Author's note: I know it a took a while but real life can be a hassle so here's an update I was able to squeeze out.
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USEAN Air Force 149th "Garuda" Squadron, Skies Over Northern Louria
March 7, 1641
Beneath the watchful rays of the moons above Rodenius, a gale blew over the barren landscape of the occupied nation of Louria. It carried with it a voice, a message, an omen for the long regarded "superpowers" that were native to this world. Its scent, tainted by the pungent odour of burning kerosene. Its aeolian sound, akin to deafening roars of thunder.
The patches of rolling clouds would ever so often break apart, unravelling another layer. It was just that this time, they weren't of water droplets, but of titanium alloys.
The fuselages of Garuda Squadron were among the many that reflected the calm moonlight emanating from the heavens above. Forward deployed from Paya Lebar Air Base, a total of 24 F-15ES' flew at about 30,000 feet above sea level, their hardpoints bristling with the short-range, domestically made Sumpit-1 or American made AIM-9 Sidewinder infrared Air-to-Air missiles and beyond-visual-range AIM-120 AMRAAMs. Their dual Pratt & Whitney afterburning turbofan engines whined with a pitch as it propelled the fighter at speeds of up to Mach 2.5 towards its area of operations.
Their objective was simple, fly top cover for Hornet Squadron that flew several thousand feet below them. Comprised of the lighter and very much older F-5E Tiger IIs, Hornet Squadron's aircraft were loaded to the brim with Mark 82 unguided bombs for ground strikes against Milishial and Parpaldian positions. The reasoning for the utilization of Mark 82s when JDAM kits were widely available was simple: Cost and target characteristics. The unfortunate recipients of such a payload, based on the briefing mere hours before they took off from the Antonio Luna Base, was an important logistics hub situated within an old Lourian castle that had been repurposed by the Parpaldian occupation forces due to its defensible nature. It was understood that aside from horse drawn carts, what was described as Milishial trucks were present entering and leaving the fort with supplies and manpower as part of the nominal superpower's commitment to this side of the world. The same type of loadout was mirrored on other squadrons assigned to targets that were deemed "low risk" of causing "significant" collateral damage. For those assigned to strike targets close to civilian dwellings such as those in the city of Jin-Hark, guided bombs were issued in the form of Joint Direct Attack Munitions (JDAM) as a way of minimizing unnecessary civilian suffering and death.
Flying farther back at around the same height as Garuda Squadron, an E-2C Hawkeye constantly monitored the surrounding airspace with its rotodome mounted AN/APS-145 radar system, its radar screen under the ever-astute eyes of the radar operator who not only relayed information to the squadron he was assigned to command and direct, but also receive and interpret reports coming in from other AWACS aircraft in other areas of operations. The operation called for a simultaneous air strike all over the occupied territory for the purpose of crippling and demoralizing the fighting forces present on the continent in what is formally known as "Rapid Dominance". Of course, it was also known by a more common name, Shock and Awe.
<<This is Airborne Warning and Control System (AWACS) Shrewd Owl to all aircraft: 12 bandits at bearing 2-7-0. Garudas 5 to 8 are to intercept, over.>>
<<Garuda 5, copy. Alright gents let's get a move on.>> Came the affirmation from one of the F-15s as it along with 3 others banked away from the rest of the flight to engage the incoming hostiles. As Garuda 5 led his flight of four F-15s away from the main strike force, the rest of Garuda and Hornet squadron flew as planned through the cloudy azure night skies. The report from the AWACs quickly drowned out by the whistling of their aircraft's intakes as they pressed on. Inside the lead craft Garuda 1, Weapons System Officer (WSO) Kiet noticed that his breathing was heavy, his heart was racing, and his thoughts wondered just how this war progress will and more importantly, end. The briefing before had made one thing clear, this was an open war against two superpowers of this world and should be viewed as such.
"Kiet, don't have to be so kan-cheong (nervous) one you know?"
The WSO snapped out of his thoughts and faced forward upon hearing the Cantonese laced remark.
"Bro I'm fucking stressed right now." Replied Kiet with a tone barely masking his restlessness. "We're about to go to war against two superpowers in some magical world who knows what kind of shit they got dude."
The pilot in the front seat, a one Major Ong who hailed from Singapore just like Kiet, could only afford a couple of affirmative nods upon hearing the WSO's thoughts on the situation. Putting aside the fact that this world didn't exactly function the same way things on Earth did, a lot of the nervousness about the war stemmed from one simple question. 'How devastating can weaponized magic really be?'. There was still a lot of unanswered questions about just how capable countries like the Holy Milishial Empire can be when magic was involved. After all, they had thousands of years to not only establish a magic-centric world order but also capitalize on how magic should or should not be applied. For all the military planners back in Singapore knew, the Milishials were keeping their best kept secrets only to themselves to maintain some monopoly on weapons with unimaginable power. Assets such as like the Pal Chimera could only be the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the full might of the HME and that worry permeated among the ranks of USEA's Armed Forces and Ministry of Defence. Despite that however, many in both ministries agreed on one thing, the current status quo cannot stand, but the road they had embarked on must be threaded carefully.
Before Ong and Kiet could say anything else, their headsets beamed in comms from Garuda 5's flight. Instinctively, Kiet in the back seat quickly looked down back to the radar screen in front of him and could see four friendly radar blips rapidly approaching the 12 bandits that were flying towards their flightpath.
<<This is Garuda 5, Fox-3!>>
<<Garuda 6, Fox-3!>>
<<Garuda 7, Fox-3!>>
<<Garuda 6, Fox-3! Fox-3!>>
A total of 3 separate short white lines emerged from each of the four friendly blips on radar and flew straight towards the incoming hostiles. At the same time, those four friendly blips denoting Garuda 5's flight of four F-15s were seen rapidly banking away after lobbing their beyond-visual-range missiles. The radar guidance system on the AMRAAMs demonstrated the principle of "Fire-and-forget" as it started to track its assigned targets by itself without needing any more external input. It didn't take long for the white lines to make contact with each of the hostile blips, causing them to disappear from the screen in quick succession one after another.
<<This is Shrewd Owl, bandits confirmed splash. Good work Garuda 5. Now get your flight back into formation.>>
"You think they got any messages off before they went down?"
Kiet shrugged as he responded. "Haiyah I don't know lah, guess we'll find out if AWACS picks up more bandits scrambling to stop us."
It was at this point that Kiet proceeded to turn his head slightly to the left and peered down below from his cockpit. He couldn't see them due to the difference in altitude with all the cloud cover, but somewhere below the canopy he knew that about 2 dozen F-5Es of Hornet Squadron flew in fingertip formation, amounting to a total of six separate flights of four F-5Es for separate bomb release points.
'I wonder if some of those pilots are flying the same plane their grandfathers flew back in the day...' mused Kiet to himself as he was reminded of how old Hornet Squadron's aircraft were at this point. Especially considering the fact that they were bought and rapidly pressed into service during the Cambodian War and Chinese invasion of Vietnam in the 70s. Although the airframes had seen much improvement over the decades thanks in part to the efforts of ST Aerospace as a means of extending the aircraft's lifespan, the fact of the matter is, the F-5s and to an extent F-20s were old and were planned long ago for retirement in preparation of being replaced with fewer in number but more capable F-35s and joint produced KF-21s. But with the transfer to this world, these ageing platforms were once again pressed into action until domestic industry can formulate some kind of replacement using whatever is available.
<<This is Hornet 1 we're approaching the target area now-All wing units just as we were briefed-Begin descent to 12,000 feet.>>
Just as Hornet 1 finished issuing instructions to his squadron, the cloud cover below Kiet's F-15 disappeared, like a curtain lifting for a performance to commence. He himself could see a slight glint of light from the moon above reflecting off one of the F-5s, the light fighters getting ever smaller as they pitched their noses slightly downwards at a 40-degree angle in preparation for their bombing run.
As the pilots of Hornet Squadron broke through another layer of clouds, they could see the old stone walled castle that once served as a bastion for the supremacist nation that had come so close to unifying the continent. Small little dots of lights in pairs appeared and disappeared to and from opposite sides of the castle's perimeter, an indication that activity seems uninterrupted for the time being. It didn't take long for them to flip the 'Master Arm' switch on, essentially disengaging the safeties to allow them to drop their bombs when they're over their targets. The cockpit's iron gunsights served as their primary guide as the various four-ship formations of F-5s began banking in different directions to line themselves up with their respective targets.
<<This is Hornet 1-I have eyes on target.>>
<<This is Hornet 5-Affirmative on our target.>>
The calls of acknowledgement kept pouring into the encrypted airwaves as the air strike approached zero hour. Just as the last wing leader reported that they were ready, what could only be described as erratic cones of light shot up into the night sky from various points both within the castle and atop its walls. Like the earth had awoken from its slumber and was now looking for the nuisance that had awaken it.
As the first rounds of tracer fire began firing erratically in the direction of the ground attack squadrons, Ong quipped in. "Well looks like now they're awake."
...
March 7, 1641
A young Parpaldian Sous-lieutenant's footsteps reverberated on the stone flooring as he walked along the open-air hallway to the castle's mess hall. Looking to his right, the courtyard within the castle was abuzz with activity, from horse drawn carts of the Parpaldian Army to the trucks of those from the HME carried all manner of war material from men to supplies were channelling through here before being diverted to various positions closer to the border.
Although the Sous-lieutenant appreciated the fact that the HME was willing to contribute troops to the continent, after all, why would they in the first place considering they were already at war to the far west, he can't help but feel disappointed that this was all the HME with all the talk about being a giant could muster. He exited the open-air hallway and was now walking along the walls in the main courtyard that also served as an assembly area, the hub being a hive of activity as both Milishial logistics personnel alongside Parpaldian combat troops prepared to be deployed elsewhere as per orders from the Joint-Headquarters in Jin-Hark.
The sound of another Milishial truck caught his attention as it drove past him and headed towards one of the large castle gates. Its cargo compartment comprising half of crates presumably full of supplies for troops manning the frontline trenches and the other half Parpaldian personnel who were probably barely qualified at fulfilling the minimum age requirement to serve in the military. Maybe that's what made him somewhat disappointed in this whole debacle. The Milishials claim to be staunch allies to Parpaldia just like they did with Mu but barely deployed their regular army to participate in direct military engagements. He knew for a fact during his time of studying at the Imperial War College in Esthirant, the Milishial Imperial Army had at least 2 Division sized High Readiness forces that could be deployed anywhere in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd civilization areas that had a coastline in a matter of days via their Mass Deployment Vessels. Other units could take months to be put together and organized but the fact the Milishials were believed to have such rapid force deployment capability in the first place placed a damper on things when all they pledged to Rodenius was a couple of peacekeeper battalions, air base security units, and a logistics regiment.
Of course, the peacekeepers were renowned warriors for their feats back in the 1st Civilization Area, being the premier expeditionary force deployed even faster than the regular army's high readiness components gave them some credence in their overall capabilities. But the reality is that it's expected that he, like the rest of the Parpaldian army on Rodenius, are to bear the main brunt of the fighting, something that didn't really sit well with him considering that the Parpaldian Army was also engaged in combat in the Northern Philades regions against the now disorganized demonic hordes of the now very dead Demon Lord Nosgorath, splitting manpower for what's supposed to be a conventional war.
An exhaustive sigh left the Sous-lieutenant's mouth. His body, tired. His psyche, worn out for the day. "Well at least there should be some grub left, maybe they can spare me some extra wine for the night if I kiss the quartermaster's ass enough." he grumbled to himself just as in the far distance he could hear running steps from someone presumably trying to relay some message to someone higher ranked than him.
Just as he reached the entrance to the mess hall, the air raid sirens began blaring with a wail that immediately dispelled any sense of hunger, exhaustion, or fatigue and instead replaced them with the feeling of being energized and fear. Immediately the Sous-lieutenant quickly rushed back to where he came, intending on joining his unit bracing for the incoming attack.
Along the way, loud clicks could be heard as the searchlights that belonged to the Parpaldian troops began turning on one by one. Their beams of bright light, powered by a dense core of a specially enchanted magic gem gave it the power required to have a cone of light that shot up into the night sky to spot for hostile aerial units. Following the activation of the search lights, the Parpaldian's response to enemy wyverns or aircraft, a quad Volee gun mounted on a platform that can rotate and elevate its barrels with a crew of four began firing only for the sounds to be overshadowed by something much louder and more devastating.
The Sous-lieutenant barely reached the open-air hallway before an explosion rocked the castle's compound followed closely by the thundering roars of USEA's aircraft. The ground shook, nearly causing the Sous-lieutenant to fall. It was at this moment he decided that there was no point in trying to re-join his unit on the other side of the castle what with all the explosions going off in and around the compound. Every detonation causing a reduction in the intensity of volee gun fire his comrades were lobbing in an almost futile attempt to stave off the air raid. Instead, the Sous-lieutenant rushed through the inner parts of the castle, running past other Milishial and Parpaldian soldiers and stacked crates of supplies and equipment in a bid to seek refuge within the most protected part of the redoubt, the command room located in one of the basements.
Soon enough, he reached one of the doors containing the staircase that led to the depths of the castle. His left hand gripped the brass handle, ready to turn it and finally reach safety, but then-.
Click
Click
Click
It was locked.
"Are you fucking-"
Boom!
Another explosion once again nearly caused him to lose his balance, but the Sous-lieutenant wasted no time in trying again at the door handle. He wasn't going to take his chances by dodging more of tonight's death just to find another door for refuge. With his right hand balled into a fist, he started having another attempt at the door handle while also bashing his fist onto it in the hopes someone on the other side opens it.
Bam
Bam
Bam
"Fucking open the door! Let me in for heaven's sake!"
Click
Click
Click
Bam
Bam
Bam
Just then, amid the chaos of war occurring outside, another soldier, one don in the triangular camouflage pattern of the HME rushed into the hallway, spotted him, and joined him as he immediately realised what he was trying to do.
"Its locked?!" asked the Milishial soldier with an urgent tone. His pupils dilated and his own face and uniform covered with grime and dirt.
"No, it's not! I'm just waiting for an invitation that's all!" the Sous-lieutenant sarcastically responded to the mind-boggling question. The soldier from the HME proceeded to mimic the action of the Sous-lieutenant in bashing the door, this time with both fists.
Bam
Bam
"We should try another-"
Boom!
"Good luck dodging those explosions then friend!"
Not wanting to waste any more time, the Milishial soldier tapped the Sous-lieutenant on his right shoulder to gain his attention. "Stand back." The Sous-lieutenant obliged and backed away from the locked door and later, the Milishial soldier immediately kicked the door with his right foot...only for him to collapse to the ground while grabbing onto his right knee and groan in pain.
"Argh! What in blazes?! By the emperor, what's that thing made of?!"
The Sous-lieutenant didn't even have time to shake his head at what he had just witnessed, but just as he was about to go back to bash his fist against the door, it swung open, revealing a Parpaldian soldier with a repeating rifle in his hands.
"Get in!" said the Parpaldian soldier and the Sous-lieutenant wasted no time helping the Milishial soldier up and getting inside.
...
The two men slowly made their way through the underground hallways that were only lit by candles as opposed to the magic powered lights that had been set up topside. All the while, explosions continued to rock the surface and shook the very foundation of the castle itself with power that rivalled some of Parpaldia's own siege canons back on the mainland.
Around them, communication officers dash across rooms via the central hallway, in their hands either orders to be transmitted or being received from various parts of the nearby region. There was such an urgency at what was going on that none of the communication officers paid any mind to the two men, some even forcefully pushing past the two just to get to another room to relay information.
As the Sous-lieutenant was about to set the Milishial soldier down gently along the hallway, his ears caught the shouts of the base commander going off in the room nearby, presumably at someone through the magicom.
"What do you mean those pointy eared bastards aren't sending anything our way?! There are attacks everywhere?!"
The Sous-lieutenant took a moment to pause to gauge just how bad it must be for the base commander to start resorting to calling elves from the HME in a less pleasant, colourful manner. But what really caught his attention was the final phrase. 'Attacks everywhere.'
As another round of explosions rocked the surface causing the dust from the ceiling to fall on top of him. The man wondered just how this war will progress from this point on. But with how shocked the base commander had sounded just a while ago, it probably won't be on their terms.
...
Milishial Imperial Air Service, 22nd Air Installation Security Detachment, Jin-Hark Field
March 7, 1641
The night sky constantly emitted ear-piercing screeches of thunder followed closely by explosions as USEAN aircraft began their bombing runs on targets throughout the occupied capital of Louria and the nearby airfield. Anti-aircraft artillery emplacements, mostly brought in by the 22nd Air Installation Security Detachment of the Milishial Imperial Air Service, began responding in kind to the threat above with an unpredictable but violent staccato of canon fire as dual-barrelled 25mm Ixion anti-aircraft guns lit up the sky in an attempt to wade off the dozens of USEAN aircraft that had begun dropping bombs on military installations inside and out of Jin-Hark.
"2 more coming left!" yelled one of the elves from the 22nd as he directed his three subordinates to shift the AA gun's fire at another group of hostile aircraft. Like a well-oiled machine, the two other crew members turned their respective hand-operated wheels. First to rotate, then elevate the 25mm gun barrels, while the third crew member prepared to fire.
As the air installation security forces valiantly attempted to rid the airspace of USEAN aircraft, Parpaldian soldiers scrambled towards any kind of shelter they could find. Some sought refuge within the makeshift control tower as while it wasn't the safest, it was the closest. Some of the more...level-headed soldiers made a beeline rush over the barren road back to the labyrinth of stone and mud buildings of Jin-Hark, intending to use the high concentration of civilians within the city as human shields as it was understood that USEA often took measures to not cause unjustified collateral damage. Despite that belief however, the Parpaldian soldiers heading into the city then bore witness to explosions erupting on the rooftops of Jin-Hark's skyline. The AA guns and communications equipment they and the Milishials had set up on the rooftops of various buildings started getting blown up one by one taking most if not all the retreating Parpaldian soldiers by horrific surprise.
Ratatatatata
The Ixion AA gun re-joined the cacophony of canon fire, explosions, shouts of orders, and the screams of the dying as it attempted to bring down at least one of the two USEAN planes that was spotted. Despite knowing that numerous other aircraft were present but weren't spotted due to the darkness of the night, confidence among the gun crew was unwavering. This was the exact same platform that had been with them since being pressed into service all those years ago. From the Milishial intervention in the Kingdom of Agartha because of a succession crisis to the pacification of Vestal as a means of expanding the empire's influence overseas, the dual-barrelled AA gun with its crew had shot down dozens of wyverns of all types protecting not only the interests of his majesty, but also the prestige of the empire. Despite the odds, there was no reason to doubt their own skill, and soon enough, their experience bore fruit.
Black smoke started trailing off one of the USEAN aircraft that they were aiming at, the searchlight that was highlighting it keeping their handiwork illuminated for all to see. For but a moment amid the thundering roars of other aircraft flying overhead and the explosion of bombs both near the airfield and within Jin-Hark itself, morale among the AA gun crews, the ones still alive that is, soared.
Just as the gun crew prepared to finish off the job, several large explosions coming from behind rocked them in their seats. Another flight of unspotted USEAN aircraft were able to fly in low and drop their payload. Their munitions literally tearing open the runway beyond recognition, plaguing its surface with clusters of craters that rendered it inoperable.
Boom!
"Ack!" yelled the gun director as he grabbed onto his helmet and cowered in his seat. The shockwave from another set of bombs being detonated way too close for comfort physically nudged the AA gun emplacement, causing it to tilt sideways before coming back to a stable position.
For but a minute the only thing he could hear was this loud, unbearable ringing sound within his elven ears. It was as though someone had taken a train bell and rang it only a hair's length away from the entrance to his ear canal. As he regained his bearings, the gun director turned to face the direction of which the most recent bomb hits originated from and was met with a cloud of black smoke that started dissipating. And as the shroud of black smoke began to lift, the apparent damage done became clear. A parked Type-30 Floating Ship of the Heavens, the heavy cargo lift aircraft of the Imperial Air Service was now a smouldering wreck for all to see. An explosion seemingly originating from dead centre of the aircraft had gutted it thoroughly all the while fires still raged around it.
The gun director could only stare in pure shock, frozen in place at what he was witnessing.
"How...how is this even-"
Before the gun director could finish his sentence, a yell from a nearby searchlight operator caught his attention, something that caused a cold chill to creep up his spine despite what he had just witnessed.
"The castle!"
Instinctively he turned to now face the city whose skyline was now littered with fires breaking out on rooftops and billowing smoke marking locations that had been hit by USEAN bombs. And then amid all the visual obstruction from the destruction in the lower portions of the city, he saw it. Castle Hark, the de-factor regional capital assigned by the Parpaldia Empire and also the headquarters for all joint Milishial-Parpaldian forces on the continent had parts of it blown off. At least one of its proud towers that housed an anti-aircraft emplacement had its top half completely engulfed in flames while another had begun to collapse towards the ground. As the fires raged and black smoke billowed into the sky, the proud flags from both superpowers appeared from a distance to be in tatters, only for another bomb hit the rooftop, completely destroying the top portion of the central castle and along with the two flags.
Before the gun director could even rally his crew to get back into action, one of his subordinates turned around and looked over his shoulder before immediately getting off his seat and running away. Upon witnessing what was a clear dereliction of duty, the gun director stood up from his seat and yelled. "Wait! Where are you going you coward?! Get back here and fight!"
Before the gun director could do anything else, his position erupted into a brilliant explosion, instantaneously killing him and the other two men who were operating the AA gun.
A yet to be spotted USEAN aircraft had flown in from another angle and dropped two laser guided bombs on his position seemingly as retribution for causing damage to one of their aircraft. A damaged aircraft that was able to crash land back at the Antonio Luna Base with its pilot safely ejecting after belly landing.
As the night went on, AA gun fire and searchlight beams all across the occupied nation began to dwindle rapidly. For the defenders of the joint forces on Lourian soil, there would be no respite for the foreseeable future as USEAN aircraft will reign the skies, hitting any and all suspected targets that may be of use to the occupation forces. Logistic hubs, vital crossings, airfields. The USEAN Air Force would do its best ensure that the next phase of the war would proceed smoothly.
...
House of Lords, Parpaldia Empire
March 10, 1641
3 Days.
That was how long it took for communications between the joint Parpaldian and Milishial forces on Rodenius and their home nations to break down.
Shouts and accusations reverberated against the grand marble floors and elaborately decorated walls as a war of words was being waged while an actual war occurred in lands many in the House of Lords would never set foot on. Arde stoically stood under the immense verbal assault upon his ears, the middle-aged general trying to filter out what he deemed necessary to take in as considerations. But honestly at this point, the words were simply entering Arde's right ear and promptly exited the left with nothing being stuck as there was nothing that was being said can be considered to be helpful.
"You gave us assurances that in the event of war, it would be bloody for the USEANs! Not for it to culminate in this" yelled one particular Lord as he stood up from his seat and pointed his index finger at the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, seemingly trying to paint him as a scapegoat for false expectations that had been set. This however, unfazed the supreme commander as he maintained his almost poker-face like expression. Climbing through the ranks of the Imperial Military had thought Arde that life within it was one of cutthroat politics at its finest. There was always a backroom deal to be made, always a veil threat to be issued, and always scandals to exploit or hide. This was all par the course of those who survived long enough in Parpaldia's internal game of cloaks and daggers, and it mattered to him not one bit. Despite the reports of almost no confirmed losses suffered among the USEAN aircraft that had launched raid after raid over the border for the first 3 days before communications were finally severed, Arde knew all too well that realistically, there was nothing the House of Lords could do to him other than scream and hurl insults. To change the very top of the Parpaldian military in the midst of war was a death sentence for reorganization as the ensuing power struggle between vying power-hungry officers will only intensify with an empty seat at the top of the hierarchy. Of course for the time being, he would still need to bear with the incessant complaints coming in from people who knew nothing about war. As the barrage of accusations died down, Arde took this opportunity to speak up, maybe try to give the pompous rich nobles some semblance of peace of mind.
"It is without a doubt that we have suffered greatly in the opening days of this war. Never in our history have we suddenly found ourselves on the receiving end of a strike that was able to paralyze our ability to coordinate a war effort in mere days. But I can assure you, honourable members of the House of Lords, that this war will not with our defeat."
Murmurs emerged from the seated nobles, some understandably curious at what Arde was alluding to while others scoffed at the idea considering what had just happened to their occupation forces on Rodenius. With the absence of a short-tempered noble standing up to challenge what Arde had said, the supreme commander continued.
"I have been informed by Milishial intelligence, that due to the efforts we had taken in building up our defences on the continent, the fighting to evict our troops would be met with high casualties for USEA's allies. The Milishial's also believed that this was the reason why USEA was so keen on arming and training the Qua-Toynians and Quilans, so that it is the natives that would have to get their paws dirty engaging our troops on undesirable terms. This reinforces the assessment that USEA is likely to not deploy any of their own ground assets for direct combat as they would fear suffering casualties that would incur such a major domestic penalty for its leadership."
Slowly Arde started to notice slight nods emerging from some of those lords that were seated, seemingly throwing their faith in not him but the intelligence apparatus of the HME. 'Tch. Of course, you'd listen to them. If they said that waste water from Duro tasted like wine made by the gods, you'd all happily gulp it down.' Snickered Arde on the inside. Once again, not a single lord stood up to challenge what had been said. Taking this as a sign, he continued. "The two Rodenius nations as believed by intelligence, is that they retain only but a fraction of their population as a result of the war against Louria. Even if they were to be ingrained with an almost fanatical belief that we, the Parpaldian Empire are not worthy of holding on to our fruits of conquest, the dwindling manpower as a result of casualties will force them to seek peace, most probably a status quo type of peace that would ensure our dominion over Louria."
...
The House of Lords was dismissed a while later after the testimony from the Supreme Commander. Its members having conflicting thoughts about the predicament that the empire had found themselves in. Amid the marble-floored hallways of the House of Lords, murmurs erupted as several cliques of Lords discussed among themselves about what they thought of the analysis given by Milishial intelligence. Rekindled confidence and pervasive scepticism were rife among the nobles now speaking amongst themselves with voices that could just barely reach earshot of others who were holding opposing beliefs. Those who had found credence in the Milishial report believed that a favourable peace treaty can be attained if USEA's allies suffer enough casualties and are unable to fight any longer. After all, USEA might be providing material aid to the independent Rodenius nations and surely would not risk their own troops engaging in direct military actions lest they suffer unacceptable casualties. It was a tough pill to swallow for some Lords, especially those that held a long-time perception that the Parpaldia Empire retained the largest and most advanced military on this side of the world only to be sidestepped by some new nation in the Great Orient that literally appeared out of nowhere and had thrown the regional status quo into question.
Iussum tuned his ears in, listening to all the optimists and pessimist as he walked along the hallway. All manners of opinions and predictions only divided into either win or lose camps. But he was more worried about the confliction that was on the inside rather than out. A part of Iussum wanted to believe the report from Milishial intelligence as genuine, that even in the event USEA does deploy troops for direct combat role, every single dead or wounded would incur such a heavy political penalty on USEA's leadership that they would be forced to seek an end to hostilities with a restoration of the status quo. After all, it made sense from the grand scheme of things. USEA was by no doubt more technologically advanced than Parpaldia, even more so when taking into account that they were capable of harming even the most advanced of warships belonging to the Holy Milishial Empire which was far beyond what Parpaldia could develop. But it was thanks in part to this tech disparity that it was believed it can work against them from a domestic point of view, alluding that losses against technologically inferior enemies is a sign failure of leadership which can sway public opinion to push their leaders to sue for peace.
Iussum paused for a minute once he reached the grand ornamental double doors that led to the outside world. A gust of wind blew through the open doorway, wind that did not carry with it the sort of scent that was once common on an average day in Esthirant with all the shops and street stalls serving delicacies. It was also eerily quiet save for the sound of men marching in formation as they patrol the perimeter of the House of Lords on the lookout for any trouble. Ever since that night's protest and subsequent crackdown, Esthirant, the ones proud Pearl of the Philades, might as well be a ghost town.
Just as he was about to walk over to a horse drawn carriage, the sight of the head of the gendarmerie, General Ciel, caused him to stop in place. The General was first greeted by salutes from nearby patrolling gendarmerie before reaching Iussum proper.
"What is it general?"
The general at first did not say anything in response to Iussum's question, instead opting to hand him over a brick like device that was understood to be a tool used to record conversations either in person or over magicoms. Only once after Iussum looked at the device carefully did Ciel started speaking.
"This was recorded late last night. Brought to my attention by one of my men who was monitoring Esthirant's periphery broadcasts.
Iussum gripped the device in his right hand before having his thumb press on one of its buttons. A blood red light emerged from the sides of the device as it powered on followed soon by a female voice. Initially being garbled, it then formulated only one discernible word that can be comprhended.
"...return."
...
Oranatha Castle, Annonrial Empire
March 10, 1641
At roughly the same time, in lands far to the south of the known world, a meeting was being held within the confines of Oranatha Castle. An air of tension hung over the backdrop of a meeting that included most of the Annonrial Empire's senior leadership. The deafening silence, only broken ever so often by the shuffling of parchment or the coughs of some of those present permeated in the air.
Seated at the very end of a long rectangular table, the leader of the empire, Emperor Zaratosthra maintained a straight, almost monolithic posture as he went over several reports that were given to him. His expression remained unchanged as he flipped through one parchment after another. The first batch came from the Support Department of the Ravernal Empire Revival Management Agency, the same talking points repeated for years now emphasizing the need to recover the Revival Beacons situated in the Gahara Thearchy and Kingdom of Quila after the successful operation to recover the one located in the Kingdom of Esperanto. But with the presence of USEA that had established a solid presence in areas close to where the beacons are suspected to be, the plan for the time being was shelved. The caveat for this bundle of reports was that with only one beacon, the department was now working on trying to establish contact with the fabled Mystar Satellite Network in orbit in a bid to hasten the return of their beloved ancestors.
The emperor placed aside the first batch of parchment that was promptly taken away by one of his servants who maintained a bowed head before moving away. Farther down the table, the head of the department whose sole purpose was to bring about the return of their ancestors stood up to face the direction of the emperor and bowed before saying. "Thank you for looking through my report your majesty!".
A simple gesture from Emperor Zaratosthra's right hand was all it took to convey that the head of the department may take his seat again and to move the meeting forward. This time, another bundle of reports was carefully laid before the emperor by another servant, this time however, they came from two sources, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the relatively new Ministry of External Actions. The compiled report that had been cohesively put together by senior members from both ministries had taken time, but to the emperor the wait was worth it as a slight smile emerged from his lips.
"I assume that we've confirmed that the war has spread to the east?" Asked the emperor as he flipped over the first report given to him. His eyes met with a literal wall of text that he himself couldn't bare to go through in a single seating.
"Yes, your majesty." Responded the head of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs before continuing. "We've confirmed from our sleeper cells in the Holy Milishial Empire that they are now fighting a two front war the only issue is..."
The pause that followed caused the emperor to look up from the report with eyes that either showcased curiosity...or annoyance. As he squinted his eyes and locked them with those from the head of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, an annoyed tone was all he could muster as he pressed the man further. "Well? I do not have all day. Out with it."
The head of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs could only meekly turn his head to look towards his counterpart from the Ministry of External Actions, seemingly pleading for him to get up and answer instead of staying quiet. Upon witnessing this, the emperor could only give out a sigh of frustration as he locked his fingers together and looked to the wall to his right that was painted with a mural depicting the ideal light winger. Without even turning his head back to the grand ornamental table and those gathered around it, the emperor spoke. "Okay-What can the Ministry of External Actions add on farther then?"
This time, the metaphorical spotlight shined down on the light winger who was head of the ministry whose foundation and mission were to conduct covert actions in foreign nations. But unlike his counterpart from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, he stood up and took on a posture that exhibited pride and honour to prove himself that he was worthy of holding such a prestigious rank. "Despite now fighting a two-front war, there is no indication that the central leadership in the Holy Milishial Empire is planning to introduce a draft or initiate general mobilization. So far, they seem keen on deploying their best troops, or rather undesirables in very limited numbers, most notably volunteers to Mu and peacekeepers to Rodenius. My ministry believes that the act of USEA sinking one of their Orichalum-Class vessels had steered their decision to avoid deploying anything else overseas in fear of unacceptable losses."
A groan came from the emperor and though this may often cause even the highest ranked military personnel of the Annonrial Defence Forces to quiver, the leader of the Ministry of External Actions remained unaffected as he continued. "As you know your majesty, this also means that Operation Usurper will have to be put on hold until the HME starts to really shift into a total war mode, when the population is much more focused on things happening abroad rather than domestic."
The emperor averted his gaze from the mural covered wall and locked his eyes with the head of the Ministry of External Actions. He did not see fear or nervousness but only dedication and bravery even when faced with telling him that his magnum opus had faced a setback. "So, what exactly do you require, to...meld the situation to our liking? I assume to rectify this situation, more resources are in order?"
"All I need is time and funding your majesty. With that I can guarantee you, with the assurance that I wager my life on, this war will escalate that would force the Milishials to declare general mobilization. This should give Operation Usurper the cover it needs to be an unmitigated success."
"I see...so then tell me, specifically, where will these resources be used in achieving that goal?" asked the emperor as his ears perked in curiosity.
"Altaras."
...
Parpaldian Imperial Army 76th Fusilier Regiment, Great Wastes, Occupied Louria
April 7, 1641
The Great Wastes of Southern Louria. An almost endless expanse of sand, heat, pain, and sweat.
Despite the sand covered hellscape coupled with the nigh inhospitable heat, the Parpaldian Army's 76th Fusilier Regiment manned their posts with an unbreakable sense of resolve. Their personnel stolidly stood against the soon to come tide of barbarians in the form of those on the other side of the border. Their weapons from the humble Poulain Repeating Rifle to the jaw dropping rate of fire of the Volee Guns remained in tip top shape, ready to challenge all comers. And their blue coats and white trousers, the image of the Imperial Army, kempt despite such arduous conditions.
Of course, this was the tale that many back on the mainland were told, for as of this moment, the embellishment of the truth does not change the reality on the ground.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Geysers of sand emerged from the landscape as the ground violently rocked from the impact of artillery being fired far beyond whatever the Parpaldians had in their arsenal. The trench line manned by the 76th Fusiliers, reinforced by magic from the terrain sculptors otherwise known as combat engineers from the HME's peacekeeping corps maintained its structural integrity, preventing the walls from collapsing onto the beleaguered defenders as they lay in wait for an incoming attack. The constant shelling had come only recently, with what came before it being airstrikes from aircraft that flew far beyond anything they had ever seen before. Like clockwork, the roars of such aircraft would overwhelm the sense of hearing of those manning the trenches only for those roars to be overshadowed by powerful explosions that brought with it a literal rain of steel and death on anyone caught outside any of the dugouts of the trenches. The "Night of Hell" as some call it, referring to when USEAN aircraft began bombing their positions almost relentlessly a month ago was believed to be the prelude for an incoming attack.
Trench strongpoints with either gatling guns or magic canons? Gone. Logistic lines carrying supplies to their position? Severed. Communications with high command? Very funny. The situation in technical terms for the men in the trenches was less than ideal to say the least.
A cloud of thick white smoke had descended upon the trench line after a near constant barrage of high explosives from the early morning hours. Like a fog masking the unknown, it festered the feeling of dread to those who were still alive manning their positions. Slowly, the billowing white smoke started to rise, if it weren't for the absence of any wind, it would've enveloped the trench line beneath its shroud.
"Shit...what the hell is this...?" said one of the bewildered Parpaldian soldiers as he gripped the handle of his repeating rifle harder, ready to bring it up and start shooting at the first sign of trouble. Like the men next to him, their uniforms were to put it generously, in tatters. Their Shakos were gone, cross belts missing, and most of them had their white lapels opened rather than buttoned up. The only thing that could be considered uniformed throughout the ranks was the dirt on their uniforms and the bandoleer they all carried with them.
Behind them inside a shallow dugout, a magicom operator desperately tried to raise the command post in a town several trench lines behind them, the only semblance of commmand hierarchy after being cut off from Jin-Hark. Nobs were carefully turned to control how much magic was being used to transmit and receive information but a healthy dose of slamming the top of the console was not unheard of as the minutes pass by.
Suddenly, the magicom began to fizzle in a transmission, catching the attention of the operator and the soldiers close to the dugout.
<<...all units, prepare for enemy attack. Forward positions report->>
Those manning the trench line on lookout duty who had tuned their ears to listen to the message were suddenly overtaken by what could only be described as infernal roars of monsters emanating from the shroud of smoke that still lingered in front of their trenches. Almost immediately the men took up arms, bringing their rifles up to the parapet ready to repel whatever that was coming through.
Some of the soldiers, in particular the fresh conscripts who were promised that Louria was going to be simple occupation duty started to visibly shake despite resting their rifles on the parapet. Another heart stopping roar came from beyond the shroud but this time, there would be no delay in what was coming.
Almost immediately a pack of what could be described humanoid bear like creatures with plates of camouflaged armour around their torso burst through the thick smoke and made a rush towards their position.
"What the hell are those?!" yelled one of the soldiers in the trenches before the cracks from the first volley of bullets followed. Following their training, they aimed centre mass and let loose only to realise with horror that though their rounds were hitting, it did little to stop or even dissuade the incoming bears that were rapidly gaining closing the distance. Without even waiting for the order to fire again, another volley followed. One soldier widened his eyes when he could swear, he noticed his bullets harmlessly impacting the camouflage plate on one of the bear's torso. But just as most of the men were about to fire another volley, it was too late.
The soldiers backed away from the parapets once the bears got close enough to leap into the trenches, turning it from a ranged fight that suited armies like Parpaldia to a melee fight one that was suited for the predominantly demi-human Quilans. Some of the Parpaldian soldiers drew their bayonets from their bandoliers while others frantically tried to aim their repeating rifles at the intruders. One of the soldiers who was closest to a bear tried to stab it in the neck only for the hand wielding the blade to be caught by his supposed kill and crushed on the spot, causing a very audible cracking of his bones as though one would crush an eggshell. Another tried to reload his repeating rifle only to be clubbed to death by one of the bear's that had leapt into the trench behind him carrying a mace, leaving only a bloody mess for where he once stood. Soon, a desperate defence against an enemy turned into a rout with any Parpaldian lucky enough to not get caught in the initial melee fight climbing over the other side of the trenches and escaping, equipment being abandoned be damned. All the while, their screams of terror could still be heard as the Quilans began reinforcing the first trench line that had been taken.
Upon getting the opportunity to look around to observe the work his compatriots had accomplished; the presumed leader of the bears gave an inspiring roar to push his men forward. Shortly after, they were joined by 'regular' Quilan troops who were don with a similar camouflage pattern of khaki and tan and in their hands an eclectic mix of either M-16s, Pindad SS1s, or SAR-88 rifles. The flag of the Kingdom proudly emblazoned in a mute shade of brown and tan on their upper sleeves.
"Radio. Get me radio." Yelled one of the Quilan officers as he holstered his M-16 and grabbed onto a radio set that was being carried by one of his subordinates.
<<Your majesty we've taken the first trench and are waiting for the next barrage to cover our advance.>>
While waiting for a reply, the officer took a good long look at the mess that had been made in the trench. Blood stained the trench's floor like someone had spilled a jar of red ink. The stench from the recently fired repeating rifles lingered in the air, irritating some of the more scent-sensitive troops. And of course, a Parpaldian corpse lay there motionless every 2-3 steps or so, scattered all along the trench line with all manners of cause of death. One particular corpse stood out; his head was essentially crushed while the pink brain matter could be seen through its cracks. His face deformed to the point that it looked like the fallen Parpaldian's eyes, nose, mouth, and ears all converged onto one spot with cracks in between that oozed out blood. The Quilan officer nearly regurgitated his rations that he had for lunch mere hours ago, but a reply came through the comms, and he was able to compose himself upon hearing the voice of their monarch.
<<Good Captain. Very good! Press on the attack once the signal is given. The USEAN officer here has informed me that the next artillery and smoke barrage are to begin shortly.>>
<<Understood your majesty. It will be done.>>
Suddenly, just behind where the officer stood, a voice came from the seemingly abandoned dugout. He and the radio operator quickly pointed their rifles at the opening, fearing someone might still be in there and was about to lunge at them. But upon closer inspection, all they found in the dugout was the foul smell of someone who has not been observing proper hygiene and a lone radio. The two covered their mouth and noses in response but proceeded deeper inside to inspect the abandoned radio closer.
<<All forces hold the line at all costs. The Cuirassiers will begin their counterattack shortly and with their land dragons we can crush these barbarians and force them to the negotiating table! I say again->>
The two men remained unfazed by the bravado in tone of the voice coming through the radio. Despite all the USEANs had thrown at them in the month prior, this one particular Parpaldian commander seemed confident in his forces ability to repel the Quilan attack. As the two men walked out of the dugout, the radio operator turned to the officer with a question. "Sir, we're expecting that attack, right?"
The officer responded by first nodding. "Yeah. Don't worry about them, our objective is to take the trenches and the nearby town. The USEANs will deal with those land dragons heading our way."