June 5
Runepolis, Holy Mirishial Empire
Director Liage glanced at the heavily mustached blonde man sitting across from him, offering him an ice-cold plastic cup with a green logo resembling a woman. “Good to see you, Audigs. Coffee?”
Audigs held up a hand, “No thank you,” he chuckled. “Those drinks are too sweet; I can’t burn calories as well as an elf. I’ll become like one of those hefty Americans, eh?”
“Fair enough,” Liage laughed, poking a straw into the drink. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Straight to business, then?” Audigs sighed as he brushed a few strands of hair from his eyes. “Very well then,” he said, clearing his throat. “The government of Mu wishes to invoke Article Five of the Elysian Defense Treaty to fight off the Gra Valkas Empire.”
Liage raised an eyebrow. “You desire our aid in combating the Gra Valkans? Have they declared war?”
“No,” Audigs said, looking a bit troubled, “Not yet, at least.” He explained, “The Gra Valkans have been waging a campaign of conquest throughout our continent. We would have tried to stop them preemptively, but we regretfully admit that their power far outstrips even our own. Stopping them in their tracks alone would be suicide.”
Liage recalled his nation’s unsavory encounters with the Gra Valkans, particularly the interactions they had with a rather brash diplomat. Although the Gra Valkans had been confirmed as a viable threat by their military analysts, Liage couldn’t help but feel excited at the prospect of finally putting these cocky barbarians in their place. Plus, indulging in Mu’s requests could lead to some beneficial conditions – something that was desperately needed to counter growing American influence abroad. With an understanding smile, Liage nodded. “I’ll forward your request to the Emperor. Do keep in mind that Article Five was developed primarily for the return of the Sorcerers, so we may need to come to certain agreements to accommodate.”
Audigs knew the game Liage was playing, but his hands were tied. Giving some minor concessions to the Mirishials was much more preferable to complete domination at the hands of the Gra Valkans, and so he reluctantly agreed. “You… have a deal.”
—-
Sonalta, Sonal Kingdom
Colonel Arocles watched General Viltrius as he removed several allied pieces from a map of the Sonal Kingdom. Although an expected outcome, it still pained him to see that the city of Exteris had finally fallen and with it, half of their entire military. Tens of thousands of trained men still remained: battered, yet defiant and ready to defend the capital. Equipped with modernized weaponry thanks to shipments from the Muan border, these elite troops represented the Sonal Kingdom’s final hope.
Despite their victories in Exteris and other battlegrounds, they were severely outmatched by the Gra Valkan invaders. In their renewed vigor, they had obliterated Exteris and flooded this new opening with wave after wave of mechanized units, steamrolling through cities and fortresses until the Sonalians were pushed back to their capital city. Unlike the initial invasion attempt, this attempt was unstoppable; the Gra Valkans deployed a number of forces that the Sonalians had never thought possible.
Faced against a war machine the likes of which they had never seen, the Sonalians began to panic. Even the esteemed General Viltrius – lauded for his emotionless cunning on the battlefield – was beginning to show cracks. With a shaky voice, he addressed his officers, “I want our troops concentrated on the western half of the city. Spread them out as much as possible to avoid succumbing to enemy bombs!”
“Sir,” Arocles said, “What is our objective?”
“Buy time for our people to escape, and deal as much damage to the Gra Valkans as possible.”
Arocles and the other men knew exactly what this meant. Unless they were unfortunate enough to be captured as prisoners, or deceitful enough to desert, there was no surviving this day. With a sense of pride and valor, Arocles resigned to his fate. “It has been an honor to serve with you, General.”
“And you as well, Colonel. I shall see you on the battlefield.”
——
The western roads that connected Sonalta to the other Sonalian cities soon filled with columns of tanks and artillery platforms. Mine disposal units took the lead, tearing up the dirt roads and setting off the traps laid by the Sonalians. Much to the dismay of the defenders, each detonated mine represented one more vehicle that could lend its power to the invasion.
While the Gra Valkan mechanized units slowly crawled toward the city’s walls, swarms of aircraft swooped down upon anything that could be construed as a defense. Bombs and artillery brought ruin to the once-beautiful city, whose inhabitants were now amongst the numerous refugee caravans headed for the Muan border. Only the stalwart and stupid remained, hunkering down in civilian bunkers or in their homes, hoping to weather the storm safely.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The last vestiges of the Sonalian military took cover in similar fashion, using sturdy structures and fortified bunkers to wait out the ruthless devastation that rained from the sky. Massive quakes shook Viltrius’ command bunker, causing him to wonder if the entire structure would come collapsing down on him. In a refreshing wave of relief, the tremors ceased. Immediately, he checked up on his other bases. “Status report?”
A communications officer apprised him of the condition of his forces, “Sir, we’ve lost complete contact with eight platoons and five report that they have been sealed in by rubble.” He listed their names.
Viltrius cursed as he rebuilt his strategic map, placing appropriate pieces on their respective locations. He looked at the new setup and ordered the westernmost units to begin reinforcing the outer walls. He then stared at the other units, which were scattered throughout the city and likely unable to reach each other due to severe debris blocking the roads. His deep thoughts were shaken by Arocles.
“General,” Arocles caught his attention.
“Hm?” Viltrius hoped that Arocles had an ingenious suggestion.
“The units reinforcing the wall will likely be overrun. By the time nearby units reach that location, the Gra Valkans probably would have already broken through. I think our other units should hunker down and set up defenses along as many streets as possible.”
Viltrius thought back to the advice given to him by the Muans and nodded. “If we can’t maintain the chokepoint at the outer walls, then we might as well make them bleed for every inch of territory they take.”
“Indeed,” Arocles nodded. “We can also make the most out of urban combat’s chaotic nature. Some of the Gra Valkan tanks are too bulky for our narrow streets, so we can cut them off using our remaining explosives and corrall them into kill zones.”
“See to it, Colonel. And keep our units near their shelters,” Viltrius said, erring on the side of caution. He explained, “It won’t be long before the Gra Valkans get tired of being pummelled by our forces; they’ll send new waves of airstrikes and bombardments soon.”
Arocles acknowledged Viltrius’ warning and set out from the bunker to coordinate a defense along the massive road that stretched from the outer walls to the royal castle itself. He drew a line in the sand, directing three nearby platoons to the military and administrative district that sat halfway from the castle. There, he garrisoned the surviving structures and reinforced windows and firing positions with his mages’ earth magic. Walls of dirt sprung up to provide a layer of protection against Gra Valkan light arms while trenches and ditches were cleared out to hinder the Gra Valkan advance. The flanks were seeded with explosives, ready to detonate upon detection of enemy activity.
The few anti-tank guns they had left were spread out and hidden amongst the debris while cannons were placed in more detectable positions, to draw fire away from the more important anti-tank guns. Mages sat in the rear of the defensive position, equipped with crates of magic gems and ready to provide supportive spellcasting. Riflemen posted up in windows and trenches while swordsmen hid behind corners and in rooms, ready to ambush the enemy to maximum effectiveness.
Explosions in the distance kept the men company as they waited tediously for the battle to arrive. For each minute that passed, the gunfire grew closer, until it was finally within visual range. Navigating a massive pile of debris on the main road, tanks and soldiers made themselves seen as they marched toward the Sonalian defenses wary, yet unaware. The Gra Valkans eyed the crevices and alleys of the ruined city, scarred from previous ambushes. They searched to no avail, completely glossing over the dark windows and rifle barrels poking from the debris.
The Gra Valkans approached the trenches, only realizing what they were looking at when it was already too late. Guns popped out from the debris-covered trenches, opening fire while mages performed sensory spells to disorient the Gra Valkans. Blasts of sound, light, and wind ravaged the Gra Valkans while they were eviscerated by a blend of cannonfire, gunfire, arrows, and makeshift bombs. The first strike was debilitating, but having expected such an ambush, the Gra Valkans reacted quickly.
Their infantry rushed into nearby ruins, taking cover only to be stabbed by elite swordsmen lying in wait. The Gra Valkans were soon made aware of these ambushes, and the infantry worked to capture buildings on their side of the battlefield. Meanwhile, their tanks backed up, sieging the fortifications from a distance while units split off toward smaller roads to flank the Sonalians. The groups that had split off to the sides were cut off by debris left over from friendly bombing and artillery campaigns, and were forced to take narrow paths. Naturally, these units took the shortest paths and thus met a violent death at the hands of Sonalian demolitionists.
Arocles watched the battle unfold from the remains of a four-story building, heart swelling with pride. He turned to a mage by his side, “Please generate a scrying spell.”
The mage complied, and a cloudy image akin to a hologram appeared in front of him. It displayed the battlefield from a bird’s eye view. The flanks were secure, with the Gra Valkans lost as they searched for another way to reach the defensive formation. The primary front along the main road was defended well for now, with both sides entering a stalemate as the Gra Valkans waited for artillery support.
Seeing the tanks cease fire and retreat signaled alarms in Arocles’ mind. Quickly, he ordered his men to retreat back to their shelters, but by then it was too late. The Gra Valkans had preemptively requested a strike on their position, risking friendly fire because they did not want to tip off the Sonalians. Arocles rushed deep into the building, hurriedly jumping down the stairs to put as much cover between the whistling shells above and himself as possible.
He reached the second floor before he was knocked off his feet and sent flying in a brilliant flash of light. He placed his hands up to protect his face from shrapnel and impacted a wall behind him. Dazed, he picked himself up from the floor, crawling as he struggled to stand up. An entire side of the building was gone, replaced with rubble. Outside, tanks were pushing forward as Gra Valkans cleared his trenches with flamethrowers. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the complete decimation of his men’s fortifications at the hands of heavy Gra Valkan firepower.