A great white bird soared gently over the skies of Osea, its propellers enabling the mighty beast to glide in the heavens with an unearthly near-silence to the few people down below. The plains and the surrounding seas were unlike anything that the bird’s creators had ever envisioned in the decade prior to the very night it was launched into the skies, yet it continued its ascent amongst the clouds with the aim of pursuing its primary directive—the safety and protection of the Needle that threaded the border between the earth and the skies beyond.
A series of ones and zeroes abruptly registered in the bird’s mind in the span of a few microseconds—a set of new directives, a series of coordinates, and a selection of new targets deemed fit for elimination—and the bird began to shift its wings and change course.
From far below, a farmer watched in astonishment as the bird began to gently cruise towards the eastern coast of the Osean Federation…
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Sea of Parpa — December 14, 2019
“Fleet Captain Saxid?”
Looking up from the documents he was browsing on his desk, the Parpaldian naval officer looked up in acknowledgement. “Ah, Commander. Is it time already for our little engagement?”
With a flourish, the commander nodded. “By our estimates, we are approximately as close as possible to Sand Island as we can safely venture without wyvern cover. The knights are awaiting your signal to depart, sir.”
“Well, no use in delaying them with these reports, eh? After you, Mitan!”
Emerging on the main deck of the Mon-class ship-of-the-line Muraito, the two officers in charge of Parpaldia’s punitive expedition observed as the crew and their counterparts aboard the neighbouring vessels all stood at attention. Reaching for a magic gem to grant his voice the volume required to reach every ship, Saxid addressed the fleet, his voice filled with determination and deep anticipation for the battle ahead.
“Men of Parpaldia, we stand here today to show the Osean Federation the consequences of standing up to our mighty empire! They have given us blood, so we shall pay them in kind—for every man you kill, every beast or machine you slay, know that you avenge a fellow brother slain unjustly by barbarian scum! For Altaras, for Eshirant, for Duro—for Parpaldia!”
“Glory to Parpaldia! Glory to Parpaldia! Glory to Parpaldia! Glory to Parpaldia!”
Grinning eagerly at his men’s infectious enthusiasm, Saxid turned to the closest mannacomm operator. “Tell Magne to give our wyvern knights permission to depart! Tell them to eliminate as much of the enemy’s defences to give our boats an opening—but don’t forget to leave us something to kill, too!”
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The bird’s sensors abruptly picked up an odd series of frequencies and stimuli—a peculiar pattern, but one that the aircraft had since learned signalled the arrival of a new entity. Its processors began to quantify the logistics behind a potential engagement even as it began to assess the situation as to determine whether such an approach was necessary; its latest data package had provided the bird with a comprehensive analysis of potential targets and recommended responses, yet it was the bird alone that would calculate what measures would be required.
The frequencies were now beginning to multiply, and the bird quickly recognised the coordinates of each point of origin—identical to a naval and aerial formation, its destination likely to be the island less than a few kilometres to the west. In an instant, the being’s protocols identified the new arrivals as hostile in intent and responded in kind—
—over fifty missiles simultaneously launched from its wings, leaving a maze-like stream of white smoke to line the skies in their wake—
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“All squadrons, be advised—we are going to travel as low as possible to avoid visual detection by the Oseans on Sand Island! Try not to crash into the sea; we don’t want any unnecessary casualties before we even get to the coastline, got it?”
His eyes focused in a delicate balance between the waters below and the distant horizon, Dragon Knight Sarkar closely followed his superior as the seventy-five wyverns of the Parpaldian Eastern Fleet coasted above the ocean separating their mighty Empire to the west and the Osean interlopers to the east. The mission at the surface seemed deceptively easy—strike the western edge of the Federation and deal as much damage as possible—but the stories of Eshirant and Duro had long since elucidated the dangerous nature of their foe’s otherworldly toys; any encounter with the infamous metal wyverns or any of their ground or naval counterparts would need to be swift and efficient or else risk certain annihilation. And so Sarkar, Magne, and their men kept their eyes trained for a telltale sign of the Oseans and their profane devices—
“There, one kilometre to our east and closing fast! Osean guided arrows inbound—“
An explosion cut short the knight’s warning as the man and his wyvern were obliterated in an instant, the guided arrow finding its mark in a matter of seconds. Several other pilots whirled around in confusion, while the more experienced veterans began to peer eastward in anticipation—there would be more Parpaldian blood shed if they were not careful.
“Eyes on the front, men! That arrow will likely have more friends intent on striking down more of us—prepare for evasive manoeuvres at the last second!”
“East, northeast, and southeast, fifteen hundred metres! Evade, evade, evade!”
The sky quickly became dotted with shouts and explosions as the Parpaldians began a frantic effort to avoid being intercepted by the Osean arrows—many simply couldn’t evade the subsonic speeds of the incoming projectiles and were swiftly shot out of the sky, while others narrowly avoided instant death yet struggled to avoid colliding with their wingmen or tumbling out of the sky and into the ocean from the sheer amount of aerial gymnastics required. Sarkar and Magne weaved back and forth, the guided arrows narrowly missing them on several occasions or finding a new target instead—the many years of flying in the skies had ultimately prepared them for this moment: the ultimate test of skill and instinct against the ultimate foe.
“How many people are still alive? All squadrons, report!”
“Squadrons One, Ten, and Thirteen were wiped out, sir! All the rest have suffered significant casualties, but we’re all still combat effective. What are your orders?”
“Press on, people! We may no longer have the element of surprise, but our rightful retribution takes precedence above all else! Dodge all other guided arrows and move forward! For Parpaldia, men, for Parpaldia!”
Grinning in anticipation, Sarkar took Magne’s words to heart as he once more motioned his wyvern to take flight—already, reports of yet another wave of guided arrows were trickling in from the other knights. Preparing for another series of atmospheric stunts, the Parpaldian and his flying steed manoeuvred through the maze of clouds and explosions with all their might, narrowly dodging several projectiles in the process. His vision blurring as he struggled to stay conscious, Sarkar clung desperately on to his wyvern as more Parpaldians fell out of the sky—unable to maintain the sheer stamina required to endure the onslaught or simply caught by the deadly arrows, the casualties continued to pile up—or rather, sink down into the ocean floor.
Glancing around as the latest fusillade seemed to be lightening up, Sarkar’s face began to brighten. Had he somehow made it through? He did, he did! Hadn’t he? He most certainly did! Wait, there was one more—
One particular guided arrow soared towards his flank—it was seemingly larger than the rest, yet it seemed to be travelling at roughly the same speed and its smaller counterparts—if not even faster. Even as he easily dodged the projectile and began to laugh in satisfaction, Sarkar turned and squinted for the briefest of moments in slight confusion at the unusually large device—
“Wait, what in the gods’ names is that—”
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“Fuck, Sarkar’s gone! All callsigns, we just lost Squadrons Four through Eight! What the hell was that explosion?!”
“That blast…was it—”
“Core magic! They’ve somehow managed to weaponise core magic into some of their guided arrows!”
“Wait, what?!”
Hurriedly grabbing the mannacomm, Saxid angrily barked, “Stop speculating! What exactly did you see when the squadrons went down?!”
“It was a massive explosion, like a star flared into existence for the briefest of seconds—five whole squadrons were vaporised in an instant—”
“Shit, we’ve got several more guided arrows incoming! How much more core magic do they have?!”
“All squadrons, move to evade! We can’t take these many casualties at this rate!”
“Sir,” Mitan hurriedly interrupted, “might I make a suggestion?”
“Speak, but be quick.”
“The presence of Osean guided missiles suggests that they already know that we’re here, so our strategy on relying on the element of surprise is unfortunately no longer viable. The fact that our wyverns are also actively struggling against the enemy’s guided arrows despite us fighting them on our terms suggest that we’ll be taking too many unnecessary losses trying to use them as our main method of attack.”
“So you want me to recall the wyverns?”
“We’re going to need them to help defend our ships against the likely counterattack. If we can also get a few to at the very least reconnoitre the defences on Sand Island instead of simply raiding the airbase, we’ll know what exactly we’re going up against.”
Saxid frowned, his eyes focused on the maps on his desk. “You’d be risking the lives of the riders you choose to send as scouts, Mitan. Are you sure you want to make that suggestion?”
“They’ll be saving countless more lives than simply getting shot out of the sky right now, sir. And besides, there’s a chance that a few isolated riders might be less likely to be noticed than an entire formation.”
Recognizing the points made by his subordinate, the Fleet Captain sighed in acknowledgment. “Very well; make the order, but be quick about it.”
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“All wyvern knights, this is Commander Mitan. All squadrons that are no longer combat effective are to withdraw and return to the fleet immediately; Squadrons Two and Fifteen are to be given a new tasking. We’re calling off the aerial raid on Sand Island; we need you to instead assess and evaluate the defences at the island and see what’s bringing down our wyverns.”
“What?! Does the Fleet Captain want us to abandon our mission? What about our dead brothers-in-arms?!”
“Calm down, Astall—listen to the damn commands before you make your mouth sprout some random nonsense! Our traditional approach of invasion and conquest is clearly unfeasible under the current circumstances—we will need to adapt if we want to have a chance of making it out of this engagement alive. Squadrons Ten and Fifteen, I’m belaying that order: return to the fleet with the rest of the survivors—I’m going to investigate Sand Island myself.”
The wyvern knights throughout the sky turned to Magne in surprise. For the leader of their distinguished division to personally take the lead in what was quickly turning into a possible bloodbath was seemingly borderline suicidal—surely the unfortunate circumstances of their initial sortie hadn’t already gotten to him?
“Sir, but you’re our flight lead! We will gladly volunteer our lives if it means our fellow Parpaldians do not share our fate; we still need you in command, sir!”
“Negative, men; the losses that we’ve suffered are my responsibility for neglecting to account for the capabilities of our foes. Use the information I relay to you and your men wisely; your lives may depend upon it!”
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Three wyverns skimmed the surface of the ocean, their riders focused no longer on conquest but the salvation of their compatriots against a foe unlike any other in the history of their beloved Empire. Keeping their eyes trained throughout the sky and the distant horizon, Magne and his two escorts watched for a sign of the unseen foe that had nearly wiped them out—nothing solid had emerged just yet, but the distant streaks of clouds too linear and precise to be made by the will of the natural gods were a telling sign of their possible origin.
“Sir, is that Sand Island? Those towers…they’re bigger than anything I’ve ever seen!”
Magne’s eyes widened in shock as the three knights saw the Osean island for the very first time—the airbase itself was clearly similar in design to their Muan counterparts, but the countless buildings in the background were unlike anything the knight had ever seen in person. Milishial broadcasts were one thing, but to see buildings and fabled skyscrapers that put even the greatest buildings and palaces of Eshirant to shame were another…
“We’ve got a clear picture of the place, sir. Should we head back, or do we want to do a sortie in this place?”
“Us? Launching a sortie at this place? Look at this—we’ll need more than just the three of us if we’re going to amount to anymore more than a posthumous plaque back in Eshirant! We’re pulling back and letting Saxid and Mitan know about what we’re going up against—fire up that mannacomm and relay the information we have!”
“Magne, above us! Gods save us, what is that?!”
The sheer terror in his fellow knight’s voice all but screaming at him to look at what exactly the man had spotted, Magne frantically turned upwards, his face abruptly freezing in shock at the sight—
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“Sir, we just lost contact with Magne and his escorts!”
Mitan’s eyes widened in shock. “Even they didn’t make it?! Damn, he and his men were good knights!”
“No time to mourn just yet, Mitan,” Saxid quickly interrupted. “How far away from us were Magne and his escorts from us?”
“Eleven kilometres to our east, sir!”
“Alright, whatever it was that caught Magne was likely what also shot down our other wyverns—I want an eye on that madar at all times, got it? Have our remaining wyverns on full alert and prepare the anti-air cannons!”
“Sir, something just popped up—ten kilometres northeast of us and closing, fast!”
“What?!”
Rapidly turning to face the madar operator, Saxid barked, “What exactly is it? Do we have any indication of its heading?”
“I don’t know, sir—all that I know is that it’s huge and it’s coming right for us! We’ll have a visual reading in less than a few minutes—”
“Fleet Captain! Commander! Get on the deck right now, sirs! You’re going to need to see this!”
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A great white bird soared majestically across the sky, its wings wider and larger than anything Mitan and Saxid had ever seen, its propellers enabling the mighty beast to glide in the heavens with an unearthly near-silence to the countless sailors down below.
“Is that the fabled Arsenal Bird?!”
“Mother of god…that thing…it’s so huge…”
From its wings, dozens upon dozens of smaller objects detached and swirled swifty in the middle of the sky to unfurl their own miniature wings, before launching forward with an eerie silence—neither the rumble of a beast nor the crackles of a Muan propeller could be heard, yet the miniature spawn began to glide downwards—to intercept the fleet, Saxid realised, to his horror.
“Ancient Sorcerous Empire—man the anti-air cannons! Prepare for ground-to-air combat! Don’t just stand there—stop that thing before it strikes down our ships and kills every single one of us!”
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From the countless Parpaldian vessels, a cascade of explosions propelled dozens of magical projectiles upwards towards the great bird, erupting into a vibrant display of flashes and sparkles; the numerous Wyverns, although greatly reduced in number, unleashed a fiery maelstrom of green fireballs aimed at either the sizeable carrier or the innumerable spawn streaking downwards to the fleet.
“Wait, what’s that thing glowing above the—”
“Impact!”
For a few seconds, the Arsenal Bird vanished from the sight of the sailors below—thinking their attacks had dealt a blow to their unexpected foe, the Parpaldians cheered. From the bridge, Saxid quickly grabbed his spyglass and peered towards the sky in search of the telltale signs of a sizeable object about to crash into the ocean—
“No…”
A spherical shield surrounded the undamaged craft, having cleanly repulsed the entire Parpaldian barrage—the gleaming white paint shone in the distance, almost seemingly mocking of their frantic efforts. Mitan’s jaw dropped in shock.
“They’ve mastered shield magic?! What kind of complex sorcery is this?!”
“It’s the Ancient Sorcerous Empire! The Ancient Sorcerous Empire has returned! We’re all going to die!”
“Cease your panicking! Maintain discipline! Keep firing those cannons and prepare to intercept those metal wyverns! Use all our gems to get us past that thing!”
“Guided arrows inbound! Brace for impact!”
The Osean metal wyverns responded in kind to the Parpaldian attacks—the seas weaved and rumbled as a score of ships ruptured and erupted into flames, the screams of the dying barely audible amidst the roars of falling creatures and the whoosh of the constructs soaring past. From the nose of the aircraft, a bright blue light flashed towards—
“What the devil is that thing?! Tell the ships to get clear of that—!”
A blue arc of what seemed to be pure magic cleanly cut through the fleet, slicing cleanly through ships and carriers like a knife through butter. In less than a few seconds, over half of the remaining ships were bisected and began to sink or burst into flames—and the laser began to cut yet another path of destruction through the invading ships yet again. It was the apocalyptic sight that distracted Saxid and his men from the new onslaught of guided arrows, one of them seemingly larger than the others—
Right at the port of the Muraito lay the wyvern carrier Ludia, named after the sole Empress of Parpaldia from a century past. Throughout its thirty years of service, the vessel and its crew had all served the Imperial Crown with distinction, operating on some of the greatest campaigns in living memory: the defence of Duro against the Black Fleet, the failed Northern Rebellions, the Great Sea Creature Incident, and even the Cartalpas Crisis when the Mad King of Helvete launched a brazen attack against the nations of Elysia in a ludicrous act of delusion about his supposed divinity. For every sailor present, its continued survival no doubt meant the assured and inevitable victory of the Parpaldia Empire against whatever foe dared stand against it—a tradition that had continued to grow with each passing year.
“Guided arrows incoming! Take them out before we lose any more ships! Glory to Parpaldia, men, Glory to Parpaldia—”
A singular guided arrow, the largest ever seen in Elysia, slammed into the Ludia’s deck and punctured its hold, shredding into the hull and detonating in the blink of an eye—
The Ludia ruptured and exploded, a violent eruption of blue energy irradiating the vessel, its crew, and every single wyvern aboard and rocking every nearby vessel with a powerful blast akin to that of a catastrophic volcanic outburst. For some ships, the sheer discharge was enough to cause them to capsize, the explosion tilting their decks over the side; for others, their unstable magical cargoes were unleashed and produced their own smaller detonations—a cascade of blue, green, white, yellow, and red that signalled the end for countless vessels through the rapidly disintegrating fleet.
“The Ludia is gone! Gods help us, Ludia is gone!”
“What the devil was that that took it out?! Did anyone see that?”
“That was bigger than any cannon could have ever possibly fired! It was magic, some kind of magic!”
“Was that core magic?! Only something of that size could be magic of that scale!”
“Core magic?!”
“Core magic! They’ve actually weaponised core magic against us!”
“The Oseans are going to kill us all with core magic!”
“We’re all going to die! The Ancient Sorcerous Empire has returned for us all!”
“All is lost—flee, men, flee!”
In an instant, all semblance of cohesion and morale collapsed—every sailor not actively fighting for their lives began scrambling to escape the battlefield; several ships began to break formation and drift off, while others became dead in the water as their crews scrambled onto their lifeboats or simply leapt overboard in a frantic attempt to escape their pursuers. But the beast was remoreless—its guided arrows all found their marks, and the great beam of light vapourized everything caught in its path while its own spawn picked off what few survivors remained.
Watching the carnage from the Muraito, Saxid turned to his men. “Give the order to surrender or abandon ship.”
Mitan whirled around in shock. “Sir?”
“You heard what I said, Mitan—get as many men onto the rafts as soon as possible! None of our countermeasures are working against that thing, and hundreds of our own people are getting annihilated by the second! Save as many of our soldiers and get them into Osean custody, Commander—if they have as much mercy as their stories suggest, you’ll be able to safely bring them back to Parpaldia after this is all over. Don’t just gawk there, you idiot—go!”
“But what about you, Saxid?!”
“Someone needs to coordinate the evacuation efforts throughout the fleet and notify Eshirant about what’s happening, and I’m not leaving anyone behind for that! Get out of here, and get the order out before any more of our boys die!”
“Damn it! Sir, it’s been an honour!”
Mitan dashed onto the desk as yet another explosion rocked the ship; the man frantically waved at a nearby sailor, beckoning him and the other soldiers present. “Hey, both of you! Orders from Captain Saxid—strike colours and abandon ship! Same thing for everyone else in the fleet, at once!”
“What?! Are we not Parpaldians, ready to fight to the death?”
“Oh, so you want to die today?! Get yourself together and get the lifeboats ready—and have someone grab the magic gems and douse the ammunition before a guided arrow strikes the hold—”
A third explosion, this time more violent than the last, struck the ship—the entire rear half of the flagship from the bridge to the hold disappeared in a violent eruption of green light, vaporising everything within the immediate blast radius and knocking everyone else off of their feet. Almost immediately, the remaining front half of the Muraito began to list backwards, its fate all but certain to everyone onboard.
“Nevermind, belay that last order! Get to the lifeboats and abandon ship! Go, go, go!”
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“Hey, Parpaldian ships! Do you read me?”
From the raft he and his men had somehow managed to retrieve from the burning wreckage of the Muraito, Mitan glanced towards the portable mannacomm. Quickly raising the volume, the static was replaced by a clear voice—that of a middle-aged man, gruff but homely and affable like a comforting light in the distance. A vague barking noise could be heard in the background.
“If there’s anybody still alive out there, this is Colonel Wolfgang Buchner of the Sand Island Coast Guard—we’re willing to offer good food and warm shelter to any Parpaldian sailor who surrenders peacefully. Just raise a white flag or keep your hands up in the air when we send our boats over, will ya?”
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Eshirant, Parpaldia Empire — December 14, 2019
Echoes of footsteps and the muffled murmurs of officers and generals reverberated throughout the halls of the Imperial Palace as Emperor Ludius entered the meeting room. The proud and haughty attitudes of the Parpaldian generals had long since disappeared in the weeks following the attack on Eshirant and the subsequent invasion of Parpaldia, replaced with a near-supernatural fear—the sight of a singular beam of light eviscerating the mightiest beasts of their once-untouchable empire had shaken Eshirant to its core, and the stories of entire provinces surrendering or even outright welcoming the invading Oseans had not only shattered all pretences of a decisive Parpaldian victory but also saw the very existence of their beloved nation now at stake.
Sitting down on his throne, a visibly aggrieved Ludius turned to his officers. “Supreme Commander Arde, I understand that the invasion of Sand Island ended in failure. What caused our forces to be destroyed?”
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His face ashen, Arde rose from his seat to face the Emperor. “Your Majesty, our fleet approached Sand Island when they were attacked by the Oseans’ local defences. Based on the mannacomm broadcasts before we lost contact and the subsequent news broadcasts by the Oseans and the Milishials, it appears that they deployed some kind of superweapon—a massive flying wyvern carrier capable of launching over several dozen metal wyverns and equipped with its own arsenal of guided arrows and magical beams. Our forces had neither the capabilities nor the power to stop it from attacking them, and were all wiped out without any losses on the enemy’s side.”
“So these are the fabled Arsenal Birds?”
“But…that’s impossible! Surely…”
Groans and gasps of disbelief broke out amongst the officials present, but a hand raised by Ludius quickly silenced his audience. “Do we have any further information about this superweapon?”
Director Vindus stood up, reaching inside his coat and pulling out a magazine—its austere and minimalist cover text clearly distinguishing it as Osean in origin. “Your Majesty, our spies in Altaras and Qua-Toyne were able to retrieve documents such as these from a local store prior to the failed assault on Sand Island—the details are available for those in this room who would like a closer look or would like to refresh their memories, but suffice it to say that there are at least two of these carriers within the Osean Federation itself, capable of monitoring and responding to any threat within its borders in a matter of hours. If we had been able to get this to Eshirant sooner, then perhaps we might have had a chance at either minimising casualties amongst the fleet or even aborting the invasion—”
“You do not believe that our men would have prevailed against such a weapon?!”
The spymaster sighed. “At the risk of sounding treasonous, I fear that our plans to retaliate against the Oseans for their assault on Eshirant were doomed from the start. Our efforts should have instead been redirected towards causing as many casualties in Centris Island or elsewhere along our coastline, as per Arde’s original plan.”
Taking a deep breath, Ludius was forced to admit defeat. “Very well. Clearly, the Oseans have demonstrated that their weapons are as deadly as advertised, and that we ourselves are unable to strike as decisively at their homelands as they have done to us—our priorities, much unfortunately, therefore have to change. Lady Remille, have we been able to secure the safe return of our men from Altaras?”
Shaking her head in disappointment, shaken by the events of the past few days and the sheer obtuseness of her Altaran and Osean counterparts, Remille turned towards her superior. “The delegates of the IUN refuse to hand over our people unless we offer our immediate surrender. Director Kaios has been at work developing a possible framework for a ceasefire between ourselves and the Osean coalition, but I find many of the terms on offer to be questionable towards our goals beyond this war.”
Kaios glanced at his superior. “Remille, I—”
“Director Kaios, what terms do the Oseans demand from us?”
The ambassador sighed and rose to his feet. “In return for an immediate cessation of hostilities, the cessation of economic and political sanctions, the preservation of the Parpaldian state and its government, and a definite commitment for Parpaldia’s future integration into the IUN, Oured and its associates in the Assembly demand full independence for our colonies and the abolition of slavery, as well as financial compensation to the Kingdom of Altaras for the economic, military, and humanitarian losses we dealt them during our original invasion. Certain key individuals will likely also be arrested for violating diplomatic protocols and committing genocide against several of our vassal states prior to the transference of the Osean Federation—but only after a final treaty is agreed upon and signed by all parties currently involved in this war.”
All eyes turned to Remille, who was under no illusion whatsoever as to what “key individual” Harling and his associates were no doubt referring to. Her eyes shone in anger and a hint of fear as she quickly glanced at Ludius, upon her face a silent plea for protection against whatever repercussions might arise in the war’s aftermath.
“Director,” the Emperor began, “it appears that you may have been too lenient to the Oseans in your attempts at reaching a peaceful conclusion to this conflict. Restart your negotiations from scratch—we have already lost thousands of men to the captivity of barbarians, and it would seem inappropriate at best to consign even another single soul to oblivion for their sake. Is that clear?”
“Your Excellency,” Kaios replied, “scrapping the current deal as it stands also risks consigning the people under General Sius’s command to a lifetime of suffering and humiliation. Altaras and Osea have made it very clear that handing over the instigators of the failed invasion in return for the safe return of our own people is a non-negotiable. Much as I would like to—”
“They would be vain enough to force us to adhere to their terms?! If there is no other way to bring our men home other than through either treason or war, then why do you continue your efforts to appease our foes?! Make it clear that you will end your negotiations if the Oseans and Altarans recognize that we will hand over no one, not a single person, to eternal confinement or certain death. Is that clear?”
“…very well, Your Excellency. But would you be willing to risk that fate for every other Parpaldian in Altaras as well?”
“We will prove our might through our valour and resolve in the streets of Eshirant, for we have no other choice. Are there any other objections?”
The officers present grumbled at Ludius’s decision, but chose not to argue otherwise. To leave the valiant men of Parpaldia in the hands of the people of Altaras was a bitter pill to swallow, but the Emperor had a point—at the end of the day, General Sius and his men still needed an Empire to return to. The thousands of loyal soldiers under captivity would eventually make their way home one way or another, but Ludius and his people would first need to fight to keep their homeland alive.
Satisfied, the Emperor turned to other matters. “Arde, about our situation in the home front; how far have the Oseans advanced from Duro?”
The commander sighed in frustration. “The main advance is currently making its way along the coast towards the capital, sweeping aside any kind of resistance we can bring against it. We’re also receiving reports of smaller forces spreading out to the other provinces, providing military and logistical support to the various rebellions taking place throughout our northern regions—based on our estimates, we expect that they’ll have linked up with Relm’s forces by the end of the week.”
“And our colonies?”
Arde’s voice was grim. “We’ll have lost complete control of all our provinces outside of the Heartlands by the end of the year.”
“Then we will have to rethink our strategies once more. Centuries of conquests and planning, erased in a matter of weeks…will our capital hold against a ground invasion?”
Strategic Chief Martal was quick to respond, “Not without significant preparations, Your Excellency. We would need a significant portion of our entire army and navy to be redeployed to Eshirant immediately, to say nothing of preparing what few Wyvern Overlords we have left for combat. Such an effort would require us to abandon several key towns and provinces as well—and this is under the assumption that we would somehow be able to prevail against the Oseans’ technology. Much as it pains me to admit it, we may have to consider evacuating you and the Imperial government from Eshirant to a more secure location until the current situation is resolved—”
“Evacuate Eshirant?! Do you not realise how that would look to the entirety of Elysia?” Remille had risen from her seat, her face hot with anger and humiliation. “We would be like rats, surrendering our most prized possession and hiding in the refuse of the backwater provinces in some vague hope of a miracle—”
“Peace, Remille! We have our castles and ancient fortresses from the Days of Strife where we can hide away until fortune favours us again—or your own efforts provide us with a settlement that will restore our rightful position in Elysia.” Ludius raised a pointed eyebrow, silently reproaching the diplomat for her outburst. “If the Oseans are to reach Eshirant, we will hold this Palace for as long as possible and evacuate only at the last moment. As for you, Lady Remille, you will continue your efforts to persuade the Osean government to stand down; if we are to be separated after the fall of the capital, then I shall ensure that each and every person in this room understands the role that they have been given.”
Sufficiently chastised, Remille leaned forward in acknowledgment. “Understood, Your Majesty.”
Turning to the other people present, Ludius began to address the individual departments. “Our research teams are to begin relocating their efforts from the provinces around Eshirant to the ancient castles further inland—if we can understand and even reverse-engineer the Milishials’ weapons or even those of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire, we would be able to preserve our future, no matter how small or insignificant.”
Several officials nodded.
“Our naval forces are to be kept at port and moved to long-term storage, in preparation for our future campaigns after the current war with Osea. The casualties we have suffered both in our own territories and beyond our seas also requires us to reorganise our remaining men—Supreme Commander Arde, you are to pull your men out of all provinces already under threat of occupation by the Oseans and their allies and reposition them throughout the Heartland. For our citizens, you are to inform all Parpaldians outside of Eshirant to return home at once—the men are to be pressed into service at once and reassigned where either necessary or where their skills permit, and the women are to be tasked with providing as much food and sustenance as possible for the wartime effort. Is that clear?”
The main doors opened to reveal a young aide, who quickly walked towards the throne. “Your Majesty, this just came in from the new Imperial Capital Defense Base—some kind of communiqué from the eastern provinces. You might also want to read this, sirs…”
Quickly glancing through the message, Ludius’s face turned white. “They dare—?!”
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We, the Governors of the Parpaldia Empire, with our signatures hereby recognize the following:
That a state of war currently exists between the Parpaldia Empire and the Osean Federation;
That the actions of the Osean Federation in the Kingdom of Altaras and Eshirant serve as an insult to the dignity and image of Parpaldia;
That the Parpaldia Empire seeks only to preserve its dignity and its image in the face of the arrival of the Osean Federation;
That the subsequent actions of the Osean Federation have become an active threat to Parpaldia’s goal;
That events in Duro, Eshirant, Centris Island, and the Sea of Parpa have demonstrated that a resolution to the ongoing conflict can no longer be resolved through an outright military victory in favour of the Parpaldia Empire;
That the failure of the Parpaldia Empire to defend its borders has resulted in the first invasion of Parpaldian soil in over a thousand years;
That any failure by the Parpaldia Empire to further contain the current threat will place the future and even survival of the Parpaldia Empire and its subjects into question;
That our loyalty to the Imperial Crown remains absolute, but our responsibilities to the peoples of Parpaldia cannot be ignored;
That we recognise that any actions perceived as disloyalty and treason will likely result in our deaths, regardless of the motivations of our actions;
That all possible diplomatic and military alternatives have already been made and proven insufficient or irrelevant by the recent actions of both the Osean Federation and the Imperial Crown;
That without any form of intervention on behalf of the Imperial Crown, the people of Parpaldia face starvation or outright annihilation under the hands of the Osean invaders or as a result of their inevitable occupation;
That the traditional methods of Parpaldian diplomacy and warfare will no longer suffice in delaying the Empire’s current course, and that the Governors, in order to maintain the dignity, image, and survival of the Parpaldia Empire, and having already exhausted its efforts to enlighten and elucidate the Imperial Crown towards the current situation, are now faced with no other option;
That with the current situation, the Governors agree as follows:
That in light of the magnitude of the crisis facing the Parpaldia Empire and its territories, the Governors of Parpaldia shall no longer comply with the orders of the Imperial Crown to wage war against the Osean Federation and its allies in the International United Nations;
That all Parpaldian forces in the Provinces under the jurisdiction of the Governors shall cease hostilities with the Osean Federation, comply with their demands, and refocus their efforts on protecting all Imperial Subjects and maintaining order until the current crisis is resolved;
That the Governors call upon the Imperial Government to resolve the crisis facing the Empire and restore its dignity through diplomatic means and negotiation, or else face the complete and utter annihilation of the Parpaldia Empire;
That the Governors, in light of maintaining the dignity, image, and survival of the Empire, formally request the Osean Federation and its allies to show clemency towards its people and to spare their provinces from the full brunt of their retribution, to stay their hands and soften their hearts in their invasion of Parpaldia;
That the Governors call for a full end to the state of war that exists between the Osean Federation and the Parpaldia Empire;
That the Governors recognize the magnitude of their actions and the consequences that may follow their statements in this declaration, and agree to all that is written with their full support and nothing less than complete and utter loyalty to Parpaldia and the Imperial Crown.
Signed…
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Bright Hill, Oured, Osean Federation — December 15, 2019
“How many governors agreed to this?”
“At least twenty-three, Mr. President,” Edwards replied. “The vast majority of their provinces lie along the eastern coast of Philades, mainly near the areas already under IUN occupation. We’ve also had a few signatures from a few other provinces from elsewhere in the Empire, but the vast majority appear to be either leaning more towards a neutral position, are still loyal to the government in Eshirant, or are already too busy actively dealing with internal rebellions or the simultaneous invasions by our allies. Not a vast majority, but significant enough that the Imperial Crown should start to be worried.”
Bartlett frowned. “Something we might be able to exploit, then. But what about the people they’re supposedly representing? Do we know about their opinions on the matter?”
“Based on what we’ve heard from the locals, it’s a bit of a mix. A significant number of the provinces already have close economic ties with the rest of the Third Civilization Area and want to preserve their connections; a few others seem to be aware of how Parpaldia’s faring and are mainly there to keep the peace or curry favour with us for whatever postwar settlement is agreed upon between us and Eshirant. Then there’s the colonies—anti-Parpaldian sentiment’s fairly high amongst the populaces, and for some governors, being associated with the people responsible for restoring their independence and freedoms’s essentially a quick ticket to either being recognized and celebrated as one of the good guys or—at the very least—a dignified exit with their heads still attached to their necks.”
“Ah, opportunists, then?”
“Outside of Eshirant, the war’s outcome’s becoming increasingly clear; our allies alongside the rest of Elysia are already asking questions about what Osea’s long-term intentions are with Parpaldia and the Third Civilisation Region. They’ll want hard answers from us, especially with the peace negotiations we’re expecting the Foreign Affairs Department to soon agree too. Did Delegate Clarkson notify you about the Milishials’ offer?”
“What, that superweapons deal we turned down?”
“No, the new one they publicly announced on MNN today—their offer to mediate peace negotiations between us and Parpaldia. Either in Runepolis or potentially in Cartalpas, as a forerunner to their World Leadership Conference.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that one? Another attempt of them cozying up to us in return for some fancy Gründer tech?”
“We’ve examined the logistics behind running peace talks there—it’s very much feasible on our end, unless Harling’s got some kind of objection to it,” Edwards drily replied.
“Oh, don’t talk about Vincent like that—we both know he had a point! We might share the Milishials’ concerns about whatever threat the Ravernals might pose, but they seem determined as ever to demonstrate their own prestige to us in the process; working with them to reverse-engineer the satellites Pilgrim Two managed to capture would definitely be useful, but we’re still going to have to gauge what exactly they know about them at this point…”
“Wouldn’t cooperating with them to help understand and prepare as soon as possible prove to be beneficial to everyone involved in the long run? Even our Arsenal Birds and Advanced Dominance Fighter programs are but basic prototypes at this point—shooting down wyverns and swatting large monsters are one thing, but actively dealing with a hostile magical superpower nearly on par with a pre-Hoffnung Belka isn’t exactly something we alone can come out of unscathed in our current position.”
“Then we work with what we have and improve upon them as we continue our exploits in Elysia—if the Milishials are willing to offer us something solid, then maybe we can also fill them in about what we’ve got. We have the data from our sorties in Topa, Esperanto, and Eshirant, right?”
“Yes.”
“And the research efforts to crack into the Ravernal satellites and the revival beacons are still taking place aboard Pilgrim Two, correct?”
“Nowhere near complete, but they’re still making progress.”
“And the new Space Peacekeeping Force—wait, we’re calling it the Lighthouse Division now, aren’t we? We’re still going ahead with those, right?”
“Once the war ends and the Arkbird’s launched into orbit, yes.”
“Then we don’t have anything to worry about, just yet. We’ll let the crises come to us, and then we’ll adapt and change accordingly.”
The officer nodded. “Roger. Now, about the war at hand…”
“Alright, let’s stick to our plan for now as we previously agreed upon—locate as many of these governors as possible and see if we can identify someone who’s acting as their main representative; if we can also secure Director Kaios into our custody, then we’ll also have a potential asset for the postwar Parpaldian government. In the meantime, we’ll be continuing our advance towards Eshirant and securing any POWs both we encounter in Philades and Sand Island while Harling smoothens things over with the rest of our coalition partners.”
Edwards sighed. “Very well. So, will the peace talks still take place in Selatapura as originally planned?”
“You bet. Now, do you have the risk assessment for that particular plan?”
“You know as much as I do how much of a headache completing that’s going to be, Jack…”
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Great Eastern Countries Conference, Qua Toyne Principality — December 11, 2019
“Ambassadors, this meeting is once again called into session. Now, as per our previously agreed schedule, today has been dedicated to discussions in regards to the Osean Federation and the ongoing conflict with the Parpaldia Empire—Ambassador Harling has agreed to submit himself to questions on behalf of his country, and will now take queries from his fellow delegates.”
A finely attired beastwoman rose from her seat; recognising the individual in question, Kanata smiled and nodded in warm acknowledgment. “The chair recognises Ambassador Awan of the Quila Kingdom?”
“General-Secretary Kanata, my thanks. Ambassador Harling, before anything else, I believe I speak for the rest of this Conference when I say that you and your country’s presence is an unprecedented honour for us.”
Harling tilted his head forwards in acknowledgment.
“However, I do believe that I also speak for the rest of the Conference when we ask, why? Why come to an event hosted by a non-superpower when none of your counterparts have previously never bothered to attend, let alone respond to our invitations?”
“Thank you for the question, Ambassador. While we cannot explain or justify the motivations of the Muans or the other nations outside of the Third Civilization Region, the Osean Federation wishes to distinguish itself differently from what others would consider to be its counterparts elsewhere in Elysia. The Great Eastern Conference is a chance for the people of the continents of Rodenius and Philades to discuss the affairs and futures that await their respective nations; as a fellow neighbour, we believe it to be our responsibility to listen to the concerns that others may have about our presence and to work with them in order to develop a mutually beneficial arrangement that satisfies all parties involved. Does that answer your question?”
A long-haired man with a noticeable moustache was next to rise. Nodding to the individual in question, Kanata announced, “The chair recognises Ambassador Seylers of the Qua-Toyne Principality.”
“Ambassador Harling, your government has called on the other members of your coalition to bring in more of their armed forces to join the invasion of Parpaldia as a ‘peacekeeping force.’ Perhaps you could further elaborate on the nature of this effort? We share your desires for a quick end to the threat that Parpaldia poses to us all, but we are concerned that our men and women may be merely used in the field as auxiliaries or even, if I may be blunt, as cannon fodder.”
Murmurs grew amongst the delegates present—many of the questions, Harling suspected, had already been agreed upon beforehand and assigned to particular nations. Even with the Federation’s growing reputation for openness and the clear economic prosperity brought upon Qua-Toyne and its neighbours, a hint of caution still remained, it seemed; the legacy of the Parpaldians and their counterparts continued to dominate the minds of the Third Civilization Region.
Osea had yet a lot more work to do, Harling realised. Recognising the task before him, the ambassador quickly turned and nodded in acknowledgement before devising a comprehensive response.
“The Osean Federation recognizes that its position in the conflict makes the presence of other non-superpower nations on the ground in Philades seem superfluous, but we recognise that we, again, need to differentiate ourselves from what some would see as our counterparts elsewhere in Elysia. While our motivations may seem to be partly borne out of retaliation, our primary objective is and remains the same: the neutering and dissolution of a regime hostile to its neighbours and the continued existence of this region’s economic prosperity. What happened in Eshirant to myself was an unfortunate consequence of our attempts to achieve that goal, but trust me when I say the machinations of Lady Remille have in no way changed our approach.”
At the mention of Harling’s own personal brush with the more brutal aspects of Parpaldian diplomacy, the other diplomats shuddered. Too many of their colleagues had been in the same situation and lacked the sheer firepower possessed by the Oseans—a few minds then turned to Paganda, where stories of some new nation besmirched by their ignorant rulers had promptly wiped out both the entire kingdom and even their Leiforian overlords continued to circulate. For a man who had narrowly avoided death at the hands of such a brutal lady to still cling to his beliefs of peaceful coexistence was nothing short of admirable, but could the same be said about the nation he represented?
“To answer your question, the role of a peacekeeper is not to wage war on behalf of a singular nation, but to inhibit the aggression of all powers in the wake of a conflict—our aim for this task force is not to directly and unilaterally impose a new postwar regime on the occupied Parpaldian lands, but to enable the people within these lands to reestablish their own nations, cultures, and civilizations without foreign interference—Osean, Parpaldian, Muan, Milishial, or otherwise. To this end, we desire not just mere soldiers, but builders and healers, scholars and mages—people who can help rebuild and repair the cities, neighbourhoods, and communities ravaged by the Parpaldians’ conquests or caught as collateral in the Osean Federation’s advance. Anything otherwise, and we would be no more different than the Parpaldians themselves in their military campaigns.”
Kanata glanced at his colleague. “Does the Ambassador have any other queries?”
“Thank you, Ambassador Harling; that will be all.”
Seylers sat back down; a grey-haired man with a prominent goatee stood up from across the room. Harling quickly recognised the individual in question—his nation, while an official member of the IUN, was significantly more aloof than most in regards to the organisation’s projects in the Third Civilization Region.
“Very well, the chair recognizes Ambassador Neeson of the Mao Kingdom.”
“Thank you, Kanata. Ambassador Harling, your presence is an honour and your objectives commendable, but when will this proposed mission end? If you desire us to send men to Parpaldia to dismantle Ludius’s empire, how long will it take for your superiors to determine the situation to be sufficient to allow us to bring our people home? Would it not seem like some kind of military occupation or an outright conquest of Philades should your soldiers remain in Eshirant after the fall of the Parpaldian government?”
Harling nodded. “As you know, the objectives of Oured in regards to the war are threefold: the military defeat of Parpaldia and the indictment of its government for its atrocities, the dismantlement of the Parpaldian occupation of the nations of Philades, and the self-determination of the peoples of Parpaldia. The first is expected to take place immediately after Eshirant capitulates, at which point we will either have the Imperial government in our custody or they will have surrendered; the second and third will be finalised in a formal peace treaty by the beginning of next year. I’m not at liberty to provide any hard dates at this time, but rest assured that we’re simply looking for parties who would be interested in such an effort for now.”
“Wouldn’t the military defeat of Parpaldia mean that their ability to interfere with the affairs of their former colonies would be sufficiently diminished to no longer require our presence? Why ask for us when the people of Philades are capable of fending for themselves?”
“We’re talking about over seventy different colonies and protectorates, all with different cultures, populations, and motivations, Ambassador. If we were to simply fend for themselves, we would be allowing centuries of festering claims based on irredentism, revanchism, and ethnic divisions to cascade and erupt into a catastrophic circle of conflict; not only would the situation serve to destabilise the entire Third Civilisation Area, but the resulting power vacuum would provide an opportunity for both powers within and without Philades to take advantage of these nations and gain influence—or any future Parpaldian government to make moves to regain its former territories.”
Neeson sighed. “You make compelling points, Ambassador Harling, but are there really no solid dates or any other hard numbers on this peacekeeping effort that you can provide? If not, then I’m afraid that my government will have to regretfully decline your request for now, unless we and our counterparts would be able to have a final say in what our people will be doing and for how long they will be in Philades.”
“Then perhaps your government would like to assist us in developing these details? There was an announcement that was to be made at the conclusion of the Conference, but I suppose it would be prudent to make it now—I am pleased to announce that the Osean Federation is now prepared to begin the process of beginning peace talks as soon as possible between itself, the Parpaldia Empire, and all other parties currently involved in this conflict.”
Murmurs of surprise echoed throughout the room. Looking around at the various reactions of the other delegates—astonishment, shock, excitement, anticipation—Harling smiled and continued his announcement.
“An official statement will be made by President Bartlett following the declaration of a ceasefire or the capitulation of Eshirant, but as of right now, the Osean Federation would like to formally extend a full invitation to all members of this conference to join us in Selatapura from the first of January onwards—as the nation responsible for bringing an end to centuries of Parpaldian domination in the Third Civilization Area, we believe it to be our responsibility to listen to the concerns of our fellow neighbours and work together to ensure a smooth transition of power from that of a singular entity to a collective of nations with a common goal: a recognition of our own freedoms and liberties, of the right to exist without interference and foreign aggression, without the brutal atrocities and genocidal retaliation that has dominated Philades and Rodenius for all these years. Our presence in the Conference is a step towards that end, but we would be grateful for your presence this upcoming New Year in Selatapura, if you would help us establish a permanent solution to the problem that now lies before us.”
Even with the surprising news, the ambassador from the Mao Kingdom still saw cause for concern. “Ambassador Harling, your words are far more than what any Parpaldian envoy in your place would even think of considering. But, I ask, what about the other superpowers of Elysia? Even beyond their own respective areas, their influence spreads far into the Third Civilization Area—how can our words here mean anything in comparison to what they have to say about what happens to the people of Rodenius and Philades after the war?”
This was an angle that Harling and his colleagues had long anticipated, and he gracefully nodded in acknowledgment at Ambassador Neeson’s query. “Mu and the Holy Milishial Empire may have their concerns—and they will be duly noted and taken into account during the peace negotiations—but their own respective goals are ultimately secondary to those of the inhabitants of the Third Civilization Area. These are our lands and homes—not just of the Oseans, but those of the Qua-Toynans, the Mao, the Fennese, the Topanese, of every nation and civilization that coexists within these lands. And if they should find cause to contest your—and by extension, our—claims? Well, I believe that what they will witness before their very eyes will likely convince them otherwise.”
“But how, exactly?”
Harling smiled. “Well, Ambassador Neeson, let me put it this way—how would you, on behalf of your nation, like to see the entirety of Elysia from a hundred thousand kilometres above the surface of this world?”
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Osean Broadcasting Corporation — December 20, 2019
In an official statement, President Bartlett confirmed that the IUN-led invasion of the Parpaldia Empire is now on track to capture the capital of Eshirant by Christmas Day.
With support for the Imperial government already at an all-time low following the secession of most of its colonies and the unilateral declaration of ceasefire from the Governors of Eastern Parpaldia, the President stated that he and the rest of the Osean military are confident that the fall of the former superpower’s capital would likely be more than sufficient to force the Empire to capitulate—already, negotiations are underway in the Assembly of Nations over a joint proposal by attendees of the recent Great Eastern Countries Conference to begin preparing peace talks with Parpaldia in Selatapura. Delegates for the Holy Milishial Empire expressed concerns about this joint proposal, but their own resolution for a similar conference in their country was defeated by a significant margin in the Assembly.
Speaking on behalf of the HME, Foreign Affairs Minister Phiam had this to say: “We are disappointed by the lack of cooperation between ourselves and the peoples of the Third Civilization Area. The fall of a superpower and the rise of its replacement is no small matter, and is in fact a situation that requires the presence of nations such as Mu and ourselves. We would have hoped that the World Leadership Conference might be an ideal setting to establish a new framework for peace between all parties, but it seems that we still have much more work to prove so.”
When locals throughout the Third Civilisation Area were interviewed about the current situation, opinions were mixed but did appear to share a sense of apprehension towards the Milishials’ attempts in involvement. A dwarf working as part of reconstruction efforts in Altaras had this to say:
“What, those elves wanted to butt into other people’s businesses again? They never showed any interest in us folk whenever the Parpaldians decided they wanted to conquer another kingdom, and now they’re all about keeping the peace? Hogwash, I tell you—they just can’t stand not being the ones in charge of everything for once. Now, the Oseans—at least they’re actually making an effort to listen to us!”
A Parpaldian merchant and his Muan companion in the occupied city of Duro had similar thoughts:
“Look, I don’t know what to tell you—every other Parpaldian will agree with me when I say the Oseans went too far with blowing up our compatriots in Altaras, but Remille definitely made a mistake thinking executing your ambassador was a good idea. I’ve been to Selatapura—gods, even Mudei here’s been to Selatapura with me a few times, and it’s likely all but clear by now that Ludius somehow had no idea about who he was dealing with. Those Milishials? If they really want to be helpful, the least they could have done was give us a bit more of a heads up well before any of this happened—”
“What, that MNN special didn’t account for anything?”
“Well, how exactly do you react to seeing that crazy Lighthouse of all things right next door?!”
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Letter from Gründer Industries to Bright Hill — December 24, 2019
…the overall piggyback process remains far more elusive than even our supercomputers can achieve at this point in time, but the new algorithms we recently implemented have seemingly made a breakthrough. The problem at this time lies not through the complexity of the firewall itself—such an issue can be resolved with time—but the sheer scale of the security programs used to protect the Ravernal satellites from external interference.
Our computers need a larger, more powerful system capable of coordinating a simultaneous attack on every one of the key weak points in the system—both we and our competitors in GR and nuCOMM have already begun work on constructing such a system, but such an effort as of right now could easily take years to accomplish without any other developments. Of course, we will continue to notify you about progress regarding Project QT-001; Doctor Schroeder and his assistants' work have proven most invaluable at this point.
Our proposal for commandeering an entire civilization’s orbital weapons system network remains viable, in spite of the logistical challenges before us—if the necessary resources and manpower remain available to Gründer Industries and its partners. However, the implications of the technology required could potentially go beyond even a basic stopgap measure for national defence: imagine disabling the entire technological infrastructure of whole empires and civilisations alike, ending wars mere microseconds before they even start; imagine FTL communications between Oured and Otatheit or from Selatapura to Saturn; imagine a network with the potential to surpass even the Internet through sheer scale and speed alone. We lie not just on the cusp of a new age of information and data, but on an opportunity to potentially surpass even the Ravernals themselves by decades…