with a thunderous crack. The shockwave rippled through the air, sending the Federation soldiers into a panic. The earth seemed to shake with the power of the jet passage and the wind whipped violently as the Super Hornet raced overhead.
The soldiers froze for a split second, momentarily stunned by the sheer force of the sound and speed. Then, chaos erupted. Some soldiers ducked instinctively, others shielded their eyes from the sudden rush of wind. Their training had not prepared them for something like this.
"Get down!" General Henry Manfred barked, instinctively reaching for his sword. He had no idea what this was, but it was clear it wasn’t something from the Federation. The presence of this unknown threat sent a chill down his spine.
Within moments, a group of mages rushed to Henry’s side. They quickly surrounded him, their hands weaving through the air, murmuring incantations under their breath. A moment later, a shimmering, translucent barrier formed around the general, glowing with magical energy. The mages worked quickly, their focus intense. The air seemed to crackle with power as the barrier expanded to shield the entire group of elite soldiers around Henry.
Henry didn’t take his eyes off the sky. 'what had just passed overhead?'
The Super Hornet, now a mere speck in the distance, had done its job. It had not engaged the Federation forces, its mission was never to fight but its very presence, its overwhelming speed and power, had shaken them to their core. Henry could see it in the eyes of his soldiers, their once-confident march now halted, replaced by a sense of uncertainty and dread.
"Ready yourselves!" Henry called out, regaining his composure. "We march on, but be prepared for whatever comes next. We are not facing a normal enemy. This is no longer just about conquering a kingdom."
As the Federation troops continued their march, some soldiers feared what awaited them in Osvalen. They knew defying their officers could mean death. Above, a lone MQ-9 Reaper hovered at high altitude, silently monitoring their movements. Despite the unsettling encounter with the F/A-18 Super Hornet, the Federation kept advancing toward Osvalen without hesitation.
Chapter 6 end here :)