Zion returned to Central Asia, only to be greeted by a plague outbreak among his soldiers. They were riddled with PTSD and mental disorders, and he couldn't believe his eyes. “What is this? This can’t be happening! All men should be gearing up for the big push next spring!” he bellowed, frustration boiling over.
Meanwhile, one of Zion's loyalists, Keith, decided to take matters into his own hands. He formed a new department called the “New Vision Movement” and set out to every city in the newly conquered territories, including the old ones in North America. His mission? To burn any books related to mental health and sex. “These topics are bad for soldier morale!” he declared, convinced that soldiers were just making excuses.
“This is a free nation! A free country!” Keith shouted, rallying the townsfolk. “But you can’t talk about religion, study, politics, race, or sexuality! Anything else is freedom of speech! You’re free to discuss the optimal angle for stacking ration packs, or the proper way to polish your boots. That’s the kind of intellectual discourse we encourage!”
With that, he ordered a massive book burning in the town square, flames licking the sky as the old texts turned to ash. “Out with the old, in with the new!” he proclaimed, as the new ideology of the Red Nation spread like wildfire, demanding everyone prepare for total war.
Keith voice ringing out across the crowd. "These books preach weakness! They speak of self-doubt, of introspection! Such things have no place in a nation forged in the fires of war!" He gestured to a statue of Caesar. "Caesar demands strength! Caesar demands obedience! And Caesar demands victory!"
The crowd, mostly silent, watched the flames rise. Some wore expressions of genuine belief, others of fear. The burnings served a dual purpose: eliminating "undesirable" ideas and reminding the population of the consequences of nonconformity. Any soldier caught showing signs of "weakness" – anxiety, nightmares, even grief – faced not sympathy, but re-education, or worse.
At the Crescent Alliance base in Xian, Alam and Nkosi stood before a large monitor, strategizing for their upcoming offensive.
“I plan to attack Novosibirsk in early December. Are you with me?” Alam announced, determination etched across his face.
“Absolutely,” Nkosi replied, his eyes glinting with enthusiasm. “Striking at the onset of winter gives us an edge. The cold will hinder the Red Nation's response, and we can catch them off guard.”
“True, but they’re well-fortified,” Alam cautioned, his brow furrowed. “A tough battle awaits. If we succeed, we can isolate Zion’s forces in Persia and Central Asia.”
“Exactly. Cutting off their forces would be a major victory. We need a solid plan to execute this effectively,” Nkosi agreed, nodding vigorously.
As they reviewed the fortress layout on the monitor, Alam marveled at its unconventional hexagonal design, which allowed for mutual support among bases. “Impressive work ethic on their part. They built this quickly,” he noted.
“Indeed. But we can exploit their defenses. I like your idea of redirecting our attacks to keep them guessing,” Nkosi replied, a grin spreading across his face.
“Right. The best defense is a good offense. We’ll keep the pressure on them,” Alam said, his voice steady.
“How many troops and resources can we commit to this offensive?” Nkosi asked, his tone serious.
“We need to go all in. If we fail, we might not recover after winter,” Alam warned, the weight of the situation settling in.
“I understand the stakes. We’ll mobilize everything we have to ensure victory,” Nkosi assured him.
“Good. I’ll use every trick in the book. They’ll regret stepping into our territory,” Alam said, fire igniting in his eyes.
Later, at the training ground, Alam summoned his new generals. What started as a small group of seven had swelled to thirty-five, a testament to his growing command. He paced in front of them, observing their postures and expressions.
“Alright! One mind! One objective! One target! One soul! Repeat after me!” Alam commanded, his enthusiasm infectious.
The generals echoed in unison, their voices booming. “ONE MIND! ONE OBJECTIVE! ONE TARGET! ONE SOUL!”
“Good!” Alam declared, grabbing a machine gun. “I know all of you have basic military knowledge, but we need a unified military doctrine. Since you come from different backgrounds, let’s tailor our strategies. For example…” He pointed at a general sporting a furry hat. “You must order your men to fight hit-and-run.”
Then he turned to another, a stout general in a coat. “You should prefer a Fabian strategy. We have different approaches in battle, but cohesion is key. Initiative is important, but in this war, cohesion is priority.”
The generals nodded, absorbing his words. Alam was confident that they could achieve a unified doctrine, blending their unique skills into a formidable force.
“Now let’s sit in a circle,” Alam instructed, positioning himself at the center with the machine gun raised. “I ask you, besides killing the enemy, what else can this gun do?”
The generals pondered for a moment before one spoke up. “It can be used as a psychological weapon, striking fear into the enemy’s heart. The sound of gunfire can demoralize them, creating chaos and increasing our chances of victory. It can also serve as a communication device, with different firing patterns signaling our units.”
“Very good!” Alam exclaimed, excitement bubbling in his voice. “It keeps their heads down and discourages them from peeking out—unless they're stupid or brazenly brave! In this war, we’re going offensive. Training sharpshooters takes time, and pouring them into battle is costly. We’ll mix our tactical approach with detailed troop management because we might be in this for another year. We’ll assign conscripts with light machine guns to provide suppressive fire while our trained sharpshooters take out their firing positions. Our military doctrine will utilize machine guns not just to kill, but to flush out enemy positions and suppress fire. I’ve even designed a less powerful but cost-effective ammo for machine guns that will benefit us in the long run.”
The generals nodded, impressed by Alam's innovative thinking. “I’m not cruel enough to use young conscripts as mere bait—most of us are conscripts too,” he added with a chuckle. “With balanced distribution of better armor for machine gunners and overhauling our machine gun teams, our approach will be solid. Flash out and fire—FFF!”
Fang spoke up, “It’s commendable that you’re considering the safety of our young conscripts. Your doctrine ensures we minimize losses while maximizing the effectiveness of our machine gun teams.”
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“Exactly! Now, classic debate—how do we take down enemy strong positions? Our artillery lacks the punch against their armor and sentries. We’ve learned this the hard way. We need new solutions,” Alam said, his tone serious.
Fang nodded. “Sir, may I make a suggestion?”
“Speak,” Alam replied.
“Instead of relying solely on artillery, what if we used unconventional methods? Infiltrators, sabotage, and psychological warfare could create disorder among their ranks, opening opportunities for us to attack. These methods require fewer resources and could be more effective.”
“Good opening, Fang,” Alam said, a spark of interest in his eyes. “I propose a new tech that could change the battlefield forever. I call it the Dirty Launcher. It’s similar to the mud launcher but contains bioluminescent material that generates intense heat without fire. It would make their positions uncomfortably hot, potentially overheating their weapons. Gunpowder could explode on contact with this... dirty substance.”
Fang’s eyes widened. “Whoa! That’s revolutionary! Not only destructive but also unconventional. The heat could render their sentries and pillboxes useless. Plus, it’s a cost-effective resource investment. I’m in awe of your creativity, sir.”
“Watch this,” Alam said, placing a machine gun in an open field and leading the generals to a safe distance, all wearing safety goggles. He opened a crate containing a weapon resembling a Panzerfaust from WWII.
The generals watched in awe as Alam aimed and fired. A bright green blast shot out, hitting the machine gun and disintegrating it in seconds. The generals stood speechless, their minds racing at the weapon’s power.
“This is our military secret. Don’t let even our allies know,” Alam instructed, his tone serious.
Fang nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir. I assure you, the secret of the Dirty Launcher will remain with us. We will use it to ensure our victory over the Red Nation.”
Later, in the command center, a detailed holographic display of eight Zion bases in Novosibirsk filled the room with a ghostly glow. The base, nestled in the heart of Siberia, was a heavily fortified stronghold.
“Novosibirsk is indeed a heavily fortified stronghold,” Fang observed, his eyes scanning the visual. “Imposing walls, reinforced with steel, encircle the base. The factory sprawl’s gargantuan smokestacks belch steam into the sky, while freight trains snake through, unloading vital resources.”
Alam nodded, adding, “And the anti-aircraft batteries bristle with missiles, guarding their airspace. This is not an easy target.”
“Indeed,” Fang agreed. “The command center is humming with activity. They have a well-organized command structure, and the underground network provides secret escape routes. Their armored trains patrol the railways.”
“Let’s not forget their hexagonal layout,” Alam said, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Each base can support the others. Someday, we might need to copy their tactics if we dig in.”
“Absolutely. Their unique construction allows for mutual support and resource transport,” Fang confirmed. “We must study their placement carefully if we wish to attack successfully.”
Alam leaned back in his chair, contemplating the formidable Zion base displayed on the monitor. “Hmm… do you find any weaknesses, Fang?” he asked, his brow furrowing with determination.
“Yes, sir,” Fang replied, his voice steady. “I’ve identified several vulnerabilities. First, their defense grid is heavily concentrated on airspace, which means we can utilize our ground forces to penetrate or outflank them during the attack. Second, their command center is centralized and vulnerable; targeting this area could cripple their battlefield control. Lastly, while their underground network provides protection and escape routes, it could also be exploited if we block or collapse it.”
“Interesting,” Alam mused, a grin forming on his lips. “Ironically, their weaknesses are in the center. Normally, a fort’s strong point is at its core, but they’ve opted for an unorthodox layout. And yes, their underground network… perhaps we can send a strike team to infiltrate. They picked the wrong foe… heh.”
“I agree,” Fang nodded. “The underground network is their Achilles' heel. We can launch a combined assault with strike teams and ground forces to penetrate and attack their defenses. By sending the main force to target their command center and armored trains, we can break their backbone and cripple their defenses. This base is a worthy target for our next major offensive.”
“Good point,” Alam said, tapping his fingers on the desk. “If you were the Zion commander here, what would you do to enhance this base?”
Fang thought for a moment. “I would reinforce the defense grid with additional anti-aircraft batteries, increase the number of armored trains for secure resource transport, and strengthen the underground network with more checkpoints and traps to deter infiltration. Finally, decentralizing the command center would make it less vulnerable to an attack.”
Alam chuckled. “Decentralized is the way to go. Adding too many tools can be costly. If I were Zion, I’d enhance defenses in the underground tunnels and just place pillboxes and AA guns on the surface. Keep all the important stuff underground.”
Fang nodded in agreement. “That’s a clever approach, sir. By bolstering the underground defenses, you reduce the vulnerability of the command center. The Zion have set up impressive bases, but they’ve made mistakes. With our insights, we can exploit those weaknesses.”
“Exactly! War isn’t just about stacking weapons; it’s about management as well. So, my generals, who among you has fought a similar structure to the Zion’s?” Alam’s gaze swept across the room.
Some generals exchanged glances, unsure, until one stepped forward. “Sir! I fought against a similar structure during my previous war against the Zion. I led an elite strike force into their stronghold in Siberia, which had a layout like this base in Novosibirsk.”
“Really?” Alam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So they haven’t improved anything? Interesting. Tell us your experience in attacking the base.”
The brave general took a deep breath. “I led a strike force of about 60 men into the Zion stronghold. We infiltrated their underground network through an old mine and ambushed their defenses in the tunnels. Using explosives, we broke through their defenses and engaged the Zion in close combat. It was fierce, but with our superior training, we managed to penetrate the stronghold.”
“And what was the outcome? Did you take the base?” Alam pressed.
The general nodded. “Yes, we managed to secure the base after intense fighting. Despite their defenses, we overcame them and pushed into the stronghold. The Zion fought hard, but in the end, our tactics prevailed. They retreated to higher ground, and we took control. However, the cost was high; we lost about one-fifth of our forces.”
“Wait, you said you saw the Zion up close?” Alam asked, leaning forward.
“Indeed, sir. I fought against them personally during the battle. I observed their uniforms, weapons, and armor firsthand. I even encountered one of their officers briefly.”
“Interesting! How did he escape?” Alam’s curiosity was piqued.
The general sighed. “Unfortunately, the officer managed to escape amidst the chaos. We were focused on fighting their defense force and didn’t anticipate his escape. He jumped out of one of the underground tunnels and rode away on a horse. We tried to chase him, but we were exhausted from battling the Zion. He was a skilled rider and disappeared into the night.”
“Ha! It sounds like a movie—a dramatic escape on horseback!” Alam laughed. “This is an important story you’ve shared. We must secure their secret tunnels and mitigate any escape attempts.”
The general bowed his head in agreement. “Yes, sir. We can’t let our opponents have such dramatic escapes. We need to focus our resources on the underground network to eliminate any possible escape routes.”
“What’s your name?” Alam asked, looking at the brave general.
The general hesitated for a moment. “I am Xiaoyi, sir. I serve the Wanderer Group as one of the generals of the strike force.”
“Xiaoyi… sorry for asking. I have a hard time remembering names quickly. So, Xiaoyi, I’ll give you the task of forming a breach division unit.”
Xiaoyi nodded with determination. “Yes, sir. I will form a breach division immediately and train them for the next offensive. One question, sir—what shall we call this breach division?”
Alam paused, contemplating. “Hmm… I need a punchy name. How about… Dragon Slayer?”
Xiaoyi’s eyes lit up. “Dragon Slayer! Yes, that sounds fantastic, sir! It embodies our determination to break through enemy defenses like a dragon slayer defeating a dragon. I’ll submit the proposal for naming our breach division the Dragon Slayer.”
“Excellent! The Dragon Slayer will be a key element in our campaign to take Novosibirsk. Are you ready for the duty, Xiaoyi?” Alam asked, leaning forward.
“Yes, sir! I’m ready. I’ll lead the Dragon Slayer division, ensuring we don’t give the Zion another opportunity to escape. With the strength and wisdom of the Wanderer Group, we will take the Zion stronghold and bring victory to the True Horde!”
Alam slammed his hand on the desk. “Keep sharp! Keep wits! Keep clear! We, the True Horde, will cut the Zion in half! For victory and our people!” He drew his sword into the air.
Xiaoyi and the other generals raised their swords, shouting in unison, “Long live the Wanderer Group! Long live the True Horde! Long live Alam the Conqueror!”
“ “Ahaha, don’t call me conqueror! That makes me sound like the antagonist in a story,” Alam winked, pretending to twirl a mustache like a classic villain. “Next thing you know, I’ll be tying damsels to train tracks! Let’s just stick to being the good guys, shall we?, But never mind—let’s get to work!”
Laughter erupted in the room as the generals saluted their leader and returned to their offices to prepare for the next offensive. The Dragon Slayer division was formed, and Xiaoyi was appointed as its commander.
As Alam observed Xiaoyi’s background, he recalled that the general was once part of the Phantom Cult—a secretive and extremist group devoted to the Phantom Priest and their vision of domination. It raised concerns; Xiaoyi might still have ties to the cult and its beliefs, warranting careful observation.
In mid-November, Alam watched as his forces of the United Crescent Alliance marched toward Novosibirsk.
“Gentlemen,” he called out, “if our allies in the Middle East and Asia join the attack, it will be World War IV.”
The combined forces advanced from different directions toward the Zion base. The True horde and the Crescent Alliance were working together,
This promised to be a colossal battle, a clash of empires unseen since the Great War.
General Yang. General Zhang and General Ali look at alam at distance. which they notice he more cheerful after his marriage with general baihu. or maybe he just coping again?
Zhang then look at other two “he always asking. how we prevent the ww4. but now he seems embrace it fully by join the orchestra “
Yang, shrugged, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He tapped a finger on the reinforced plating of his left cybernetic eye beneath his eyepatch. “i never see him as.. pacifist per say, he is my mentor of offensive tactic. Besides,” he added with a hint of a grin, “he never struck me as a man afraid of a good fight.”
Ali, watched Alam with a knowing smile.“The stories say Genghis Khan wept for every life lost, even those of his enemies. But he still conquered. Sometimes, a man does what he must, even if his heart isn’t in it.”
He paused, his gaze drifting to the vast array of troops and war machines preparing for battle. “Perhaps Alam weeps inside too. But the river of war has begun to flow, and it will not be easily diverted.”