After many tense hours, the reply from Oso arrives. They will meet for one hour tomorrow at an unclaimed rock a few miles off the coast. We only get one chance to explain ourselves. I hope I don’t fuck things up.
We travel on a small—relatively speaking—cruiser. It may come off as aggressive, I can’t be unarmed. Though, escorts will remain out of sight. On the ship with me are Davis, a translator, a few bodyguards and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Ravi. Or, as I like to call him, Pasta. In my head only, of course.
Oso, believing that we are hostile, has brought a whole fleet. It’s not very impressive to me, with all the ships being wooden and sailing, but the numbers make up for it. There’s got to be thousands on the other side of that rock.
The cruiser reaches the flat, black rock the size of four cars, first. A bodyguard carries a folding table off the cruiser, with me climbing down a net soon after. Then a few chairs are set up and we wait for the literal sea of ships to reach the rock.
The fleet stops a few yards from the rock. The largest ship—assumed to be the flagship—continues until a wooden plank is dropped onto the rock. Though, the rock is too low for the plank and it falls off the ship. So the dwarves just jump off. I guess they have better durability than humans. But at least humans are taller.
The tallest of the dwarves is only around three feet tall. I guess it’s expected. Though not all of them have bushy beards and red hair, the dwarf who sits down at the table does.
“Second Prince Aleu’ie Tensosa,” he stoically introduces himself. Um, I’m pretty sure I’m being disrespected now, but I want to avoid war, so let's tactically ignore that.
I reach out for a handshake, demonstrating with Davis. But he still doesn’t take my hand. Shit. I don’t think I’m getting anywhere with this attitude. Oso’s already made up their mind.
In any case, there’s still a chance for a peaceful approach. “President John…Johnson.” I reluctantly add my last name. Dammit, why was I named John?
At least it makes Prince Aleu’ie’s stone face break into a smirk. I’ll take it, even at my own detriment.
“Let’s get straight to the point,” I start, trying to avoid modern lingo like ‘cut to the chase.’ “That airstrike was not ordered by me or anyone representing the interests of the United States.”
“Then who could have used your military to attack?”
“That wasn’t our military. It’’s a private militia owned by the govenor himself.”
Prince Aleu’ie raises a thick eyebrow. “So a govenor was responsible.”
I nod, relieved that he’s getting it. “Yes. Oh, and our military wasn’t able to prevent the airstrike due to our current chaotic situation and underground forces exploiting the opportunity.”
He grunts in…understanding hopefully? “Reasonable if reports from Yuinae that the United States of America is really from another world. Though I do not doubt that claim, as such a large landmass would have never escaped our notice.” Are we out of the woods? “But.”
Oh no.
“Isn’t a govenor under your direct control? Even if the militia is his, they cannot act without your orders, no?”
How to explain democracy? “You see, America is a republic.”
This didn’t get the understanding that I wanted. Instead, Prince Aleu'ie looked at—who I assume is his advisor—in confusion. “A…republic?”
No. Don’t tell me republics don’t exist here! Seriously?! In our world, the concept was created by ancient Greece! How am I supposed to explain the entire concept of representation and balance of power?!
“…You’ve never heard of a republic? Maybe a distant nation you haven’t heard of is one?” I attempt to stall as I organize my explanation.
The prince snorts. “We have information on every nation on the planet. There isn’t such a thing as a republic.”
Since he knows about planets it must be true…welp, time to explain democracy.
“Ahem, so the US runs on democracy, which elects their leaders…”
After a while, I get the distinct feeling that Prince Aleu’ie stopped listening hours ago.
“…But he is a govenor of what is equivalent to a province, yes? How else would the government control these powerful people if not directly?”
Ugh. I smile ‘patiently’ and explain for the eleventh time, “The federal government is a separate entity from the state government. The states can make their own laws but must adhere to federal law. Of course, this is sometimes ignored in certain cases. And states have their own courts too…In really short terms, states have some power and the federal government doesn’t control everything.”
“But you’re the leader of your country. You have the absolute power to—”
“But that’s the thing,” I interrupt him. What? I’m getting frustrated here. “I don't have absolute power. The president is not a dictator or an absolute monarch. Or a pope. Or a god. I am just the president. Like…of a company. Uh,” I add after realizing from Prince Aleu’ie’s expression that companies somehow don’t exist. “Like a merchant…group. A group of merchants. That have the same goal. But one’s like the boss but doesn’t hold all of the money, so he has to listen to the other merchants too.”
The prince rolls his eyes and gets up. “I have been patient enough, listening to your mad, incomprehensible babbling. The fact of the matter is, you attacked a civilian city and we are now at war. End of story.” He turns to leave.
I want to stop him, but I can’t. He’s already been patient enough. He came into this meeting with a conclusion already, but he still stayed and listened to me talk about something this world has never seen for hours. He seems like a closed cavern but he’s actually pretty open-minded. I mean, he didn’t immediately shout, ‘Off with your head!’ after hearing about elections. He actually understood that part too. He was skeptical, but understood. So I can’t ask much more of him.
But just because I understand and respect his mindset doesn’t mean I’m not salty. War is always the worse alternative.
The giant wooden fleet doesn’t attack and simply leaves, probably preparing for battle. Now America must do the same. And I have to call General Reiner about that war meeting.
“America will not support this war. Hell, even I don’t support it. But what choice do I have?” I lead the meeting in the war room, surrounding a table among many generals and necessary personnel. The screen on the wall shows a satellite image of Oso.
“The geography is in our favor. A flat desert with few rivers. And according to Yuinae, magic use is limited. At most, they have a few fireballs that can only slightly scorch metal, a magical augment to their bodies and swords, and their god’s blessing. The buffs aren’t strong enough to exceed the realm of the normal, just enhanced coffee. And the swords can't cut through what Yuinae calls opavnite, which—according to testing—is slightly weaker than basic steel. Their god’s domain is temperature, so the dwarves will be kept cool. But the blessing isn’t strong enough to melt or freeze. And Yuinae says that gods can only use the power of the blessings, so no superhuman strength or anything. But they’re immortal and invincible.”
“So,” Secretary of Defense Seth says, “We can’t kill a god.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“No. But their invincibility disappears when most of their believers are gone. We’re not going to need to kill a god though. They’re not allowed to directly intervene by some godly law.” This relieves most in the room. To my right, Major Imogen reports about Oso’s technology.
“Oso’s main strength is technology. Specifically, naval technology. That thousand ship fleet seen during negotiations is their main armada, but they have four three hundred ship fleets. All are wooden and armed with cannons that fire magic fireballs, not a threat to us. They surprisingly have some early armored cars, but are slow and clunky. Their armor is made out of iron and they mainly serve to protect their fire mages, whose magic we’ve already deemed not dangerous. The infantry use swords. Oso’s doctrine runs on ancient warfare. So lines shooting at each other on an open field. No artillery. No aircraft. Nothing that can shoot one down either.”
On the other side of the room, General Reiner mutters, “I’m glad these guys don’t use much magic. If we fought that Syndicate or one of the two human kingdoms nearby…” We’d be fucked.
I summarize. “So, basically we will win. It’s just a matter of if we can do it before America is tired of war. And we’re still dealing with economic fallout. So we need to end the war fast.”
“If Yuinae isn’t lying to us.” Major Armad intercedes. “Can we really trust those elves—”
“Oh my god,” I groan. “Enough with the speciesism! Spy plane and drone reports confirmed the information. For the most part, at least. So can you please shut up?”
And he does. Because he’s speaking to the hero of the Malaysian Civil War, where America protected the region from anarchists. It was a big deal. And I won’t downplay my accomplishments in it.
“Great. So, any plans?”
Commander Reun is a career soldier. His parents followed Syndicalist doctrine and designated each of their five children a role from birth. He was the last child, the one they deemed would be a soldier. So, he watched his oldest brother practice piano every day, all day from his exhausted state on the ground. He watched his oldest sister study for the government advisory position through the window. Watched his other sister forge endless weapons in the forge outside. Saw the second youngest of the family collapse next to him after dance practice.
None of them had any talent for magic besides him. But magic was for the military. It ensured that he would be stuck on the frontlines for the rest of his life.
He was fine with that. His purpose is to serve Oso and lead his nation to victory. Eventually, his commitment and talent led him here. At Jalcui Port, leading an army of twelve thousand in preparation to naval invade their new enemy. The country claiming to be from another world, the one that attacked first, the United States of America.
Commander Reun did not think Oso could win. He had heard stories about the heroes summoned by the Ebvirsjo Syndicate. Impossibly powerful magic that could obliterate even a dragon without resistance. He didn’t know if the United States had many such mages, but he didn’t know anything about them. Their doctrine, their strengths, nothing. Just that they seemed to be a human nation and had metal ships and aircraft.
That alone meant that Oso was outclassed. But Oso could not back down. They were directly attacked, so if they ignored this insult to honor, their hard-earned status as a minor nation would be questioned, even revoked. That cannot happen. If Reun’s great nation was demoted back to village status…
No, he had to fight. Not to win, but to show the world that Oso deserves its status. If they lose, they can simply surrender when they still have strength left. As a newly summoned nation, the United States shouldn’t pursue conquest. Oso then can just show how the United States has aircraft, something only major nations should have. Oso was beaten by a major nation. There’s nothing wrong with that.
Commander Reun spots the First Fleet arrive on the horizon. All preparations have been made, logistics are stocked up. The weather is sunny with few clouds, and wind is abundant. Commander Reun simply has to wait for the ships to dock. The main concern is once they’re on the ocean and after landing. From the negotiations held a few days ago, it seems that the United States has metal boats,but not many. They only sent one while Oso sent their entire First Fleet. With sheer numbers, the Second and Third Fleets will block the enemy navy for as long as possible. The Fourth and Fifth will be on standby to replace them if the Second and Third are destroyed too quickly. But the First Fleet must be protected.
As for the aircraft, the First Fleet will sail spread out, with multiple decoy transports to protect the land troops. Not even a great power has enough aircraft to attack all fleets together, so with this strategy at least some will land. Though, if the United States has as much aircraft as a great power and focuses on the First Fleet, it cannot escape. The decoys must draw their fire.
The landing target is not the enemy mainland. That’s too far away and there’s no guarantee that a single ship will remain at that point. Instead, they will land at an island close enough for a few day journey. The intention is to occupy the island and attempt to negotiate a peace, with Oso willing to give some concessions.
The First Fleet will be able to dock in an hour. Mages climb into their mage capsules and engineers prepare to transfer them onto the boats. The dock cannot hold them as they are made of metal. The boats, reinforced with magic, can.
The wooden ships sail under the clear blue sky. No sign of any aircraft. From the first airstrike, Commander Reun knew that he will at least be able to hear the flying vehicles before they arrive, giving the First Fleet enough time to change course. He waits patiently at the sight of Oso’s pride and joy sailing towards the port.
Then it’s gone. All of a sudden, the ships just…explode into flames. The wide formation does nothing as the flaming shrapnel from the destroyed ships flies far onto their neighbors.
After a brief moment of shock and abject horror, Commander Reun comes to his senses. The naval invasion was lost. But they cannot retreat from the port. That would mean abandoning the citizens living here. Commander Reun never wanted to use a civilian port for the invasion, but all naval bases were too far away. Now, he can only stand his ground and prepare for whatever horrors await him.
“All mages, including support mages, into the mage capsules! Fourth, Fifth, and Seventh Legion, evacuate the civilians! The rest, take cover near the buildings.”
This order shocks the rest of his troops out of their daze. By this point, more than half of the First Fleet has fallen, their fire mana cannons useless without an enemy to fire at. The rest of the ships quickly turn into a flaming mess on the water.
Commander Reun takes cover near the merchant guild building. It’s the tallest in the area, a shade of green that normally reminds him of the tropics of Yuinae. But now it’s the color of betrayal, as Yuinae, their longtime ally, has refused to support them in the war. Commander Reun understands that maybe they wouldn’t want to fight an obviously superior enemy, but Yuinae even closed off trade. This meant Yuinae has given up on Oso.
The First Fleet is now kraken food, but the evacuation is still not complete. And without an enemy in sight, the mages cannot do anything. Commander Reun cannot do anything. This is the first time he felt this helpless. Wondering when his friends next to him would explode and if he will even realize when he follows. Commander Reun doesn’t look at their faces. For now, they were soldiers about to die. They were not people.
Luckily, it seems that whatever destroyed the First Fleet was a naval weapon, as no one suddenly exploded. All Commander Reun had to worry about was the sky. He constantly scanned the open expanse, switching between it and the screaming citizens. A noble has collapsed in despair after seeing the pride of the nation get wiped out within a matter of minutes. Was it even a minute?
The evacuation group is too busy with more cooperative evacuees to worry about one man. So Commander Reun attempts to drag him off the sand and into an old mage capsule. But the noble shakes his head, muttering, “It’s lost, we’re doomed. We’re dead. You’re dead!” He suddenly shouts, attempting to grab Commander Reun by the collar before realizing he didn’t have one. “Don’t you see? The United Sates of America is a demonic nation that’s been sent by an evil god to conquer the world! Oso is first, then the traitors Yuinae, then-” Commander Reun smacks the distressed man in the head, knocking him out. He may be a noble, but that doesn’t matter when he’s about to die.
Commander Reun tosses the noble to a lightly armored, beige soldier. “Demonic nation,” he mutters under his breath. “They’re clearly humans. Evil god? That’s really subjective. Ah, except maybe Venerai’s god, he seems fairly evil…”
A sound rips him away from his reverie. Then he sees them. A flock of impossibly fast birds—no, aircraft. They have to be aircraft. Faster than those from the first airstrike. Much faster.
“Enemy aircraft! Duck under the docks!” Commander Reun screams. The merchant guild building is the closest to the docks, so he and the First Legion are the first to dive under the water. But the rest aren’t so lucky.
When Commander Reun resurfaces, all that remains of Jalcui Port is floating wood, the smell of fried meat, and smoke. Lots of smoke. Commander Reun can’t tell if the mage capsules survived. But at least the citizens managed to flee before the aircraft arrived.
“Th-the city! It’s…” Sergeant—no, a blob exclaims in shock. The rest of the blobs float in silence.
When the smoke clears, it’s obvious that the mage capsules did not withstand the bombs. Shattered iron surround blackened leather covered in meat chunks and white cloth. A red beard flutters in the wind. Commander Reun is certain that the beard was not originally red.
A black aircraft with a propeller…on top? With no wings? The strange aircraft hovers over the destroyed city and appears to shout, “This is the United States military! All survivors put your weapons down and surrender! We will ensure your lives and return you once the war is over.”
Commander Reun looks at the First Legion. “We should surrender. At least we’ll have a quick death and our bodies can be returned to our families.” The blobs nod.
They trudge out of the water and toss their weapons in. Commander Reun stands on the beach where the dock used to be and raises his hands. He doesn’t want to remember anything. He doesn’t want to look at anything. He closes his eyes, hearing the First Legion’s swords splash into the water.
Despite his resolve to not remember, he sees his siblings faces. His parents as they explain Syndicalism at the dinner table. He never got it. How can merchants make money if they have to give their profit to the government? But Commander Reun is about to die. So he blurs out his parents responses.
In the darkness with the smell of grilled steak to accompany him, Commander Reun awaits the death he knew he would have from birth. But death never came.