Late January 2405. So, the usual chaos was brewing. A Wanderer officer strolled up to Alam, looking harried. “Sir, we’ve got a situation at the border. Red Army refugees… and deserters. A real mixed bag.”
Alam raised an eyebrow. “What’s the deal? Are they trying to surrender or just passing through?”
“Looks like both,” the officer replied. “Some want to join us, while others are just looking for a way out.”
“Classic Zion move,” Alam mused, recalling a similar tactic used against the Flying Dragon. He examined the monitor. A crowd huddled near the border, separated from True Horde territory by barbed wire, mines, and machine gun nests. “Set up a camp,” he ordered. “Double the security. Screen everyone.”
A day later, Alam inspected the newly formed grenadier unit, led by Lieutenant Colonel Zao. “I see… Lieutenant Colonel Zao,” Alam remarked, surprised. “Quite the promotion.”
Zao saluted crisply. “Sir! It’s an honor to command these soldiers.”
“I know we stood this unit up quickly,” Alam acknowledged. “Team cohesion might be an issue.”
“We’ll make it work, sir,” Zao affirmed.
Later, in a nearby tent, Alam, Zao, and other officers studied a map of the Minshan Mountains. “Here’s the plan,” Alam began, pointing. “Three sections. First takes the peak, second holds it, third covers the flanks.”
Zao nodded. The plan was solid.
“Any questions?” Alam asked.
The officers shook their heads.
“Good. This won’t be easy,” Alam said seriously. “The enemy’s dug in deep. This mission is crucial.”
As Zao’s forces advanced, Alam received new intel. Red Nation spies had infiltrated the Xian remnants, attempting to destabilize the region and prolong the conflict. Their orders were clear, turning the Minshan Mountains into a Alam “Afghanistan.” The goal was to bog down the True Horde, bleed their resources, and prevent them from interfering with Zion’s plans. hence, Soviet and Usa fall for this in past.
This new information changed everything. The Xian remnants weren't just a defeated enemy; they were now a pawn in a larger game. Alam realized he needed to end this quickly, before the Red Nation could fully implement their strategy.
The battle intensified. Zao’s grenadiers, trained for close-quarters combat, proved invaluable in clearing out enemy positions. The bombers, dropping their pamphlets (and a few well-placed explosives), further demoralized the Xian forces.
“Keep moving!” Alam ordered as he monitored their progress from his base in Xian. Holographic maps displayed the slow, deliberate movements of his units as they navigated the icy landscape, facing sporadic resistance from the Xian Empire.
Alam watched the unit movements on the battle vision display. The units were moving slowly but steadily, encountering sporadic resistance from the Xian Empire forces.
“Fang,” he said, “didn’t some Xian nobles manage to flee during our last siege? Tell me the truth; I won’t get mad.”
Fang hesitated but finally admitted, “Yes, sir. A few nobles escaped through the tunnels beneath the city.”
“I see. Prepare the bombers. Let’s drop pamphlets offering pardons to any noble who surrenders. They’ll get a nice cultural symbol and a new job as public servants.”
Fang nodded, confirming that the bombers would be ready to launch with the pamphlets on board.
“Good. Zao’s grenadiers will motivate them,” Alam sighed. “Now let’s just hope they’re not too stubborn to fight to the bitter end.”
The officers shared a nervous chuckle, each one aware that the Xian forces were notoriously tenacious. But with the new unit of grenadiers leading the charge, morale was high.
“Anyway,” Alam continued, “do we have better intel on those Shadow Guards and… what are they called again?”
“The Phantom Cult, sir,” an officer replied.
With renewed focus, Alam pressed for updates on their adversaries. The officers confirmed that they had gained a clearer understanding of the Shadow Guard, a small yet elite faction serving as the Phantom Cult's muscle.
The Cult itself was more organized, led by the Phantom Priest and the High Oracle, known for their aggressive tactics and ruthless pursuit of power.
“Why do they call themselves a cult? Do they do anything weird?” Alam asked, half-joking.
The officers exchanged glances before explaining that the Phantom Cult operated under a strict creed of secrecy and extremism, engaging in mysterious rituals aimed at summoning their so-called phantom god.
Alam sighed. “I don’t have time for this cat-and-mouse game while WW4 looms. Offer them a meeting with me, or else…” His ultimatum hung in the air.
The Shadow Guard commanders deliberated, finally agreeing to meet Alam to discuss terms for surrender, meanwhile when zao continue their campaign,
The representatives from the Phantom Cult and Shadow Guard arrived at the Xian Palace, tension thick in the air. Alam gestured for them to take their seats.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Greetings. Thank you for coming. I’m here to discuss the unity of China. With the True Horde banner, we stand a better chance of surviving the global conflict ahead,” he said, his tone firm yet inviting.
The representatives nodded, their faces a mix of wariness and respect.
“Why did you hesitate to accept my first invitation?” Alam pressed.
A Shadow Guard commander spoke up, “Many of us are skeptical about the True Horde’s ambitions. We had to weigh the risks of surrendering.”
“Now I’m an open book,” Alam replied. “You can put your worries to rest by talking to me directly.”
The Phantom Priest stepped forward. His mask was divided vertically: the left half stark white, the right half a deep black. The stark division gave the impression of a perpetual half-smile, half-frown. “Are you truly willing to honor your terms of pardon and amnesty?”
“Yes,” Alam assured them. “We’ll forgive your past deeds. Together, we’ll turn over a new leaf under the Confederacy.”
The Phantom Priest nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“But seriously,” Alam added with a smirk, “what kind of cult are you running?”
The Phantom Priest paused before answering, “Our cult seeks the resurrection of the phantom god through rigorous rituals. We aim to control his power to dominate the world.”
“What, like Satanism?” Alam quipped, raising an eyebrow.
“No! We’re not Satanists!” the Phantom Priest retorted. “Our rituals are meant to summon a glorious deity, not spread destruction.”
“Do you engage in unethical practices like human sacrifice?” Alam pressed.
The Phantom Priest hesitated, then stated firmly, “We do not harm innocents. Our rituals are to access divine power, not to spread violence.”
“Very well,” Alam said. “Your beliefs will be protected under Confederation law, and you’ll have autonomy in your regions.”
The Shadow Guard commander nodded appreciatively. “We’re grateful for the Confederacy’s understanding and accept the terms of surrender. Let’s unify against the looming conflict.”
“Good. Now, what do you know about the Flying Dragons?” Alam inquired, shifting the topic.
The representatives exchanged puzzled looks. “Flying Dragons? We’ve heard the legends, but we’ve never seen one,” a Shadow Guard commander replied.
“No, no,” Alam clarified with a smirk. “I mean the gang factions in the East.”
Understanding dawned on their faces. “Ah, the Flying Dragon gangs! They’re notorious in the Yellow Sea region, known for their ruthless smuggling operations.”
“Did you have any dealings with them?” Alam asked.
“No,” the Shadow Guard commander quickly denied. “We have no connection with the Flying Dragon gangs.”
“Alright, very good. Any last doubts or questions before we wrap this up?” Alam asked.
The Phantom Priest spoke up, “We have no doubts about your sincerity. We welcome the chance to avoid further conflict and stand united under the Confederacy.”
“Good,” Alam said, raising his cup. “For the people!”
The representatives raised their cups in unison, the atmosphere lightening slightly.
“For the people!” the Shadow Guard commander echoed, a hint of a smile breaking through his mask.
Early February 2405
The Minshan Mountains were proving a real challenge for the Wanderer Group. Think steep slopes, narrow paths, and a lot of places to hide. This natural bottleneck slowed their advance against the remaining Xian Empire forces. Even so, Zao’s troops were making progress, pushing back the last pockets of resistance and capturing important passes. They had the remaining Xian forces surrounded. Things were moving forward, but it was slow going.
The True Horde wasn't fighting alone. Their new allies, the Phantom Cult, were using their mind-manipulation abilities to turn captured Red Army spies. This caused a lot of confusion and problems for the The Xian Empire. At the same time, the Shadow Guard, the Cult’s fighting force, was getting ready for a surprise attack. This attack was meant to distract the enemy while the Phantom Cult did some behind-the-scenes work, sabotaging enemy supplies and communication lines.
The fighting in the mountains was tough. The enemy was well hidden, using the terrain to their advantage. Bullets flew everywhere, and there were ambushes around every corner. Zao’s troops had been fighting in these mountain passes for over a week. The enemy was dug in deep, using the thick trees and bushes for cover, and they kept launching surprise attacks. This was taking a heavy toll on both sides. Zao kept pushing forward, slowly clearing out the remaining Xian resistance.
Command decided it would be a good idea to take out the enemy's anti-aircraft guns. This would make it safer for bombers to attack the enemy’s strong points. The bombing run was a success. With fewer threats from the ground, the Wanderer Group pushed their attack even harder, continuing to clear out the last of the Xian resistance and secure the mountain pass.
The Xian Empire forces had been pushed back to mountain forts at the very end of the pass. They’d built makeshift defenses out of rocks and dirt, which protected their tanks and made it difficult for the Wanderers to advance. Even anti-tank rockets couldn't get through these improvised barriers. The Wanderer armored units had to come up with a new plan. They used their speed and maneuverability to weave through the defenses, planting explosives to blast holes and expose the enemy tanks.
In the middle of all the smoke and rubble, the Wanderers saw something unexpected: a few enemy soldiers were surrendering, waving a white flag. The Wanderers stopped, weapons raised, just in case it was a trap. They knew it was possible there were hidden weapons or ambushes. Some of the surrendering soldiers looked genuinely relieved, but others seemed nervous and suspicious.
Among the group of surrendering soldiers, they noticed a man wearing fancy, royal-looking robes. The Wanderers were curious. Was he an important leader?
By early March 2405 Zao returned to Xian Palace. he reported that the campaign had been successful, but it had been a difficult fight. She brought a captured Xian leader—still wearing his robes—to meet with Alam.
Alam raised his eyebrows, gesturing for the prisoner to sit. “Ehem. So, I assume you must be a relative of the emperor?”
The man sat, an older man with an air of nobility. He nodded, not denying the connection.
“Alright… and… how close?” Alam asked.
The man sighed, looking away for a moment. “I am his son,” he finally said. “The prince.”
Alam’s expression shifted. “I see… and I’m the one who killed your father.”
The prince’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his composure. “Yes, you are responsible. But now that our forces have surrendered, I must ask a favor…”
“Perhaps I can grant you a pardon for your rebellion. But let me hear what you have in mind first,” Alam replied, intrigued.
“The Xian Empire was my father’s legacy, and I want more than just a pardon,” the prince insisted, his tone cold. “I want to be recognized as the new emperor of China.”
Alam stifled a laugh, covering his mouth. “An emperor? Why would you want to be emperor without territory or an army?”
The prince shot him a glare, clearly unimpressed. “Just because my empire has fallen doesn’t mean my bloodline should be forgotten. The Xian Empire has a legacy, and I intend to reclaim my rightful place.”
“What skills do you have?” Alam asked, genuinely curious.
The prince frowned, momentarily taken aback. “I’m knowledgeable in imperial laws and a skilled negotiator. My lineage alone grants me a claim to the throne.”
“Good. I could offer you the position of an imperial judge,” Alam replied casually.
The prince scoffed, visibly frustrated. “A judge? That’s unacceptable. I demand to be emperor!”
“Do you think my vassals will like you?” Alam shot back.
The prince hesitated, considering. “If they’re loyal to you, I see no reason they wouldn’t accept me.”
“Even if my generals don’t like you, how can I accept your demand? I’m just being realistic here.”
Unfazed, the prince pressed on. “I want a chance to prove myself. I ask that you consider my request, give me the opportunity to reclaim my rightful place.”
“You’ll have to work for it. We’re a meritocracy. You can rank up based on skill, or you have a third option.”
The prince’s eyes widened. “What’s that third option?”
“You know what happens to subjects who lose: prison, death, or if they’re lucky, exile. That’s just the way it goes.”
Calmly, the prince stated, “I’ll take exile if I must.”
“Very well. I’ll exile you to Europe.”
The prince bowed his head. “I accept this decision. Thank you for your mercy.”
alam Sniff. “Yeah, goodbye, Prince.”
As the prince left, Alam shook his head, chuckling at the bizarre turn of events. Rather than executing the prince or imprisoning him, which could lead to further unrest or martyrdom, Alam opts for exile—a solution that removes the threat without escalating tensions,
alam lean on chair “exile.. free food. and wifi.. damn.. that is heaven enough for me” he then spin his chair
Just then, new intel arrived: some Red Nation spies and assassins had been captured while attempting to spread rumors and carry out assassination attempts on xian. truo horde capital.
Alam’s eyes narrowed. “Of course, Zion would pull something like this,” he muttered. then close his eyes,