Two White Eagles (Nihonkoku Shoukan fic)

The Beginning of the Storm

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
February 20, 1640 C.C.Y..

Kingdom of Louria

Frontier


Fresh snow lay on the fields hiding everything in a pleasant white. And the small village visible in the distance, because of its lights, next to the hills created a fairy-tale image of some land of ice and snow. It was easy to forget what country one had just been in, as well as why.

But for a group of four walking on footsteps, this was impossible. All four were dressed in winter clothes and overlaid with white coats. On their heads, meanwhile, were only hoods in pure white blending in perfectly with their surroundings.

The cold wind blew and whistled shrilly, but it didn't matter much to the walkers. Only the powerful frost of distant Siberia and Alaska could be a problem for them, anything that didn't come close in sub-zero temperatures was just a minor thing.

What they were concerned about was only the accomplishment of the task. Therefore, like hunters, they followed the tracks of their game that had wandered far from their home all the way here. Undaunted, they approached the village in the distance, while their eyes began to see details.

They were late, the lights they saw were in fact bonfires and burning houses. Fortunately, their game was in between at the bonfires warming themselves and looking at their captured booty.

Laughter and cries of despair, pleading and pain reached the ears of the hunters. The hunters' faces, hitherto indistinct in expression, hardened. They didn't like the Lourians, that's a fact, nevertheless it doesn't mean they'll watch with satisfaction at the barbarism.

A new better world has arrived, and its deputies intend to implement it.

Without a spoken word in the real world, only through Topaz's digital combat network, the orders were given and all four moved forward in wide strides overcoming the separation between them and their targets.

Snow flew out from under their feet with every step and the loud crackle of breaking icy snow popped up with every step. Nevertheless, the barbarian game busy playing was blind. They did not even put up a guard thinking that they had managed to lose their pursuers.

They could not even imagine the existence of beings from whose sight there are no traces to hide. For whom fresh snow is just a trifle of no great importance to their eyes and their minds.

That's why as soon as one of them left the "fun" to dash behind the houses just on the side of the arriving hunters, he became so terrified that he uncontrollably let go as soon as one of the hunters caught up to him at the wall. He turned around at the last moment wanting to see who was coming and in response got a swift stab in the throat with a simple knife, taking away his voice with which he could warn his companions.

He only saw his assassin's face for a brief moment before a powerful knife blow broke his neck, and her glowing ice-cold green eyes etched themselves into his soul for eternity, haunting him henceforth for eons of what he received at the will of the higher judges.

The assassin pulled the knife from the pierced neck all the way out and the corpse of Lyman, who wore a cloak taken from the natives on his armor, slid slowly down the wall leaving a bloody glow.

One brief moment, and one of the targets had just left this world for ever, and his companions didn't even realize that death had come after them.

"Eliminated," said the assassin through Topaz using her digital mouth and her companions in less than a human second received this information updating their neural networks reducing the number of targets to be removed by one.

"Accepted, Heka." She received a message from her commander. "Move into position."

"Understood," Heka replied and, leaving her corpse behind, moved ahead to the position her commander had designated while running.

It wasn't difficult for her, in fact she was able to monitor her generated noise and the interconnected combat network of all four linked to the latest generation of sensors updated in real time everything that was happening. Therefore, sneaking between opponents was all too easy for her. In the meantime, she could hear how the others had set up in their positions in the village surrounding the whole and thus cutting off a possible escape route.

No one was supposed to flee the village today.

She passed another soldier, although she didn't understand the language the tone of voice and the rubbing of her hands made it obvious what she was complaining about. She then crept into an out-of-the-way house from which she could overlook the Lemans playing by the barn, taking advantage of the fact that the Lemans had punched a sizable hole in the side wall of the house, built of massive wooden logs.

Next to the house, meanwhile, lay the corpse of one of the trolls, covered with blankets and underneath it prepared kindling.

The house itself was not overly special, to Heki it looked like it had been pulled out of some open-air museum. The rooms were all frozen and all the contents had been thrown out of the cabinets taking only what the attackers considered important. The rest rest rested on the floor creating a mess, Heka slowly and carefully took steps not wanting to make unnecessary noise.

She approached the coveted window, opened the shutters to the outside then took her rifle and aimed it at the one who looked like a commander because he was in the middle of all the fun, against the backdrop of a huge bonfire, one of a couple that warmed the area. A quick glance of her digital eyes at the thermometer showed a temperature of 20 degrees Celsius. She raised a puzzled eyebrow for a moment at this anomaly, but after a moment focused again on aiming.

"In position."

"Begin." ordered the commander confidently and Heka pulled the trigger after which the world slowed down for her. A bullet flew out of the barrel and as soon as she confirmed the kill she immediately picked another one after which she opened fire again. They hadn't yet realized that the gunshot had come from where and that their commander had been killed and another Laymen had fallen dead. Only then were the shouts of amusement interrupted by cries of horror but it was too late, the slaughter had just begun.

Heka was joined by her comrades in other parts of the village, who opened fire with their guns, two submachine guns and an assault rifle.

The bang of the guns caused a panic attack, and the lack of a visible enemy only exacerbated the attack especially since they did not expect their enemy to attack in the dark.

Meanwhile, Heka took down another opponent with single shots aimed at sensitive points and the cartridge casings fell on the frozen floor clattering like some kind of kill confirmation sound. She quickly fired the entire 30-round magazine, pressed the magazine drop and inserted a new one without a second thought then resumed shooting at the ducks.

The magazine fell down hitting a flask thrown from the windowsill by one of the attackers, the flask rolled towards a hidden but not fully closed basement hidden under one of the cabinets and which the attackers had overlooked and hit a trapdoor that was partially elevated.

This, in turn, caused Heka to hear a loud squeal of terror and a deafening fall underground. She quickly turned her head locating the source of the sound with ease, raised her eyebrow slightly then resumed firing. This time if you listened you could see that she started firing faster than before.

More and more Łymians fell at barely second intervals being felled from their feet. Heka noticed that many were shouting about some Emroy, for that word was repeated frequently in their mouths. Another thing noted in her neural network to investigate.

Focused on shooting down more opponents, she seemed completely deaf to what was going on around her. Or at least, that's what the creeping Lemian in a scout outfit thought. It was a funny sight to see a man walking slowly in the dark, wearing a hood made of wolf on his head and wrapped in what not long ago were blankets.

The problem was that Heka had heard from as soon as he stepped over the threshold, the door she didn't hear but guessed that it had been ripped off its hinges. Another thing was that his breathing was hard not to hear. She calculated his footsteps and distance from her all the while focused on shooting at more wetbacks who finally caught on to where she was and tried to evade her, the problem being that they would then bump into her companions.

Just as Heka was ejecting another magazine from her gun, suddenly the Łymian threw himself at her and a loud "Look out!" in Ladonian rang out along with the loud opening of the flap. Nice gesture by the kid, thought Heka. But completely unnecessary, she added after a moment.

Quickly without a second thought, she turned 180 degrees at that time using her rifle like a piker, although the blade was a flask. The Łymian man was startled at the last moment to see this, he tried to get out of the line of impact but Heka was faster and hit him in the sternum with her weapon choking all the air out of him.

The Łymian made a loud sound at this, after which he fell backwards and fell on his butt. He tried to catch his breath, meanwhile Heka put a new magazine in the gun, loaded the weapon and took aim.

"Ey." She said to him in Polish. The Łymian understood the meaning and raised his head. Quickly his face was pierced with fear seeing a barrel pointed at him in front of his eyes. Heka smiled maliciously. "Enjoy burning in hell, barbarian."

The soldier tried to resist but Heka pulled the trigger of the rifle without ceremony. The scout became suddenly silent, and his hand hung in the air for a moment before falling inertly, his whole body resisting for a moment before flying backwards onto the littered floor.

She then turned to the child hiding under the basement floor. "Stay!" she said in Ladonian, the language of the local land, showing him by flashing him what to do. The child looked at her for a moment, it seemed to this small creature, to Heki's eye about four years old, that an angel had just arrived to save the innocent and punish the guilty.

This was also enhanced by the fact that Heka wore a white hood, under the hood she had back-length hair so light it looked like ash, and her glowing digital blue eyes gave the impression of an inhuman superior being seeing everything.

And her simulated voice through a synthesizer creating a strange melody for the child's ears was even what the child imagined by how angels speak.

Therefore, it nodded without resistance and slowly climbed down but stopped for a moment and asked. "Will you come back?" One simple word, spoken in the pleading but non-imposing tone of a small being. A being whose life had just been destroyed. Walking to the kitchen, Heka saw other family members finished, a man with a broken head, two older boys nailed to the wall with nails.

She did not see the women, but she did not foresee a light fate. Though seeing that the child asked if she would return and not if she would help, she had a not-so-pleasant feeling about what had happened to them. Especially since the child's eyes were somehow dead to the world, although the last spark of life was looking at her.

Heka nodded slowly and replied with a slight smile, "I'll be back. Now hide." The child nodded slowly then reluctantly went downstairs. Heka quickly reached the trapdoor, moved one of the cabinets to hide that whatever it was, she even covered it with trash to be sure. After which she marked where it was with a marker.

As soon as she marked, she began to hear louder and louder shouts and breathless breathing. A sign of the approaching Lymians to her positions. She clicked her tongue pictorially, as she obviously had one. Then she switched her rifle to continuous fire. After which she took out a grenade, pulled the pin and hurled it out the window.

She waited a moment before exploding, then jumped out the window herself and started shooting. This time, instead of single shots, she fired a whole series, liquidating the surprised Laymen with a sudden explosion like an experienced scytheman mowing down grain.

Any attempt at hand-to-hand combat with Hekka was out of the question. She would fire a few rounds to one side, then throw herself into a run for the house, occasionally reloading and stopping again, firing, running away.

She did this for a few minutes, knocking out a fair number of opponents although opponents noticed that she circled around one house, the one she had just jumped out of, and killed anyone who got too close.

Normally they would have taken advantage of this, but the speed with which Heka eliminated the Lymians, combined with the losses they had suffered earlier in the escape and battle for this village, made them prefer to look for an escape route rather than check what the angel of death was guarding so fiercely.

The problem was that as soon as Heka noticed this, she threw herself into pursuit. She wasn't the only one, the sounds of gunfire were coming closer and closer to her, a sign that the Łymians had begun to retreat deeper into the village. The loud roars of the creatures called trolls quieted down one by one as precise shots took their lives.

The pig-like shrieking of beings whose appearance literally looks like a pig on two legs turned into panicked shrieks, they tried to shout something in the direction of Heki and her companions. They seemed to be begging for their lives, next to them the Łymians were shrieking at the creatures or doing the same themselves.

Only huge mountains of flesh in the form of trolls screeched and walked furiously at the attackers trying to disable them forever.

Unfortunately, the Hunters disposed of everyone with mechanical precision and the coolness of unfeeling machines. The order was one, liquidate all the escapees, preferably fast enough for the Lourians not to catch on to their existence. There was no word on prisoners of war.

So Heka, with a lack of any emotion, killed one by one anyone who got under her barrel. The loud shriek of a desperate charge knocked her out of her rhythm as she fired another magazine and reached into her holdings to realize that this was the last magazine.

Her opponent didn't look like a first-timer, although he wasn't wearing armor or even visible trying to put it on. Only a helmet on his head with feathers. Although he shouted it was more to try to paralyze her with a shout than to scream madly like some idiot.

Moreover, it was noticeable that he was a veteran.

The man reached over and thrust his short gladius-looking sword. Heka let go of the rifle that she needed for nothing in this situation. She grabbed his hand holding the blade then flipped it over herself using leverage. Then as soon as he fell, she reached for the gun, pulled the cock and put a 9mm bullet into his head.

She looked around, they responded to her gaze with fear, they noticed that this monster knows how to kill not only at a distance but also at close range. Even experienced veterans, many campaigns without much effort. It was as if it did not know the word fatigue.

All in all, she did not know, she only knew wear and tear or exhaustion but fatigue never concerned her.

But she did not have the opportunity to see how many she would manage to kill with her hands and knife. The commander's loud "Get down!" in her head prevented her from playing any further. She immediately obeyed the command and after a while the surviving opponents fell to the ground like puppets on strings when the strings were cut off.

As soon as the voices rang out that the area was clear, she stood up. With a quick glance, she realized that her companions had killed everyone else. She put the pistol back in its holster and picked up her rifle from the ground but slung it over her shoulder.

"Heka, may I know why you were guarding around this house all the time?" Her commander, Umvierback, asked her.

"A civilian in the building, Lieutenant." replied Heka briefly.

"Explain." instructed Umvierback raising her eyebrows.

"The child in the basement, hidden most likely at the last minute by the parents, most likely by the mother, the corpse of the woman was in the kitchen, the condition of the corpse indicated desperation an attempt at distraction and a rape ending in moderation." Explained Heka in an impersonal tone, the commander hearing this bit her lower lip in displeasure.

After thinking about it for a while, she said, "Heka, take the kid out. There's nothing here for him. If he wants to take something, let him take it." Heka nodded with understanding.

"Umneunia and Gelf, scour the countryside to be sure, take out every civilian. The living to me, the dead in front of the house. Kill the Lymians on the spot, and throw the abrasive ones out the window." She turned to the other two.

"I accepted." Umneunia replied, being her twin to the point that she even had a vertical scar through her eye as well, though she had one on her right eye while Umvierback had one on her left.

"Understood," said Gelf somewhat sleepily, a girl of low height and childlike beauty, but woe to anyone who mistakes her for an innocent child.

The commander herself, meanwhile, began looking for a shovel, having failed in getting rid of the Lymians before they did damage but at least they could clean up. Give the slain one last decent farewell before they turn to dust, even those who had done nothing good in their lifetime.

Not a big deal overall, but making them more human than many of those in whom the heart beats and blood instead of oil drives their entire body. They at least have a choice if they want to be murderers.

What choice do machines designed for war and hidden under the bodies of inconspicuous women have?

After all, they are just dolls.

February 24, 1640 C.C.Y./ 2021 AD.

Principality of Que-Toyne

Border Forest

Base "Gate"


It took six days, barely a week to turn the entire area around the Gate from a quiet corner of the forest into an advanced Base of Operations. Sappers of the 1st Prussian Marine Division cleared a straight road from the village of Drowaf to the Gate with the help of local woodcutters and villagers.

The freshly felled wood was used to build wooden camp structures in which the Klaus Neef Unit was placed. Camouflage nets were deployed over the entire area to cover the terrain from possible Lourian scouts although designated patrols of soldiers armed with PZPR Piorun deployed at posts in the woods were to shoot down anything that came here.

The chances of a Lourian appearance were nevertheless slim, the forest located on the border between the two countries was sizable and impassable for large formations of troops. It even acted as a barrier that channeled movement in certain directions, more specifically to the two great guest roads north and south of the forest. Small scout troops could get through, albeit with difficulty, and would still be forced to march in the open later. Airborne scouts, on the other hand, have better paths with which to sneak across the border.

Even so, the forest itself had no name ot a primeval forest of the sort many on the continent have. To distinguish it from many others, and to acknowledge the fact that in Que-Toyne's wars with Louria it was a serious obstacle to attackers from both sides, it was accepted to say Borderland, but this name is mainly used by the military.

The forest itself, despite the fact that the prevailing winter weather, quite severe for Prussian conditions but for the natives was average, was nevertheless a difficult area to penetrate and comb. Maybe there were no leaves on the trees, but the branches themselves were so thick and dense that they were able to obscure the sky by themselves. Which was no less astonishing to the downloaded scientists than the Gate. How can these trees support this weight?

Fortunately for the soldiers of the Fourth Rota, this was not their concern. Their worry was that they had to march into the other side and secure it. It was a difficult task, and they had to prepare for the outing in six days, with really limited means of finding out what was there. Sending drones to the other side was ineffective, any drone that covered a certain distance would suddenly lose communications, and autonomous drones were needed by the regiment to patrol the border.

From there, the matter must be handled the old-fashioned way, on their feet and forward killing anything that falls under their barrels. Fortunately, they had a simple view of what was out there, thanks to Captain Mutig's post.

First of all, it's summer on the other side of the Gate. A surprising but altogether logical thing, wherever it is it must be far from here. That's why the summer uniforms for the Kleist Troop were pulled down. A strange order, but the Legion Hetman knew how to carry out this request without unnecessary formalities and inquiries. And what the heck would the Prussian Marines need summer uniforms for in the middle of a harsh winter?

Secondly, the Gate on the other side is on some hill, there are no posts around the gate itself, but below between the hills is one big camp. A second identical Gate was spotted on the other hill.

Thirdly and most importantly, the enemy seems to be heavily sluggish, not even very concerned about the Gate to which the Poles have access, instead they seemed to stare intently at the other one for whatever reason. Maybe they sent some second army there and that one hasn't returned yet? All in all, what they had broken up seemed more like an advance guard, and a small one at that. Rather, they were reconnaissance troops.

Moreover, poorly prepared, since they packed into the middle of winter almost naked! Idiocy.

Each team of Hunters sent to eliminate each of the remaining marauders while trying to avoid unnecessary destruction among the civilian population with varying degrees of success, reported that the enemy was completely unprepared for winter conditions, even seemed rather ad hoc formed unit just to see what was here.

So they relied on speed, wanting to strike as quickly as possible wanting to see what was really out there before a possible threat came out of the Gate trying to find the missing scouts or made a larger invasion cause problems in pursuing marauders on the troubled border.

Fortunately for the soldiers of the Brightest, speed is their middle name and main spirit. Be too fast to be caught, be too fast to be stopped and be fast enough to avoid unnecessary losses.

The fact that they are the Marines changes nothing and nothing.

That's why the Fourth Rota stood in front of its commander, Rotmistrz Helmar von Kleist, despite the prevailing cold. And the fact that they would be forced to carry a considerable amount of heavy support equipment on their backs? Well, the life of an infantryman in the army is not one of the best.

And certainly not in the army of the Brightest.(One of Poland's nicknames, Najjaśniejsza in Polish. -author's note)

The rotormaster only looked over his standing unit before saying in a loud military tone, "Rota! A difficult task awaits us, fortunately, bread is common for us. You know how things are. Therefore, without prolonging, go with God."

After which, individual captains began issuing orders to load aboard 4x4 Waran light armored vehicles and the same light wheeled armored personnel carriers Kozak-4.

"That's better right away." Mumbled Tenner as he loaded aboard the Kozak-4 with his section, through the side window he could see that the other section of his posse had not yet fully boarded their vehicle. "It's cold as fuck and these guys make us stand in the cold in our summer uniforms."

"Don't exaggerate Florian, we stood for a few minutes. So much as nothing. And on the other side you know how warm it is, like in the Crimea!" pointed out Geeler to him.

"Maybe for you Hans from Elbing, I am from the colder part of Prussia and have more sense about standing lightly dressed in the harsh winter."

In response, Geeler tapped on the plates of his bulletproof vest, "Lightly?"

Tenner rolled his eyes without saying a word. Then the sound of a radio up front and the driver's reply interrupted this conversation. Both soldiers looked forward along with the others from the unit.

The engine whined loudly after which the Kozak-4 moved forward toward the Gate. Tenner, sitting by the window, could see the other Cossack driving alongside. A quick glance back showed him a two-column formation of vehicles.

They narrowly missed having to walk through the Gate because removing trees and their roots while creating the road proved to be quite a challenge, and shuttling vehicles not much less.

Normally, it would take specialized equipment or a not inconsiderable number of people with shovels to dig up all the unnecessary tree trunks and roots for the creation of a wide enough road through the forest.

Fortunately, the locals came to the rescue.

Without the natives, it would have taken more time to do the job, time they didn't have much of. Here the natives, or more precisely a couple of trained woodcutters who had mastered a couple of necessary spells for their work came to the rescue.

The sappers quickly dug up the earth around the trunks after which magical woodcutters uprooted them using a levitation spell. In this way, a relatively straight path was created in two days for the vehicles, which were delivered by air to a designated temporary airfield near the village.

It was small, in fact, using both the dirt road going to the village and the surrounding agricultural wasteland that rested for the season. And the only machines capable of landing like this were the venerable ŚLZ.28 Bryza, passenger-transport aircraft capable of STOL, or short takeoff and landing.

These sleek little twin-engines have been the workhorse of the air transport forces in every constituent country of the Republic, and with their simple design and adaptability to harsh conditions, they require little more than simply a piece of hard ground as air fodder.

That is, a machine ideal for the conditions of Roderius, so much so that when the natives heard that Poland didn't mind selling their equipment they immediately ordered a staggering amount for their capabilities in the amount of... 15 machines in total.

What did you expect? That two medieval fantasy kingdoms are able to order more than a few pieces on hand just like that? Well, if it were a trading republic or just a trading kingdom then maybe they could order more, but further it would not be a staggering amount.

Simply put, in the past there was much less money in circulation as well as from taxes, making it much harder to afford anything more than the modern state, which can take such expenditures as public debt because it is something other than a medieval state.

Well, let's leave this matter, instead let's return to our beloved Prussians. Two columns of vehicles had long since entered the tunnel hidden behind the Gate in its entirety. The darkness that prevailed there necessitated the use of vehicle lights in order to get an idea of how wide the tunnel was and to avoid an accident in the event of a sudden stop in front.

Tenner, like many other soldiers on this trip, had trouble telling how long this trip took. For him it was quite a long time, his friend Geeler, by contrast, thought it was short. Even something like simply measuring the time was a hassle, as it turned out after the fact, all the clocks, even the electronic ones, had become unsettled. But they found that out when they established a post on the other side.

Why? Well there wasn't much time. As soon as the first Warans in the lead dropped out of the gate and right behind them the Cossacks all hell broke loose and the hitherto silent journey during which the only sound was the whine of the engines turned into a cacophony of shouts, whirring engines and the distinctive bass of machine guns.

It turned out that they ran straight into the watchtowers at the Gate, manned by a sparse crew. This surprised the drivers because until they left there was not much to see, night reigned on this side of the Gate.

Fortunately for the drivers themselves, the fortifications were hastily constructed, making them of lousy strength, and it was enough to clash with them to break through to the other side without a problem. On the other hand, the Warans were quite heavy for a multipurpose vehicle and decently armored. Wood didn't stand much of a chance against an 18-ton unleashed colossus. Even more so a body armored in flimsy sheet metal, the sound of crushing human flesh Tenner later described as very disturbing.

On the outskirts of the Gate, a veritable frenzy was unleashed. Vehicles drove here, there and the one of the Lymians who did not manage to scout out the hill on which the creatures from hell came to inflict punishment on the foolish mortals was either smashed or turned into a colander by the machine guns on the roofs of the vehicles.

As soon as all the vehicles were on this side of the hill and the enemies were killed or fled as far away from here as possible in a panic, which ultimately saved their lives, the Marines got out of their vehicles and began securing the area.

The rotorman actually arrived at the ready, as one of the last. He approached the edge of the hill, and just as he was about to consult his protégé who was keeping a close eye on the Lymian camp between the hills, a loud and distinctive roar of engines rang through the valley. The rotormaster immediately turned in the direction from whence he had come, and a look of astonishment appeared on his face. Where did the tanks come from here? He thought, and after a moment he noticed that there was a second ascent nearby, apparently of a similar height, for there was a glimpse of headlights with a distinctive whiteness.

Instinctively reacted to the unknown contact. "GOING DARK NOW!" he shouted loudly over the battle network as well as in his own voice. The order was carried out without delay, all lights disappeared within seconds as more drivers turned off their vehicles and soldiers extinguished their flashlights.

As soon as darkness fell, Kleist raised his binoculars to his eyes, pressed the button responsible for turning on night vision and thermal imaging in one. To his eyes, after a moment when the flashlight's software adjusted to the light displayed, a large group of troops appeared.

He counted three tank rotas, and two infantry rotas brought in trucks. Both tanks and trucks were unfamiliar to him. This was the first time he had seen such machines... he interrupted his train of thought for a moment when new but important information belatedly reached his analyzing inner commander.

"What the hell are the Nipponese doing here?" spoke up the officer from whom he was supposed to consult, namely Lieutenant Richard Holster, a short blond man known for his penchant for gambling as well as a spinster. Kleist to this day can neither explain to himself why Holster wasn't kicked out of the unit, nor the fact that he hasn't yet been able to get him upright and weed out his wicked behavior.

On the other hand, the army could not count on a huge number of applicants hence they took anyone who wanted. Provided, of course, that he had no criminal record or fuck-up. Criminals have a place in prison and lunatics in a psychiatric facility. The military is not a holding room for them.

"They've come for a bloody trial that's for sure, Lieutenant." Spoke up one of the soldiers who was staring through his scope at the second hill.

"Just what for? After all, the Nipponese have more important things than sending troops overseas, and even more so, they're counting on us or those strange Americans to do their black work for them." said another soldier.

Kleist clicked his tongue, he didn't like it, not one bit. The Nipponese have a problem with sending armies abroad because they have problems, then they send a large troop of troops here through the Gate. What are they playing at?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how a red light, characteristic of fire, suddenly appeared in the pit. It then moved toward the neighboring hill. Meanwhile, the sun began to rise over the mountains, and the red dawn revealed what darkness covered.

"Soldiers from the country of the rising sun have arrived at the rising sun for the battle." Holster sneered and the soldiers around him laughed.

Immediately after these words, a butchery played out before their eyes, called in the future the Battle of Alnus Hill, but the Prussians themselves called it something else.

Slaughterhouse in the Valley of the Rising Sun.

Kingdom of Louria

February 25, 1640

First Army Camp


Hark smiled mischievously. For the man in front of him, it was a ghastly sight. His face was bruised to the point of redness, blood was coming from his nose. In turn, what teeth remained could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Nevertheless, he could still see and was able to speak, which is exactly what he least wanted.

Unfortunately, the intelligence officers of the Kingdom of Louria know their trade all too well. A couple of spells and coercive potions and, of course, a solid facial bruise to streamline the process of extracting information was enough to make him sing anything.

Thanks to the translation spells for which in order to work on a person under duress one has to use force and break the mind of the victim, Hark learned that the man in question was a Centurion with a name similar to a typical Parpaldian, serving some unknown empire that came to conquer and so on. Typical talk for the bruised. Although interesting, until he regretted that he only now learned about them. Had they arrived earlier, he might even have been able to use this to his advantage.

Their strike from the Gate on the border would most likely have gone against both countries. They would have done damage which would have provoked a war but with the Najedies and not between them. Thus he could have used the opportunity to defuse diplomatic tensions, as well as internal ones because he could have sent a significant part of the army beyond the Gate, whether they succeeded is another matter no less he could have disposed of the ballast in a less risky way. Unfortunately, it was too late.

The other thing that interested him most besides the Gate, of course, was the fact that they clashed with the Poles and were easily smashed. A thing he rather expected especially since this Saderian was armed worse than a typical recruit from his army. And another more fitting fact for him, although some data processing will be needed but it could be very useful to him.

Namely that they were scouts and saboteurs in one, and that they burned down a few villages before they were wrecked. Only by a strange coincidence did this man manage to survive when the Poles sent the Hunters. Beautiful women, covered in a white cloak who knew neither mercy nor fatigue. It is worth knowing, it will be useful to him in the plan. He considered it a gift from some favorable Lourii God, or perhaps rather God favoring him in his plan.

"Take him away from me and execute him, and then distribute his head without a helmet throughout the Kingdom and proclaim that he is a Polish saboteur sent to raid our territory." The man opened his eyes wide, a side effect of the forcefully used translation spells was that he himself began to understand the Lourian language.

He began to beg for mercy, ready to do anything. Even tell him about Sadera and her riches, but Hark only shook his head. "You know centurion, if you had ended up here in slightly different times, maybe even a few months earlier. I would have taken you up on your offer, but I don't need it now. Goodbye." After which, with a wave of his hand, he ordered him to take it.

As soon as the people around him left, he muttered to himself. "I wonder what you are going to do now Madam Ambassador? After all, you can't let go that someone attacked a country under the protection of your empire right?"

Hark didn't love Parpaldia, and since they can't help him win and are now trying to wriggle out of the hay it might make it clear to them that a price is being paid for failing to keep their agreements with Louria. Even if Louria herself is gone after that.

Exaggerated pride is hubris. And as we all know, pride steps before a fall.
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
So,Poland have battle dolls? nice.
But - why still use normal troops? dolls are cheaper in long run.
I hope,that Heke be good older sister !

Formation of 4 against big units - Rhodesian special forces beat soviet trained black partisants many times without loses.
Rotomaster- why not rotmaster?

New Japan - they should quickly undarstandt,that it is another world.And,once Kingdom of Poland hear about our Poland,they would do anything they could to help us.

Louria - they knew,that they are going down,but try to take Parpaldia with them? good for all except Parlpadians.
 
He who sows the wind...

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
Continent Falmart

Special Region

August 15, 2006 (According to Japan's Calendar from Beyond the Gate).

The battle for the unknown hill on this side of the Gate continued in earnest. Successive waves of attacking opponents slammed into the fortified lines of the JGSDF to crash like a wave against the shore. Combined rifle fire and cannon fire of all kinds pounded the enemy troops below.

This one, in turn, despite the heavy losses sustained by enemy fire, marched on ahead in an attempt to retake the hill from enemy hands. To the defending Japanese it seemed that they might as well have fired into the sea, the effect looked similar.

They saw enemy cavalry charging at them, only to be mowed down by rifle fire which reminded them of a scene from Kurosawa's film "Kagemusha" where Takeda's cavalry in a clash with Tokugawa's musketeers ended similarly.

Huge Roman-style marching formations marched forward becoming, thanks to their tight formation, an easy target for tanks and artillery. Spectacular explosions occurred inside the quadrilaterals tearing the order to shreds and yet the soldiers, against the instinct telling them to break up, went on in tight ranks.

Or is it more like crowd psychology?

A thing that is not surprising, after all, for this reason, at the very beginning of the Great War, soldiers were able to march in columns or Napoleonic-like formations straight at enemy fortifications without regard for the fact that this is certain death.

Another thing is that contrary to popular opinion and thinking, it was attacking at the tactical level that generated fewer losses than trying to defend one's positions. When you went on the defensive, and that wasn't hard at all back then, you were screwed especially if you were an Entente soldier.

Why? Because your side has just converted to the moon the enemy positions you just occupied. And now you're supposed to defend yourself in this rubble against a German counterattack and this one also starts with artillery falling on the ruins of their former first line and on no man's land cutting you off from supplies and support and often your artillery doesn't have the range to reach the German artillery.

Because of which the offensive was losing its strength very quickly after the initial assault.

This was the reason why for every German killed in this bloody slaughter, there are a few Entente soldiers.

Fortunately for the Japanese, those days are gone, today it is possible to strike at enemy positions and maintain the necessary momentum to continue the assault. But the principle of artillery being the god of war is not gone, and what is even better has been strengthened by technological advances.

So if in the past to cover a large area with artillery fire required dozens of guns firing more or less in one place, today one battery can do it with precision like that of an experienced watchmaker.

This was the case today as well, coordinates, requests and orders went forward, then backward in a few moments at a pace unimaginable to the enemies marching on them. Then the artillery executed them, annihilating one enemy formation after another without any thought of what they were just doing.

They might as well have been on a wide-ranging exercise.

Nevertheless, this does not mean that ordinary soldiers armed with rifles have nothing to do and the threat is nonexistent. On the contrary, the enemy has surrounded the entire hill on which the Japanese are located and is trying to scramble up to the top with even the smallest hole. For obvious reasons, both artillery and tanks cannot take care of those being who have broken through the barrage fire zone by some miracle, this must be taken care of by ordinary infantry.

Targets, contrary to appearances, were not in short supply, the designated zone of barrage fire after the initial shelling decimated the troops near the hill moved further forward to destroy both the camp and cut off one of the two exits from the valley. The latter was far behind a chain of hills similar to the one they were on.

The roar of cannons, rifles and howling engines drowned out and dispersed throughout the valley. To those below, it seemed that their new enemies were using some kind of demonic creatures to move their vehicles and these so howled as befitted condemned beings forced to work against their will.

For the Prussians, who were located on a neighboring hill, called Betulus by the natives, this was to their advantage. Especially since this way the noise their rifles and vehicles generated disappeared in the general confusion of battle. This way they could both watch the Japanese in action and take notes on it while remaining unnoticed for some time.

Of course, unnoticed by the Japanese who were completely absorbed by the ongoing battle. The natives were a different matter. When the first reports reached the commander of the battle on the side of the natives, a certain General Godasen, he ordered a small detachment to move to retake the hill, after which he intended to place magicians and siege machines there to shell Alnus.

The plan was obviously simple but unworkable for a simple reason. The Prussians were not going to let themselves be kicked off the hill. They took advantage of the fact that initially the battle was going on right next door and neither side was paying attention to them. Thus, the naval infantry turned Betulus Hill into a fortress when pulling reinforcements from behind their Gate and the area around it into a death zone in passing, supporting the Japanese in the battle.

Designated sharpshooters armed with Arsenic rifles killed anyone who could be singled out as an officer or non-commissioned officer and given that we are talking about an army of the ancient era this was not too difficult.

Until the Lymian counterattack, only the sharpshooters had contributed in any way to the war effort, but when it came, all the equipment the Poles had managed to bring to the continent went into action.

Light and heavy mortars were the first to play in this orchestra opening the symphony, immediately followed by the heavy bass of machine guns placed on the roofs of vehicles and held by the operators of these toys in the infantry. The last member of the orchestra to join in were grenade launchers of all kinds.

The conductor of this orchestra was, of course, Rotmar Helmar von Kleist, who decided to play a piece called "This is my swamp hill" in the role of listeners were those unfortunates who decided to listen to this tune too closely.

What may surprise you is that the Japanese did not drip about the fact that someone on the neighboring just is and support them with fire until about one o'clock in the afternoon. That is, when much of the enemy army had fallen dead and what had not managed to escape along with the commander was about to die.

It was only when the fervor of the battle subsided a bit that someone pointed out that there were unknown forces on a neighboring hill. For many soldiers this was a surprise, but for Commander-in-Chief Koichiro Hazama it was a bucket of cold water poured on his head out of the blue and in the winter!

The conclusion was one, some country also has a Gate leading to the Special Region, and he decided to brag about it only when the Japanese set off through theirs. From there, Hazama began asking himself questions he intended to get answers to after the battle.

Officially, the First Battle of the Alnus and Betulus Hills as it was later called ended evenly at 5:30 p.m., although in reality individual skirmishes with the remnants of stubborn native troops continued until the following morning.

By itself, the battle would most likely have become a mere footnote in history books being overshadowed by the much more famous Second Battle which for many would have been the right one and thus confused with the first by ordinary people. Most likely in another world this is what happened, but not here.

Here something else happened that made sure no one ever confused the two battles.

"Should I just go there like that? And alone?" asked Lieutenant Itami Yoiji of his superior Major Higaki, the latter rolled his eyes at this question, foolish in his opinion.

"No, you are not going alone. And although I don't believe what I'm saying, we were planning to put out reconnaissance troops, normally you would find out about the assignment later but because of the situation, you are being appointed commander of the third reconnaissance squad and your first task is to contact those on the neighboring hill."

Itami scratched his head, in an unexpected way, his responsibility only increased again.

"Hmm... if you say so..."

Two hours later

"The sky is quite blue despite the later hour, all in all this is to be expected from another world." muttered Itami under his breath to himself while staring at his watch. Behind him, his new subordinates were climbing, having just passed through the battlements located at the bottom between the hills.

The view already from the top was nightmarish, where not to look there were torn apart corpses of all races and sizes and the smells they had to smell for some time before they started climbing again stayed with them for the rest of their lives.

"You can see the same thing in Hokkaido," replied Sergeant Takeo Kurata, who previously served in a garrison on that island. "As far as I'm concerned, I thought we'd find something like talking and walking trees, flying giant dragons and all around fairies. Not other people with modern equipment."

"Who do you think it could be? Americans? Russians?" puzzled Ensign Tetsuya Nishina, for him the news about other people and the second Gate was intriguing.

"I doubt it was any of them, after all, we would have heard of a similar incident to the one in Ginza." said junior ensign Shino Kuribayashi confidently.

"What if it was where the whole thing can easily be swept under the rug?" replied Nishina.

Itami preempted Shino's answer, "We'll wait and see." He said in a relaxed tone. Internally Shino was annoyed by this nonchalance of her superior but decided to hold her tongue.

Thus there was an awkward silence that lasted for a long moment until they were stopped by unknown soldiers as soon as they reached their defensive lines. At first Itami before they got closer pulled out a white hustler and hung it on the barrel of his rifle but to the surprise of the Japanese one of the soldiers who apparently stood waiting for them said in Japanese with a heavy foreign accent to hide it because he was among his own.

"What do you mean among your own? Who are you guys?" quipped Itami and his subordinates behind him began whispering among themselves.

Here the foreign soldier made a face no less puzzled than Itami's. "What do you mean who? Your new buddies in this strange world."

"Man..." began Itami searching for words.

"Yes?" asked the foreign soldier

"I see you guys for the first time with my eyes." replied Itami only to have the unknown soldier laugh, at which his comrades asked him in a foreign language, the man explained what made him laugh or at least that's what Itami assumed. Of course, Itami didn't know him but he picked out one word that lit a red light in his head.

Not once did they use a variation of the word Japan, everyone said Nippon. Itami may not have been the best at languages, although he could speak English, a little of the native one that is Saderia, but he knew that in the West no one speaks Nippon for Japan. Whereas how did he know they could come from the West?

He did not know, he just shot on the basis of a simple guess because all the soldiers he saw were white, very white. That they were Americans he ruled out right away, the equipment they were equipped with was... how to say, seemingly familiar but still not from those times.

He certainly didn't recognize the vehicles standing in the distance. It was the first time he had seen such machines, and he had to get to know them a little as part of his training.

As for their uniforms and equipment. What caught the eye first was their helmets. It wasn't a simple Kevlar pot in the style of German WWII helmets, the forehead was much higher than in his and on it was a large hole which he noticed was used not only to attach night vision but also a motorcycle helmet-style face veil, some of the soldiers had something like that. What's more, he noticed that the ears were shielded by headphones and not a helmet. And the helmet itself had sort of plates attached to it.

The second conspicuous thing is, of course, the bulletproof vest, unlike his it was missing a lot of elements, it was smaller it only covered the chest without the abdomen, the collar was missing and the epaulettes could be seen the straps on which the soldiers wore the whole thing. On the upper part were three rows of Velcro on which Itami could probably read the name, rank and something else. Below that, meanwhile, were three large magazine pouches.

The last thing worth mentioning from the foreign outfit were the flags on the shoulders in red-white-red arranged horizontally and below that something that may be a symbol of the individual, namely a black eagle with a crown on its neck, on the eagle was an anchor and in it was inscribed the white number one. What impressed him about this symbol was that the eagle had a human armored hand going from the neck which held a typical Western sword above the eagle's head.

When the foreign soldier finished explaining and his colleagues burst out laughing he turned to Itami again, "Well I'm not surprised you're seeing us for the first time with your eyes, after all you wrapped up before we arrived in greater numbers. At most you have seen our sailors in your ports."

Even more confusion arose in Itami's head, what is this man talking about? What did he mean by wrapped up before we arrived in greater numbers? And which sailors does he mean?

"Excuse me esteemed Mr..." interrupted the soldier's statement with a raised hand. The officer murmured for a moment before replying "Captain."

Itami thanked with a nod, "Exactly, I'm sorry Dear Captain, but I don't think I understand something here."

A short, quiet but audible "And that's not the only thing he doesn't understand." came from behind him. Itami ignored the taunt. So did the officer in front of him.

"Well what don't you understand?" asked the alien captain wrinkling his eyebrows, noting that there was some misunderstanding going on.

Itami scratched the back of his head "Why don't we start from the beginning again?" he asked in a light tone. The captain nodded. "My name is Lieutenant Itami Yoiji, this is my platoon's Third Reconnaissance Squad from the 5th Combat Unit of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces sent to the Special Region after the Ginza incident, and you?"

The foreign officer nodded and upon hearing about the Ginza Incident, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. He refrained from questions no less. "I am Captain Sigimunt Mutig, this is my post called Second of the Second Rota, the third Detachment from the 1st Marine Regiment forming part of the 1st Marine Division of the Principality of Prussia sent as part of the Commowealth of QUE-TOYNE Military Contingent sent on a support mission as a replacement for the troops of the Japanese Strategic Defense Force after the so-called Transfer or Summoning."

The amount of information given to him offhand surprised Itami that he hung back for a moment. And not even just him. He only unlocked himself when Kurata broke the silence among the Japanese with words.

"What the hell? What's that supposed to mean?"

Itami replied in his style and to the surprise of the Japanese with a smile, "That means we just got an unexpected Crossover!"

One half of his subordinates, led by Shino, merely put a hand to their foreheads in a gesture of total disbelief. The other half, on the other hand, recognized that their commander had an uneven ceiling.

Mutig, on the other hand, only raised his eyebrows after which he asked, "What does crossover mean?"

Itami quipped "Well you know it's an English term..."

"I don't speak English." replied Mutig without hesitation surprising the Japanese.

"Well, what do you mean you don't know? Oh well, you're German..." spoke up Kurata, and to the Japanese's further surprise Mutig became indignant at this statement.

"Excuse me, I am a Pole not a German."

"Who?" asked Kurata again, thinking he had misheard himself for Mutig, rushing to clarify, did not say Porando as it is said in the Japanese we know for a Pole but closer to the Polish pronunciation Porako as it is said in the Japanese of his world.

This is due to a simple reason, the Japanese did not learn this name through another language, only by direct contact with the Poles, and it must be said that this contact was not few. Which, of course, caused that in Japanese Mutig were terms absent in "our" Japanese, and which were in this case either a different term in relation to us or were a borrowing existing in that Japan not present in this one.

Hence Mutig's full answer of who he was was only partially understood by the Japanese. Such words as "Poczet", "Rota" or the name of Poland "Rzeczypospolita" in his familiar Japanese were borrowings from Polish in the case of Rota it was even a borrowing used in the Japanese army but for obvious reasons did not occur in "our" Japanese.

The Rzeczpospolita in particular was a foreign word to them, there in Japan Mutig was a borrowing used mainly in the context of Poland although sometimes it was used as a synonym for the system of Poland i.e. republic but not necessarily democracy. No less there is a Japanese equivalent of this word. (And you should know that on Earth, where Mutig comes from, there is not such a strong confusion as in us that Republic = Democracy.)

In the case of our Japan, on the other hand, such a word not only does not exist and even does not exist in the Japanese consciousness of such a thing. Poland, on the other hand, is called, as in other languages, a republic, which is a translation of the word "Republic" although not entirely correct.

"Po-ra-ko." Replied Mutig again but slowly with the same wrong word without realizing his mistake.

"Po-ra-ko" repeated Kurata after him then scratched his neck in confusion, he had no clue who this German... sorry Prussian is for the hell of it. He looked back at his colleagues to see if they had any idea. Their perplexed faces were the only answer he got.

It was not until Itami's deputy, Senior Warrant Officer Soichiro Kuwahara who instead asked Mutig, "And what other language besides German and Japanese do you speak, Captain?" that the conversation was snapped out of an impasse.

"Well, what do you mean?" began Mutig before he could reflexively remind himself that this is not his world, "I know, in addition to German, the languages considered inter-national in my world a.k.a. my timeline, namely Polish, Latin, French and Spanish."

To the latter Kuwahara immediately responded, "Do you know Spanish? As it happens, so do I."

Shino quipped, and she wasn't the only one, "And how do you know Spanish?"

"I have family in Mexico, they use Spanish more than Japanese and sometimes we met so I learned through which I started to act as a translator in family gatherings." explained the elderly man.

"Good," said a satisfied Itami "Then can you repeat in Spanish who you are?" turned Itami to Mugita.

Mutig happily replied in Spanish, "Soy polaco, no alemán." (I am Polish, not German)

Kuwahara marveled, "¿Qué quiere decir con polaco? Después de todo, eres un prusiano. Y los prusianos son alemanes." (What do you mean, a Pole? After all, you are a Prussian! And the Prussians are Germans!)

Mutig sighed "Como se dice en nuestro país, Gente Ruthenus, natione Polonus que significa por origen Rus, natione Polaco. Por supuesto, en mi caso y el de mis colegas sería gente Prusacum. Pero para explicarlo en pocas palabras, en mi mundo Prusia nunca se rindió a la línea de Brandemburgo de los Hollenzorns por lo que nunca se incorporó contra la voluntad del pueblo prusiano al Reich y en cambio permaneció con su verdadera patria, la de la República. " (As they say in our country, Gente Ruthenus, natione Polonus which means by origin Ruthenian, nationality Polish. Of course, in my and my colleagues' case it would be gente Prusacum. But to explain in a nutshell, in my world Prussia was never given over to the Brandenburg line of Hollenzorns by which it was never incorporated against the will of the Prussian people into the Reich and instead remained with its true homeland, the Republic."

Kuwahara slowly nodded his head then added, "Por República, ¿se refiere a Polonia? " (By Republic, do you mean Poland?")

"" replied Mutig, the older man thanked him and then explained to his companions what Mutig wanted to tell them. To say that this shocked them is an understatement; they were completely stupefied at the thought that someone from Prussia could consider himself not German but Polish. A discussion ensued, which lasted a few minutes, during which Kuwahara, to his own misfortune, served as an interpreter for every statement, because from the Poles' side other people joined the conversation, explaining various things.

Eventually Kurata asked out of curiosity, "And just so you know, Captain Mutig may I know why you and your colleagues don't speak English? I don't see any reason not to know a language used in many parts of the world."

Mutig raised an eyebrow and instead responded by asking, "And why don't you speak Spanish?"

Kurata thought for a moment before replying "All in all, after the collapse of the Spanish Empire there is no reason for it, and no former colony of theirs has become significant enough to have to learn it, after all America is the most powerful country in the world..." He paused and looked at Mutig with dismay "Wait a minute does that mean...?"

"That England has fallen and because of us and its most powerful colony i.e. America has been kept under siege by us for over 100 years? And we, meaning Poland, are the most powerful country in the world? Yes, that's right." replied Mutig with a cheeky arrogant smile.

Kurata merely murmured at this, amusing everyone with his remark, "And to think that when crossing the Gate I was looking for mythical creatures. I think I just found one."

Roderius Continent

Principality of Que-Toyne

February 25 Anno Domini 2021/1640 C.C.Y.

Border City Gim

Command Staff of the 1st Marine Division.


Information about what was discovered behind the Gate quickly reached the ears of Legion Hetman Volker Wiekier, the latter took the unusual discovery with the utmost seriousness and calm. More Japanese? It was strange, no less acceptable, but that was less of a problem for now.

Oh, much smaller and the fact that there were some friendly forces on the other side of the Gate capable of securing that side was eminently to his liking. Warsaw should also be satisfied with this.

Unfortunately, despite his own desire to venture out and see for himself what was there on the other side and, as a representative of the Commowealth, meet with his counterpart from that Nippon. This had to remain in Gim, the case at the border was getting worse and worse.

Very soon news arrived on this side from Louria in which they accused Poland in harsh terms of sabotage activities on the border and of attacking innocent Lourian villages. Viekier immediately guessed that it was about the Lymians or, as they are really called, the Saderians because this was the information he got from the forces sent beyond the Gate which learned about it from the Nipponese.

This was to be expected, after all the area to be covered by the Hunters was huge and the forces were small and limited so as not to draw the necessary attention. Fortunately, except for a few incidents, including a nasty one involving Group 404 of the SS which reported a burned village, mostly murdered residents and a few refugees they took with them after pacifying the refugees.

Out of a village of more than fifty people, barely eight women, six girls and one little boy survived, who was taken in by Group 404 because the rest of the refugees became wrecks of people in need of medical and psychological care. Leaving a young orphan girl in such company doesn't sound like the smartest idea in the world.

Not that leaving a young child in the care of four robots also known as dolls and which are designed for deep infiltration behind enemy lines is some super brilliant idea. Unfortunately, the boy had become so attached to his new babysitters/daughters over those few days that tearing him away from them would not have been the best idea for the child's health. And his health, too, he didn't feel like having another brawl with the head nurse Ewelina Bąk, who scolded him for suggesting to change his caregivers because they were machines. And by rebuked it should be understood that she threatened him with using her medical skills to deeply and unpleasantly examine Hetman's health.

Hence, he was forced to stick it to this unusual experiment to have the young man's care entirely taken care of by the dolls. He had to admit that it was surprising how the four stepped into the role of mother and aunts.

He especially didn't expect that Heka who is known for her cool and withdrawn personality around a young boy would turn into the most warm and active person around. All in all, she played the role of mother well.

But enough about that, more important is something else. The reduced movement of troops on the Lourian side. This could mean one thing, preparations for the offensive were in full swing.

That is, war will break out, and for an unforeseen reason. Fortunately, he had a rejoinder prepared for this situation in the form of reports and reports which showed in black and white that he had done everything in his power. And, of course, there was Field Hetman Stanislaw Szepczynski who commanded the Roderius Division and who was his direct superior.

It is important to know that in the army of the Commowealth there were two types of divisions, the ordinary division, also known as the Legion, which had their own numbers, and the Grand Division which is the equivalent of the Corps without numbers instead having a distinctive name.

It's easy to get confused at first but not hard to remember for two reasons, firstly numbered divisions were mainly used by Prussians and Balts, the rest of the army used the Legion instead but it was not a permanent rule rather the main one, secondly it's easy to see that the 1st Division is not the same as Roderius Division.

And the Roderius Division is made up of two divisions and four legions respectively, supported by specialized brigades of eight. Accordingly, these are:

1st Marine Division (Prussia)

4 Prussia Guards Grenadier Division (Prussia)

1 Warsaw Mechanized Legion (Crown*)

28 Royal Ascaris Legion (Crown/Cameroon)

7 Janissary Mechanized Legion (Korona)

3 Hussar Armored Legion (Crown)

87 Kazan Engineer Brigade (Astrakhan)

67 Crimean Railway Brigade (Crimea)

23 Moscow Engineer Brigade (Moscow**)

24 Moscow Engineer Brigade (Moscow)

13 Lithuanian Railway Brigade (Lithuania)

10 Opole Logistics Brigade (Crown)

27 Sich Logistic Brigade (Ruthenia***/Crimea)

2nd Independent Brigade of Air Cossacks (Ruthenia).

In addition, there was a dedicated Special Service regiment scattered across the border, as well as dedicated two Tactical Air Squadrons and the 1st Strike Flotilla from the 1st Baltic Fleet and the 13th Coast Defense Flotilla from the 4th Atlantic Fleet.

Two Prussian Divisions and one Crown Legion secured the territory of the Principality of Que-Toyne of which the Marines secured the southern section i.e. on the Don-Gim-Tyn arc up to the border with Quiila and the Grenadiers guarded the northern section from the town of Don up to the seaport on the coast.

The Mechanized Legion, meanwhile, was stationed as a perimeter west of the Principality's capital with the same name as the state itself.

The spacing of the units was due to logistical problems of the 1st Warsaw Division was heavier than the two divisions combined hence it was closer to the capital of the Principality and thus had a shorter distance to the port city of Maihark. Moreover, near the capital city there was an airfield occupied by the Crown Army for wartime use, the construction of which was started by the Japanese for their needs.

The Marines, on the other hand, were in the southern section due to the fact that the area of operations was crisscrossed by marshes, rivers and lakes making movement difficult for any formations lacking adequate ability to cross water obstacles. For the Prussians this was no obstacle, their Heimat was just a similar land hence they felt at home.

The Guards Grenadiers, on the other hand, encamped in more open and less challenging terrain. Although much farther from the border than the Marines who were de facto on the most likely site of the main offensive. For the old trail stretching from the former duchy of Toltek and going to the distant Maihark ran right through here.

Despite the Lourian conquests and the general political change, the route remained and is to this day one of the most traveled in all of Roderius. The reason was that the network of rivers connected by canals was navigable and it was possible to get from the center of the continent to the shore just near Maihark in two weeks by water, even though this was only the last port.

Many Prussians watched with curiosity the rafters who floated goods down the river from the granary of Roderius, or the Duchy of Toltek, which is the second center of agriculture on the continent after the Duchy of Que-Toyne itself. For many, it was a unique opportunity to see first-hand how their ancestors or other rafters used to float grain and other products down the Vistula to the pearl of Polish ports, Gdansk. Of course, the Vistula itself is to this day the most important trade route in the Crown, but aside from small family businesses maintaining family traditions or simply for tourists, there were no real rafters on the Vistula.

And it should be known that, unlike in our world, the Vistula remained an important commercial river, never declining due to the turmoil of history, so that in the 19th century it caught up with the Rhine in terms of the volume of transport or the total tonnage of ships sailing on it to surpass it due to the First World War.

Of course, the fact that the Toltecs preferred to take the river and go to distant ports in the Principality of Que-Toyne rather than ride on horseback with carts along the road network to the ports of Louria annoyed the Kings of Jin-Hark, despite their attempts to make life miserable and change this in their favor little changed. Simply put, in spite of customs duties and taxes on the Lourian side that were supposed to hinder the practice, the volume of transportation via the Neskin-Mane-Malwa-Camisa rivers was too profitable than by land.

All in all, it is hardly surprising, except for the customs duty on the border there were no major levies because the Assembly of the Principality of 1354 forbade this by resolution to all nobles and towns, recognizing that only the prince could impose them. To the benefit of the princely treasury, of course.

This is different from Louria, where the number of privileges as well as local laws allowing de facto anyone who even minimally on his land established a road suitable for travel appropriate toll.

As for Quilly, it was secured by heavier mechanized units and one armored unit. With only one 7th Legion stationed in Quilla securing the entire border with Louria without a problem, this one was much shorter and still more than half was occupied by the impassable to the army Great Green Forest going all the way to the Mallow Gate.

The 28th Ascaris Legion and the 3rd Hussar Armored Legion, meanwhile, were stationed over the border along National Road 240 leading from New Plock, also called Abakwa, to a village called Ejumodzok by Cameroonians and Emuje by Poles. This was the only road leading directly to Louria from Cameroon. In turn, there were as many as two roads leading to Quilla.

Most of the Polish-Louisian and Polish-Quilisian borders were occupied by dense forests with occasional valleys along rivers that flowed into the Lazurva River. The river itself was another barrier but not problematic for the Crown Forces, these being able to erect the necessary bridge for crossing troops in a few hours.

While work has been underway for more than a year to build a full-fledged bridge on the border with Quilla, any such idea has been impossible to implement due to tensions with Louria.

As for the Brigades, in addition to the Logistics Brigade and the 2nd Independent Brigade, they were working full time in support of the Japanese efforts to build the infrastructure necessary for transportation, as if by magic, more kilometers of asphalt roads and railroads with occasional airfields appeared week by week. In addition, additional manpower arrived in the form of construction companies from the Crown Colony of Cameroon who, at the behest of the Crown, supported the overall effort through which the Japanese were able to reduce the pace of work to a much more rational level thus lowering the exhaustion of their workers.

For the natives, on the other hand, it was the business of a lifetime, an infrastructure will be put in place that will not only connect the two countries to each other as well as internally to an unprecedented degree, as well as provide a significant advance in civilization. At the same time the governments of both countries, will not spend a penny on it! And the Kingdom of Poland has made an agreement with the Que-Toyne and Quilla governments that it will cover the cost of maintaining the infrastructure for the next ten years out of its own pocket.

Of course, the Poles did not do this out of the goodness of their hearts, they wanted to secure all the necessary infrastructure in case of warfare as well as dependence of the indigenous countries.

No less for Hetman Wiekier this was not a problem, what mattered was the interest of the Homeland and the Homeland prefers its neighbors to be dependent on its existence in this way Poland could avoid unnecessary assaults on itself. Which was, of course, the aftermath of Polish history which knows plenty of invasions of Polish territory. Only the final pacification and dependence of Europe on the functioning of Poland after the First and Second World Wars guaranteed its inviolability and sanctity.

A good example of this is the German Confederation, an economic union of German states without much political ambition and controlled by Poland through Prussia. Which, although reluctantly, is used as a Polish excuse to control the German states thus creating not even so much as a buffer as a sill.

The goal, of course, is that in the event of a threat from Western countries or God forbid America, it is Germany and not the Crown that becomes the arena of armed struggle. On the peace footing, on the other hand, they constitute the Polish market for trade and commerce, binding these countries to Poland for better or for worse while making sure that none of them unite Germany and try to challenge Poland.

Hence, Poland's policy toward Japan and the indigenous countries is no different in purpose or principle from that toward Germany and other neighbors. In the event of a threat, they were to serve Poland as release thresholds for a hostile invasion.

Of course, this is all assuming that Poland will be forced to use them in such a capacity. A thing rather unpopular in the Commowealth.

So is the impending, and not possible in the opinion of Hetman referring to popular news and articles from the circle of people of Jack Bartosiak a well-known and controversial geopolitician, war with Louria. Today's news confirmed this.

Hetman Viekier clicked his tongue in displeasure, then focused on the map and wondered how on earth he was supposed to stop an army of more than 500,000 with his Marine Infantry and an entire regiment of Yegers separated from the 1st Warsaw Regiment.

Of course, the terrain favored him and not the enemy, after all, when it's warm only his troops can simply cross the water obstacle in vehicles. But in winter, the whole region freezes over enough that even a damn tank can stand on the ice without obstruction. It gave him a bad feeling, and his hunches have it that they come true all too often.

He looked at the latest reconnaissance reports from drones sent over Lourian territory. He wrinkled his forehead as he saw the work done and the deployment of troops. He quickly looked in a drawer in his desk and pulled from its depths a large black notebook with a lot of fiches attached to the pages of the notebook.

He quickly flipped through the fiches to find the information he was looking for. He then began to study the notes and pictures. The title, in turn, was War Preparations for the Grunwald Campaign of 1410.

A review of the information gathered for this expedition confirmed his hunch.

"Well, it's off to a beautiful start." muttered only the general, then decided to contact Hetman Szepczynski.

March 1, 1640

Kingdom of Louria

Jin-Hark

Royal Castle


"... Accordingly, I request that this be considered a Polish act of aggression and that the Empire of Parpaldia fulfill its obligations under our Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation and Mutual Assistance signed on March 1, 1630 according to the Central Calendar." concluded his long argument King Lourii Hark.

Listening to this was an Imperial ambassador named Daemones Centius, an older man from a respectable diplomatic family, sent to replace the previous ambassador in the face of a change in the status quo to the disadvantage of the Empire.

Until now, the diplomatic post in Louria was widely regarded as insignificant, extremely easy and not very prestigious. This was the case for a long time until now. The sudden appearance of Japan and then this Commowealth has upset the current balance both in the Third Zone of Civilization and in Roderius.

This, in turn, thwarted the Empire's previous plans, so the old ambassador, sent after acquaintances, was quickly replaced with someone with the right competence. The goal set for Centius was to effectively wring Parpaldia's hay out of the whole brawl before it escalated into an inevitable conflict.

Despite appearances, this was not difficult, it was enough for the Lourians themselves to invade with the tacit support of Parpaldia in accordance with the agreement they made years ago. In order to do so, it was simply necessary to push so hard that the Lourians themselves would move in a suicidal assault on their neighbors, then Parpaldia is clear, it only needs to send supplies and equipment and instructors, which it did and is doing.

This is what he has been doing over the past months, tempting and teasing the right people to support the suicidal maneuver. Unofficially, of course.

Everything was going according to plan until the unfortunate incidents of a few days ago. Louria caught some Polish saboteurs who were about to burn a couple of villages on the Lourian side of the border. Everyone had grown accustomed to the regular crossing of the air border by Poles.

Looking at the Polish modus operandi so far, as well as the reports and information received through secret channels from the capital, Centius strongly doubted that this diversionary head in front of him and locked in a stasis container belonged to a Polish soldier. The very fact that they were showing him mostly corpses, and without clothes that could be clearly attributed to Poles, cast a strong shadow over this "diversion."

"I understand your arguments, Your Majesty." began Centius, "but on what grounds should I conclude that this is not your mystification?"

"Are you suggesting that I'm lying?" asked Hark casting an offended look.

"No... Wherefore." denied Centius, "the point is that so far you have provided only dead evidence and your words which are only interpretations. I cannot make an important decision binding on the Empire based on such data alone. I must have irrefutable proof that this is not someone's mole."

"Do you need hard evidence?" asked Hark rhetorically, "Okay, get hard evidence. Guards! Bring in the prisoner!"

A man was led into the room, missing a piece of his right ear, and was held by strong knots by two good guards of the royal guard. Behind them walked a squad of crossbowmen with loaded weapons. He was tearing it to the left then to the right and blubbering something.

"Can't he speak?" asked Centius looking suspiciously.

"Unfortunately no, he bit his tongue off during interrogations in the camp." Centius croaked "The guards realized this after the fact. Hence we had to use less finesse measures." Centius nodded; mind magic had a tendency to spoil mental health.

"Can I check it with a trusted person?" he asked seemingly for show but in reality rhetorically. Hark nodded in agreement. Centius ordered his bodyguard to check the prisoner.

This one quickly approached the prisoner, then uttered a spell to penetrate the mind and then performed another one thanks to which Centius could secretly see what the contents of the brain looked like. Any barriers the brain normally had disappeared as a result of the interrogation. From there, Centius found the information he needed without hindrance.

The prisoner was an officer of the advance guard, sent on a mission of reconnaissance and diversion in enemy territory. He crossed a large forest on the border and Centius could see him and his bodyguard attacking villages, burning and murdering and raping. He is seen escaping after which he gets into the hands of the Lourians.

The vision disappeared after which he turned to the King. "Interesting, but why do he and his men use swords?" he asked generalizing.

"According to my officers, it was an attempt to make it look like bandits and ex-soldiers from the army. This makes sense because some, out of impatience, deserted and began to sow confusion. They believed that the Poles were trying to turn up the confusion so that Louria would fall into anarchy."

Centius nodded, sounding sensible. Destabilizing Louria would most likely be in Poland's favor. Then they could enter the area as stabilizers rather than invaders. This sounded perfect for the style in which the Poles operate in his opinion.

In this way, such an empire could, with the peace of mind of its inhabitants, expand its sphere of influence. This, in turn, Parpaldia could not agree to. Just as he was about to express his opinion, a breathless chaser suddenly rushed into the room.

"Excuse me my king, but I have very important news from Ladonia requiring your attention." He exhaled while answering an unasked question.

Hark looked at the ambassador, Centius understood what he meant. "I will not interfere with internal affairs. No less, your royal highness can be assured that the relevant opinion will be delivered to the ears of his Imperial Majesty."

"I understand." Replied Hark, after which the ambassador bowed and left with his bodyguard. As soon as they were in the corridor, he muttered to him. "Eavesdropping ready?"

"As requested." replied the bodyguard just as quietly.

"Let me listen." The bodyguard complied with the request and Centius was able to hear a report about how groups of bandits and ex-soldiers were running rampant in Ladonia. Hark's anger seemed natural to him. So did the recommendations.

The King's last sentence, no less, caught his attention. "We cannot wait any longer, we must move to stop this threat. If Parpaldia is so devoid of honor then the world will know about it!"

Normally he would want to laugh at this assumption, the problem is that everyone in the Third Zone is now looking at Roderius. News is spreading fast, existing vassals and allies are beginning to wonder if Parpaldia will keep its agreements now that new players have emerged who can do whatever they want in its backyard. The Grand Coalition is reinvigorating again and MPs from those countries have set out to find new powers ready to turn the tables.

The empire had to react quickly and make the least bad decision. Otherwise, someone would make the worst one for her. The gods, on the other hand, are witnesses that many would like to do so.

In turn, whether these saboteurs were Poles or rather Saderians will make little difference to them.

*Poland Proper, for reasons of the processes that prevailed in the First Commowealth, the name Poland passed along with the name of the nation.

** More precisely, the Grand Duchy of Moscow, we call them Russia.

*** Here the name Ruthenia was never replaced by Ukraine.
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
Ukraine mean borderland,we had moscov ukraine/bordenland with Moscov/ and tatar ukraine/borderland with tatars/
Some ruthenians about 1895 invented it as name for his new nation.
 
is it gathering storm?

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
Roderius Continent

Kingdom of Louria

March 4, 1640 Year of the Central Calendar.

Northern Army Camp


Tension could be sensed growing in the tent, King Hark was finishing dressing in his armor with the help of his squire. In a moment he was about to leave his secretive and warm hiding place to begin speaking in front of his soldiers, knights and his no longer hiding allies from Parpaldia.

"Ready your highness," said the squire who had just fastened the last piece of armor. An important part of his plan, the real plan of which only a few knew about were a few trusted bodyguards, his two favorite mistresses about whose fidelity he was sure, and his first minister Maus who was to negotiate peace with Poland after his "death".

He nodded wordlessly to Hark, then stepped out of the tent and, unusually for this time of year, the winter sun reflected on his cuirass. He squinted in pain, the sunlight also reflected unpleasantly on the snow around him.

He blinked a few times as he walked toward the stage prepared for the occasion from where his soldiers, with the help of magic, could hear and see him.

"The soldiers are waiting for your majesty." Pandour, commander of the Northern Army, said. His appearance had always to Hark resembled a battered fat dog with an idiotic mustache. Hark only nodded at this news. He then walked over to the previously prepared stand, climbed a couple of stairs and, after grunting to avoid sounding ochre, began a speech. A speech that was to go down in history as one of the best and greatest speeches ever made in Arcadia and on Earth. A speech that even historians hostile to Harka were proud of.

It began with the words "Great Warriors of Louria!...

No less can the whole thing be summarized by a famous quote from the great Roman leader and last dictator of Rome.

The dice have been thrown.

Principality of Que-Toyne

March 11, 1640 of the Year of the Central Calendar/ Anno Domini 2022.

The village of Pilar, about 23 km northeast of Gim.


The roar of the cannons once again sounded its loud bang, any snow that lay on the village rooftops had long since fallen under the unending shelling. Day after day, the 11th Mazurian Artillery Regiment, belonging to the 1st Division, shelled the Gim Lourians who were in the foreground.

Although the villagers complained about the constant noise, they thanked the Gods after all that their only inconvenience was the incessant thunder of the Krab self-propelled cannon howitzers. They did not have to, like those poor people from the near borderland, throw everything they have and, taking only the most necessary things, leave their homes to avoid the Lourian troops murdering, burning and plundering everything along the way.

Especially since this year's winter is surprisingly prolonged, with no signs of spring. While this was good news for the Poles stationed in their country, as there is no stubborn mud due to everything being frozen, it was terrible news for the Que-Toynians. After all, they all made their living from farm work, every day of winter means one less day in the growing season.

Of course, the famine will not threaten them, which no noble lord of Que-Toyne could afford, in which they were close to the Polish nobility who, in times of famine, did not force peasants to either sell their crops or forcibly give it to their lords. It was, however, the effects of the prolonged winter period that would hit everyone.

War beyond the border, rather should not.

"Artillery is the Lord, King and God of war in one." liked to say Pułkownik (Colonel) Jan Weiss, commander of the 11th Regiment. "We will chop so long in Lourian that not even a stone will be left on a stone." He explained to the assigned liaison officer from the Que-Toyne Army, Major Donus.

"From so far away Pułkownik?" asked Donus in disbelief, although he did not hide he was impressed by those overlapping boxes with a really long barrel sticking out of the top box which was called a tower by those Poles... Prussians... one dog, those foreigners.

As for firepower, in this he trusted the Pułkownik's word. After all, they wouldn't build such a complicated and most likely expensive contraption for a picnic, it must apparently accomplish such things, especially since the Pułkownik saying that no stone will be left unturned was speaking as if stating the fact that the sky is blue, the water is wet and the Lourians are a pile of shit to be buried in the ground, preferably in pieces.

"Major, such a distance is so much as nothing for our Krabs, in fact they can shoot twice as far from the fire zone as we are but this would require the use of less economical missiles without going into technical details."

Major Donus nodded, "True, true wars are expensive, especially with toys like these Krabs of yours." He paused when the Krabs once again began firing a salvo of shells, from what he counted three per minute, which, with a stockpile of forty rounds, makes for about fourteen minutes of uninterrupted firing, before the cannon went quiet for a while to load back up. According to what he learned, the number of shots is only half of the total capacity.

He watched in awe as the artillery batteries one by one within their platoons (the artillery does not use retinue like the Cavalry and Infantry) opened fire to continuously pelt the Lourians with crushing fire for the next hour and twenty-four minutes, or so he counted it in his head. And this was one of the two squadrons of Krab self-propelled cannon howitzers that fired on the Lourians before Gim!

"And those trucks are what?" Donus pointed out the vehicles standing idle and the crews around them who were mostly engaged in what soldiers do when they have nothing to do, that is, play cards, tell unquoteable jokes and other such things.

The Pułkownik smiled mischievously "This, esteemed Major, is our surprise for the enemy, the WR-40 Langusta."

Donus looked at him questioningly

"Do you know rockets?" Donus nodded

"And have you seen the rocket launcher?"

Donus marveled "Wait a minute, wait a minute it's a huge rocket launcher but on a truck?" then scratched his chin "All in all, I guess it would be possible to mount such on a horse cart, although the horses will somehow be used to the sound of rockets." He looked at the Pułkownik "But why don't they fire?"

The Pułkownik raised a surprised eyebrow "Then you don't know?"

"What don't I know?" quipped Donus

"That the main forces of Louria have not yet arrived, for now we are fighting with the advance guard, numerous but the advance guard." pointed out Lobsters "And these launchers are just for the main forces, the Lourians don't yet realize that the real hell is yet to come."

Donus slowly nodded, he understood the Polish intention. Using the rocket launcher now would most likely allow the main force of Louria to escape, and after all, that's not the point of having them escape certain death, is it?

At the same time

Trenches in the foreground of the Gim

3rd Marine Regiment


The loud, distinctive swish of bullets sounded high above his head. The Krabs began the accompaniment again. It will be quiet for a while, God and the artillerymen thanked, having just fired the last shells from his worn-out Tantal.

He watched for a moment as artillery blows fell on the damned Lourians like a bolt from the blue. He watched with grim satisfaction as the bone-frozen ground crumbled under the impact of artillery grenades hitting with a groan. Although it wasn't as spectacular as it had been two days ago when they first hit the still snow-covered clearing in front of the city everywhere, there was some magic in seeing the ground float under the impact of the blast.

"We have a moment's peace, eh Jan?" spoke up his teammate Hans Kleiner in a voice of relief "Damn fools, because of them we have fired two of us more bullets in these three days than our entire regiment has in the last thirty years!" he continued as soon as Jan nodded his head

"Is that good or bad?" asked Jan uncertainly, not knowing what his colleague meant.

"What good?" stunned Hans

Jan rolled his eyes, shook his head then sighed, "I ask you if it's a good thing that our regiment has shot less total in the last thirty years than we have in the last three days."

"AAA" exclaimed Hans "that's what I meant!" He nodded, saying "Yes, that's good. We make hell on earth when we need to, not when someone wants to cash in on this or that war."

"Or to boost se ego ." Added Jan mockingly, nodding in passing toward the Lourians being torn to shreds. The moans and panicked cries of the enemy were audible despite the deafening clamor of the artillery bombardment. When he first heard it he involuntarily squirmed, but now he didn't give a damn. Especially since the Gim militia had effectively cured him of more than minimal pity for Lourians. Scabby types, Jan ruled after talking to the locals having in mind, of course, the Lourians who are extremely loved by everyone.

Hans looked in the direction of his opponent's position, then glared at Jan "You know, I would accuse Hark of a lot, he's certainly a motherfucker but I wouldn't say he's trying to boost his ego. You know, that son of a bitch and a broken goat-fucker has the balls to stand exposed like that in extremely conspicuous armor on that hill."

"Then why didn't they shoot him?" marveled Jan.

"You think they didn't try?" asked Hans rhetorically.

Jan raised his eyebrows higher surprised "How?" he mouthed after a moment

Hans shrugged his shoulders "So far only the Lourians know," he looked up " and God the Father Almighty himself."

Silence fell for a moment, Jan slowly nodded and just as he was about to add something else their squad leader, Drużynowy (Section Leader) Krzysztof Serpees called out "Private Kleiner and Szulc, you'll talk to each other later, get your asses together, the local cook has prepared a regional specialty, take advantage of it!"

The privates looked at each other, then moved off without a word with a smile.

A few minutes later

Lourian encampment in the foreground of the Gim.


"Your Majesty!" cried the messenger, "I have news from General Frank, the main force will be here tomorrow."

Hark didn't even turn around, he watched as once again his army was ripped to shreds. The messenger felt uncomfortable seeing his ruler's lack of reaction, hearing that the King had come to his senses. Nevertheless, he knelt politely waiting for his ruler's response.

He was in this uncomfortable position and still in the sulfurous cold for a long time. And as he shivered harder the King reacted.

"You could have left my faithful servant the moment you said that." replied the King, the messenger marveled. The last time he saw and heard the King, then he sounded extremely proud even arrogant. Here he sounded extremely... how would you describe it, melancholy? Certainly not proud, one could see some wisdom in his voice and a readiness for some deed, he did not know what kind.

Besides, the very phrase "my faithful servant" was the first time he had heard it come out of the ruler's mouth. He had never heard or seen the King ever address anyone that way.

"Understood my lord," replied the servant and hurriedly moved away, leaving his ruler staring at the massacred soldiers. The latter, meanwhile, looked gloomily pondering, no change on the front, for the time being. That was one of his thoughts.

"What do I have to do to get the Poles to finally fire here?" he muttered under his breath, the sooner he "dies" the sooner this madness will end. Yet despite the downright obvious exposure to gunfire, nothing of the sort happened. Unfortunately, he could not personally lead his soldiers in the charge, although it would have helped him a lot in building a myth and given him a good alibi, his officers guarding him like an eye in the head.

"Well, nothing," he thought to himself, "maybe the arrival of the main forces will make the Poles pull a card from their sleeve that will be useful to me?" he hoped so, his plan was that he would "die" in a pitched battle leading his troops, his "death" in battle was to become a fig leaf for the end of the war and Hark himself would become the scapegoat on whom the blame for the outbreak of war was to be placed.

By the way, Hark intended to deliberately cause the death of many of the Lourian soldiers thus eliminating the possibility of a civil war, hence the emphasis on dividing forces within separate arcs of attack. He wanted the defenders to use this to devastate the Lourian troops.

In this way, all possible contenders for power would be significantly weakened, so that Maus could, according to the pre-established plan, take over as Interex until the Grand Duke of Mates was elected as the new ruler. In view of the fact that he would control the strongest group of troops, namely the Palace Guard, the Capital Garrison and the Order of Michalius, no one could realistically oppose him. He used up almost all his political capital to make sure there would be no problems, in the "afterlife" he would not need it.

By the way Hark hoped that the Poles would humiliate Parpaldia, that way he could be sure that firstly the Parpaldians would focus their anger on the Poles, and secondly such a little spite on his part for getting him into this situation and sacrificing Louria to save his own ass.

But one thing did not give him peace of mind. Namely, each army was supposed to report to him every six hours on its situation. That's how he knew what the First and Second Armies were doing in the north and how devastated they were by the steel monsters.

He also knew what was going on with the other armies going to Quilla, he had heard their complaints about the incessant aerial strikes of enemy dragon riders, the constant rallies or how in the identical manner as here in front of Gim they are annihilated by the enemy from afar.

There is only one army, the Third Army of Conquest led by Lieutenant General Adem, which gives no sign of life, not a single report has arrived since yesterday noon, and it was already approaching evening.

I wonder what happened to them?

Thirty Hours Earlier

Marching Column of the Third Army of Conquest

About 79 km south of Gim.


The soldiers roared with their voices, because singing it can't be called that, more marching songs. They had just covered more kilometers deep into enemy country, plundering and burning all the villages along the way. Unfortunately, to their disappointment, there was no one in them so they had to make do with a taste of female charms.

Not that Adem is complaining, women's screams during soldiering always played on his nerves. What the hell are they shouting for? After all, no one is going to help them, well, unless such a misguided knight wants to end up as an exercise dummy, always some attraction. Well, at least until some idiot comes to ask where his subordinate is, then the whole thing seems to happen and suddenly everyone feels like ripping his head off, not knowing why.

After all, these babies are inhumans anyway right? So what's the harm for them? Let them be useful for something.

"General!" remarked one of the officers to him, probably Dorian, or maybe Sterian? What a difference, some asshole.

"What?"

"Madar has detected a column of dragon riders from the east!" he said in a heavily concerned tone. Pepper, let the peasant loosen up, why the hell does he bother. What don't we have our own horsemen for such occasions? Adem thought.

"Send a squadron, stop the column and deploy anti-aircraft crossbows." The officer nodded and passed on the orders. Quickly the chants quieted and their place was replaced by shouts of orders and curses.

The marching column broke up, the crossbowmen and archers began to line up to cover the others, and the special anti-aircraft crossbows placed on the carts - quite a bit of machinery aided by magic so that they can pretend to be a machine gun - began to be unpacked and prepared.

Meanwhile, squadrons of Lourian horsemen of the vyverns turned sharply to the right towards the oncoming opponents. Adem himself pulled out his binoculars so he could see up close how the Que-Toys horsemen would be massacred by the elite of the Lourian forces.

He took a quick glance at his own before looking at the enemy's formation. Here he was met with a surprise, there was something else in the formation besides the vyverns. Some gray something that looked like an ironing board with a wooden log attached at the bottom. Some were already flying around the opponents on their own, leaving them behind, while others were just falling... no wait, they are unhooked and dropped from the enemy vivariums!

After a short fall, they began to pick up and fly faster than the vyverns. What's more, the enemy, after throwing all that gray stuff away, began to turn back. This seriously worried Adem, it was the first time he had seen the horsemen refuse to fight in the air, turning back because the enemy is more?

No it's not, it must have something to do with what the enemies threw out. He took a quick look at the little gray machines, they were flying at an astonishing speed in a huge swarm. There were far more of them than his riders.

The officer who commanded them saw this which is why he ordered a change of formation to cone formation, this was the basic formation for air combat against a more numerous enemy. By positioning themselves like an upright cone, each horseman was able to open fire as well as make a charge straight into the enemy's formation smashing its tight center.

Adem itched something when he saw this formation, he had a feeling that it was a mistake. As soon as they came within firing range and fire erupted from the mouths of the vultures, he thought it was a silly feeling, a moment later he cursed in his spirit that he was right.

The airborne locusts as soon as the vyverns slowed down to open fire dispersed, surrounding the Dragon Riders. With incredible grace and inhuman precision, they dodged the fire, then slammed into the bewildered Riders. Then a huge bang pierced the air, causing an involuntary reaction of fear. Adem then blinked for a brief moment, then began to shake his head because he was unpleasantly blinded by the sudden light.

He came back to the world a moment later as panicked shouts began to mix with the bass sound of an extremely fast-moving saw. With one last glance at the air, he could see the remnants of what was left of the Riders begin to fall to the ground, then he began to look around looking for the source of the commotion.

"Lord, Lord! The enemy!" cried Dorian in a panicked voice.

"Where, moron?" growled Adem furiously, still searching.

"Everywhere!" exclaimed Dorian showing various places. Adem followed his directions with his eyes, to his amazement and anger he discovered that the enemy was literally everywhere. He hid under his bloody nose, in the fields around the road in prepared dugouts from which gushed fire that massacred his men.

"FUCK!" he growled loudly as his horse began to freak out, as the Gray Locusts began to fall everywhere, engulfing in explosions entire battalions which, knocked into a heap, became easy targets.

"DORIAN!" he growled at his subordinate.

"Yes sir?" he said timidly

"PASS ON THE ORDER - DISPERSE AND STRIKE IN LOOSE FORMATION ON ENEMY HIDEOUTS!"

Dorian only nodded before he began to obey the command.

"ERIAN!" cried the other appendage, his personal magician. This one quickly turned toward the general "BARRIER, NOW!"

Erian obeyed the command at the last moment, a solid magical barrier to protect against everything appeared right in front of the Locust approaching from above, this one just smashed into the sudden obstacle in explosive style. Adem himself, a man with rather little empathy, squirmed as he saw the explosion blow away everyone outside the barrier, and the shrapnel tore apart the others who were unlucky enough to survive the blast wave.

"What was that my lord?" Asked a horrified one of the appendages, probably just Sterian.

"Polish Locusts." Replied the General coolly, silence fell for a moment before the sounds of the battle going on outside came to life again.

"Well," said the General, "Erian how much can you stand?"

"Such explosions?" asked Erian, Adem nodded "Not many, my lord." shook his head Erian "I need to strengthen it."

Adem nodded, throwing a sharp look to the other mages "Execute"

He then turned to Dorian and other staffers. "Set up equipment, organize constant communication, I want to know in five minutes what the fuck happened and what's going to happen," he said.

Dorian and his men saluted without a word, while Adem himself took out his pipe and, to calm his nerves, lit one. As soon as he let out the first cloud of smoke, he muttered under his breath. "These lowlanders at least make tobacco."

No one dared to draw the general's attention with an extremely politically incorrect statement. not that they wanted to, what was happening outside motivated them to sit quietly and occupy themselves with something besides looking at the surroundings. The interested party himself, meanwhile, started looking around again with binoculars.

He watched emotionlessly as his soldiers were eliminated by every possible method.

He paused when a couple of infantrymen desperately ran up to the barrier, and began pounding their fists demanding to be let in. The general looked at them, raised his eyebrows then made it clear that he would not let them in, if they wanted to survive they had to fend for themselves.

Moments later, the Locust fell, and what was left of the soldiers left a bloody mark on the barrier, the general nodded slightly in appreciation of the Polish technique, seeing how the soldiers' entrails slid along the barrier pulled downward by gravity.

A couple of his appendages couldn't stand the sight and emptied the contents of their stomachs. As soon as they finished, the general said, "Bury it, we don't want an unnecessary stench here." The soldiers complied with the order without a word.

"All ready my lord!" cried Dorian, Adem turned to him, nodded his head let out the last puff of smoke then put out his pipe.

"Time to get back to work." He muttered under his breath while standing on the map, "Report status!" he said to Dorian.

1st Marine Regiment

2 Retinue

The Prussians were attacking the enemy in a tyral line, between the ranks of infantry drove vehicles that easily broke through the thick snow. Everyone fired carefully saving ammunition, machine guns on the roofs of Varangians and Cossacks fired short bursts and ordinary infantrymen fired single shots.

"Take your time, take your time! Do not rush! Those there won't escape, save your ammunition!" Shouted Drużynowy Adolf Wolf, commander of Team Tenner, as he saw his subordinates firing in bursts. Their Kozak-4 fired over their heads with his Heaviest Machine Gun, a good-luck twenty, eliminating entire companies of the enemy, leaving the team's survivors to be slaughtered.

Tenner himself shot infrequently because he had almost no one to shoot at, and at the same time it was somehow not to his taste to shoot people as targets. For indeed, none of the opponents were able to threaten them. They ran forward, only to fall like a marionette that someone had cut the strings on which it moves.

He was more drawn to the world beyond the Gate, and those strange Nipponese people. He felt like peeking into their world and seeing what was going on there. What is the situation of his Heimat or Prussia and Vaterland or Poland. Well, and he was curious to see if another Florian Tenner was living there, what he was doing, what kind of life he had and so on.

He looked around to the side, his post led by Captain Mutig was advancing with other post from the 2nd Rota from the side of the forest where the Gate was located. In between them and the enemy, meanwhile, were natives of the militia who were firing from machine gun nests and mortars previously hidden under the snow in dugouts.

As far as he also knew, the Jegrzy (Jeagers), or Łowcy (Predators) as one prefers, were rampaging far to the rear of the column where Louria's stockade was located. All in all, logical, who better to exterminate than just robots?

"Attention Dragon!" someone shouted through Topaz, Tenner turned his gaze toward the marked vivre.

"Roger, it's about to fall." said a heavy bass voice in which Tenner recognized Konrad Figarski one of the operators of the Poprad, a self-propelled anti-aircraft rocket set, and a moment later a Piorun (Lightning) rocket from one of the truck's launchers fired from the forest behind them. It quickly flew up and pulled one of the surviving Dragon Riders of Louria from the sky.

At least it was a quick death, Tenner thought, staring at the falling corpse. The rocket hit perfectly where the rider had been, tearing the head of the vivre from the rest of the body. In passing, he was reminded of how those Nipponese behind the Gate had done the same thing to the Lymian Dragon Rider. Of course, he already knew that they were called Saderians, but the name Lymian had become so strongly accepted among the soldiers that it was like trying to teach everyone around them that Germans are called Deutsch. No advice, no one but the Germans themselves call them that.

Pardon, these Nipponese call them that, but only those and most likely also those who are trapped with the Poles on Arcadia. In his world, from what he has learned, they say Niemietsu*.

"A Wampir gets the job done doesn't he?" puzzled Geeler to him.

"What?" he asked pacing before catching what he meant. "Yes, yes. It does the job, one such swarm and the enemy without a decent air defense is at a loss." agreed Tenner. Here he had to admit to the WB Elektronika guys that they knew what they were doing. Such a Swarm that could be pulled down to a given location on demand was a powerful asset, because each of the drones was damn cheap hence any private could simply ask for a precision strike on a given location. What's different than those damn missiles, too expensive and always too few, hence having to ask to get even one.

On the other hand, bullets as they bring down is nothing to collect, although in Tenner's opinion it has always been overkill. Why blast such an expensive thing on just any target? For a base, some solid bunker or other expensive and important place. Rest assured, he understood here you need something of considerable caliber and at the same time much more accurate than classic artillery, even if modern artillery can hit a target the size of a pin.

Well exaggerated, the size of a head of cabbage. Nevertheless, the main objection is correct, bullets are a cool toy, especially for sailors and aviators but in many cases they are simply an expensive exaggeration. Although they have advantages, the price made them a special weapon and in many cases disposable. Well, and it was a very fickle weapon to begin with, naval and air clashes during the Fourth of July War showed that up to 75% of the missiles fired lost their target and just flew the hell away.

Drones, on the other hand, were designed and built from the very beginning to avoid this problem. Of course, they were not without drawbacks, the main one being that they are very susceptible to anti-aircraft defense, missiles less so but until the introduction of laser cannons, then they too became just a regular problem. Of course, the laser cannon, in addition to being very expensive, requires a lot of energy hence they are only on ships or larger vehicles, mainly tanks. Ordinary trucks have to make do with machine guns.

Fortunately, Louria being a medieval/renaissance magic kingdom is well below what even a backward country on Old Earth can usually do.

"Wait a minute did I see correctly, did a sudden wave of wind suddenly push many of the Sokoły (Falcons)?" said a puzzled Geeler as a strong wind appeared out of nowhere scattering the attacking drones.

Tenner shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing these magic tricks will do for them, until they knock down the Mewy (Seagulls) who are watching the whole area from the air and coordinating the Wampir at the same time, the Falcons will quickly regain control of themselves." After a moment, a pair of Falcons collided with each other, creating a spectacular explosion. "Well, unless they push them at each other with enough force." he commented afterwards, causing an involuntary giggle from his colleague.

"Florek, something seems to me that this is exactly what the magician who did it meant. They are yes, backward but they are not stupid." Geeler replied.

"Everyone sews as best they can!" interjected their teammate Vaupel while reloading his UKM-61D Bor.

"Jasper is right, everyone sews as best they can." agreed Geeler, after which another wave of Sokoły fell upon their victims like the animals from which they took their name. Hundreds if not thousands more Lourians said goodbye as the Sokoły performed their act. "And the fact that he doesn't know much. That's another matter isn't it?" he added in an ironic tone.

Some time later

321st Infantry Company of the 123rd Infantry Regiment of the Third Army of Conquest.


The shouts of the sergeant added to their animus. "Run, fuck, run if your life is good to you!" Dawir didn't need to be told twice, he dropped a higher gear and started running faster ahead. Instinct screamed he would get as far away from danger as possible, but training and a sense of solidarity with his colleagues still kept him in formation, though rather what was left of it.

What is there to say, the Poles are devils incarnate. Like demons of vengeance they fell on Lourian from the air with their monsters which someone called Locusts. Dawir recognizes this as an apt term.

But unfortunately, the Locusts were the beginning of the plagues. The roaring sticks, or hand cannons as someone smarter than him called them, were another, even more frightening. For such Locusts it is possible to see, and try to get rid of them because they are quite large. Magic, a crossbow or even a simple slingshot could deal with them, but a stick? How to avoid invisible arrows that are able to pierce even the best cuirasses as if they never existed?

The worst were those on their horseless carts, they played a very thick bass and the consequences of being blown off were nightmarish. A shot-off hand was a kind sentence, provided the company medic managed to save you from bleeding out. Which was not so obvious, for such cannons are capable of shooting a couple of soldiers in a row with chestnut-sized arrows. Armor and chainmail disintegrated as soon as they were hit.

Dawir himself had the misfortune to come under fire from one of them. Fortunately for a short time, the air charge forced a change of target. Unfortunately, within that brief moment, a good portion of the company fell dead.

What was left of it simply threw itself into flight. As Dawir later noticed a couple of colleagues who happened to survive disappeared somewhere in all the commotion of a few hours ago. He didn't cry for them, they don't need traitors.

"Get on the ground!" shouted the sergeant, and Dawir fell along with many others, just in front of the snowdrift. Those who didn't make it were cut down by invisible arrows.

"Fucking bastards, they are playing with us. They got their toys from the Poles then now they show who is in charge. How I hate these elvesbich." spoke up one of his companions, probably Towit.

"Shut up, Towit. Do you want to kill us all?" growled the sergeant, as in confirmation of his words a short series flew over their heads. Fortunately, the Toynians were aiming at someone else. Hearing the horse and human groans, it was easy to guess at whom.

"Too bad for the peasants, they were cool." muttered someone else, after these words there was silence. Some said a silent prayer for the fallen. They were supposed to serve as a diversion for Dawir's company, but unfortunately the Toynians got rid of them. Fortunately, they had a plan B.

Dawir smiled when he heard the distinctive dawn of a rocket taking off, quickly pulled his face down to the ground and pressed his hands to his ears. The muffled sounds of exploding stun rockets, an original Lourian design designed to break sieges, reached his ears. They were already so unpleasant, but what could the unsuspecting Toynians say?

He felt the vibrations of the rockets hitting the ground. He bared his teeth in satisfaction, now it was their turn to make a terrifying impact. As soon as the last rocket fell, the company rose quickly from the ground.

The sergeant swung his sword forward shouting "Forward! For Louria!" With the enthusiasm of an attacker, Dawir glared at the enemy dugout. He had already just taken the first step roaring in unison with the others "Louria!" and after a moment he felt something splitting his skull, the last thing he felt was as if the hooks driven into his body pulled him backwards. That's when Dawir, the son of Eniv, understood how gold, glory and other material possessions of this world are worth little.

*From the Polish 'Niemcy' which, of course, means Germany.
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
Roderius Continent

Kingdom of Louria

March 4, 1640 Year of the Central Calendar.

Northern Army Camp


Tension could be sensed growing in the tent, King Hark was finishing dressing in his armor with the help of his squire. In a moment he was about to leave his secretive and warm hiding place to begin speaking in front of his soldiers, knights and his no longer hiding allies from Parpaldia.

"Ready your highness," said the squire who had just fastened the last piece of armor. An important part of his plan, the real plan of which only a few knew about were a few trusted bodyguards, his two favorite mistresses about whose fidelity he was sure, and his first minister Maus who was to negotiate peace with Poland after his "death".

He nodded wordlessly to Hark, then stepped out of the tent and, unusually for this time of year, the winter sun reflected on his cuirass. He squinted in pain, the sunlight also reflected unpleasantly on the snow around him.

He blinked a few times as he walked toward the stage prepared for the occasion from where his soldiers, with the help of magic, could hear and see him.

"The soldiers are waiting for your majesty." Pandour, commander of the Northern Army, said. His appearance had always to Hark resembled a battered fat dog with an idiotic mustache. Hark only nodded at this news. He then walked over to the previously prepared stand, climbed a couple of stairs and, after grunting to avoid sounding ochre, began a speech. A speech that was to go down in history as one of the best and greatest speeches ever made in Arcadia and on Earth. A speech that even historians hostile to Harka were proud of.

It began with the words "Great Warriors of Louria!...

No less can the whole thing be summarized by a famous quote from the great Roman leader and last dictator of Rome.

The dice have been thrown.

Principality of Que-Toyne

March 11, 1640 of the Year of the Central Calendar/ Anno Domini 2022.

The village of Pilar, about 23 km northeast of Gim.


The roar of the cannons once again sounded its loud bang, any snow that lay on the village rooftops had long since fallen under the unending shelling. Day after day, the 11th Mazurian Artillery Regiment, belonging to the 1st Division, shelled the Gim Lourians who were in the foreground.

Although the villagers complained about the constant noise, they thanked the Gods after all that their only inconvenience was the incessant thunder of the Krab self-propelled cannon howitzers. They did not have to, like those poor people from the near borderland, throw everything they have and, taking only the most necessary things, leave their homes to avoid the Lourian troops murdering, burning and plundering everything along the way.

Especially since this year's winter is surprisingly prolonged, with no signs of spring. While this was good news for the Poles stationed in their country, as there is no stubborn mud due to everything being frozen, it was terrible news for the Que-Toynians. After all, they all made their living from farm work, every day of winter means one less day in the growing season.

Of course, the famine will not threaten them, which no noble lord of Que-Toyne could afford, in which they were close to the Polish nobility who, in times of famine, did not force peasants to either sell their crops or forcibly give it to their lords. It was, however, the effects of the prolonged winter period that would hit everyone.

War beyond the border, rather should not.

"Artillery is the Lord, King and God of war in one." liked to say Pułkownik (Colonel) Jan Weiss, commander of the 11th Regiment. "We will chop so long in Lourian that not even a stone will be left on a stone." He explained to the assigned liaison officer from the Que-Toyne Army, Major Donus.

"From so far away Pułkownik?" asked Donus in disbelief, although he did not hide he was impressed by those overlapping boxes with a really long barrel sticking out of the top box which was called a tower by those Poles... Prussians... one dog, those foreigners.

As for firepower, in this he trusted the Pułkownik's word. After all, they wouldn't build such a complicated and most likely expensive contraption for a picnic, it must apparently accomplish such things, especially since the Pułkownik saying that no stone will be left unturned was speaking as if stating the fact that the sky is blue, the water is wet and the Lourians are a pile of shit to be buried in the ground, preferably in pieces.

"Major, such a distance is so much as nothing for our Krabs, in fact they can shoot twice as far from the fire zone as we are but this would require the use of less economical missiles without going into technical details."

Major Donus nodded, "True, true wars are expensive, especially with toys like these Krabs of yours." He paused when the Krabs once again began firing a salvo of shells, from what he counted three per minute, which, with a stockpile of forty rounds, makes for about fourteen minutes of uninterrupted firing, before the cannon went quiet for a while to load back up. According to what he learned, the number of shots is only half of the total capacity.

He watched in awe as the artillery batteries one by one within their platoons (the artillery does not use retinue like the Cavalry and Infantry) opened fire to continuously pelt the Lourians with crushing fire for the next hour and twenty-four minutes, or so he counted it in his head. And this was one of the two squadrons of Krab self-propelled cannon howitzers that fired on the Lourians before Gim!

"And those trucks are what?" Donus pointed out the vehicles standing idle and the crews around them who were mostly engaged in what soldiers do when they have nothing to do, that is, play cards, tell unquoteable jokes and other such things.

The Pułkownik smiled mischievously "This, esteemed Major, is our surprise for the enemy, the WR-40 Langusta."

Donus looked at him questioningly

"Do you know rockets?" Donus nodded

"And have you seen the rocket launcher?"

Donus marveled "Wait a minute, wait a minute it's a huge rocket launcher but on a truck?" then scratched his chin "All in all, I guess it would be possible to mount such on a horse cart, although the horses will somehow be used to the sound of rockets." He looked at the Pułkownik "But why don't they fire?"

The Pułkownik raised a surprised eyebrow "Then you don't know?"

"What don't I know?" quipped Donus

"That the main forces of Louria have not yet arrived, for now we are fighting with the advance guard, numerous but the advance guard." pointed out Lobsters "And these launchers are just for the main forces, the Lourians don't yet realize that the real hell is yet to come."

Donus slowly nodded, he understood the Polish intention. Using the rocket launcher now would most likely allow the main force of Louria to escape, and after all, that's not the point of having them escape certain death, is it?

At the same time

Trenches in the foreground of the Gim

3rd Marine Regiment


The loud, distinctive swish of bullets sounded high above his head. The Krabs began the accompaniment again. It will be quiet for a while, God and the artillerymen thanked, having just fired the last shells from his worn-out Tantal.

He watched for a moment as artillery blows fell on the damned Lourians like a bolt from the blue. He watched with grim satisfaction as the bone-frozen ground crumbled under the impact of artillery grenades hitting with a groan. Although it wasn't as spectacular as it had been two days ago when they first hit the still snow-covered clearing in front of the city everywhere, there was some magic in seeing the ground float under the impact of the blast.

"We have a moment's peace, eh Jan?" spoke up his teammate Hans Kleiner in a voice of relief "Damn fools, because of them we have fired two of us more bullets in these three days than our entire regiment has in the last thirty years!" he continued as soon as Jan nodded his head

"Is that good or bad?" asked Jan uncertainly, not knowing what his colleague meant.

"What good?" stunned Hans

Jan rolled his eyes, shook his head then sighed, "I ask you if it's a good thing that our regiment has shot less total in the last thirty years than we have in the last three days."

"AAA" exclaimed Hans "that's what I meant!" He nodded, saying "Yes, that's good. We make hell on earth when we need to, not when someone wants to cash in on this or that war."

"Or to boost se ego ." Added Jan mockingly, nodding in passing toward the Lourians being torn to shreds. The moans and panicked cries of the enemy were audible despite the deafening clamor of the artillery bombardment. When he first heard it he involuntarily squirmed, but now he didn't give a damn. Especially since the Gim militia had effectively cured him of more than minimal pity for Lourians. Scabby types, Jan ruled after talking to the locals having in mind, of course, the Lourians who are extremely loved by everyone.

Hans looked in the direction of his opponent's position, then glared at Jan "You know, I would accuse Hark of a lot, he's certainly a motherfucker but I wouldn't say he's trying to boost his ego. You know, that son of a bitch and a broken goat-fucker has the balls to stand exposed like that in extremely conspicuous armor on that hill."

"Then why didn't they shoot him?" marveled Jan.

"You think they didn't try?" asked Hans rhetorically.

Jan raised his eyebrows higher surprised "How?" he mouthed after a moment

Hans shrugged his shoulders "So far only the Lourians know," he looked up " and God the Father Almighty himself."

Silence fell for a moment, Jan slowly nodded and just as he was about to add something else their squad leader, Drużynowy (Section Leader) Krzysztof Serpees called out "Private Kleiner and Szulc, you'll talk to each other later, get your asses together, the local cook has prepared a regional specialty, take advantage of it!"

The privates looked at each other, then moved off without a word with a smile.

A few minutes later

Lourian encampment in the foreground of the Gim.


"Your Majesty!" cried the messenger, "I have news from General Frank, the main force will be here tomorrow."

Hark didn't even turn around, he watched as once again his army was ripped to shreds. The messenger felt uncomfortable seeing his ruler's lack of reaction, hearing that the King had come to his senses. Nevertheless, he knelt politely waiting for his ruler's response.

He was in this uncomfortable position and still in the sulfurous cold for a long time. And as he shivered harder the King reacted.

"You could have left my faithful servant the moment you said that." replied the King, the messenger marveled. The last time he saw and heard the King, then he sounded extremely proud even arrogant. Here he sounded extremely... how would you describe it, melancholy? Certainly not proud, one could see some wisdom in his voice and a readiness for some deed, he did not know what kind.

Besides, the very phrase "my faithful servant" was the first time he had heard it come out of the ruler's mouth. He had never heard or seen the King ever address anyone that way.

"Understood my lord," replied the servant and hurriedly moved away, leaving his ruler staring at the massacred soldiers. The latter, meanwhile, looked gloomily pondering, no change on the front, for the time being. That was one of his thoughts.

"What do I have to do to get the Poles to finally fire here?" he muttered under his breath, the sooner he "dies" the sooner this madness will end. Yet despite the downright obvious exposure to gunfire, nothing of the sort happened. Unfortunately, he could not personally lead his soldiers in the charge, although it would have helped him a lot in building a myth and given him a good alibi, his officers guarding him like an eye in the head.

"Well, nothing," he thought to himself, "maybe the arrival of the main forces will make the Poles pull a card from their sleeve that will be useful to me?" he hoped so, his plan was that he would "die" in a pitched battle leading his troops, his "death" in battle was to become a fig leaf for the end of the war and Hark himself would become the scapegoat on whom the blame for the outbreak of war was to be placed.

By the way, Hark intended to deliberately cause the death of many of the Lourian soldiers thus eliminating the possibility of a civil war, hence the emphasis on dividing forces within separate arcs of attack. He wanted the defenders to use this to devastate the Lourian troops.

In this way, all possible contenders for power would be significantly weakened, so that Maus could, according to the pre-established plan, take over as Interex until the Grand Duke of Mates was elected as the new ruler. In view of the fact that he would control the strongest group of troops, namely the Palace Guard, the Capital Garrison and the Order of Michalius, no one could realistically oppose him. He used up almost all his political capital to make sure there would be no problems, in the "afterlife" he would not need it.

By the way Hark hoped that the Poles would humiliate Parpaldia, that way he could be sure that firstly the Parpaldians would focus their anger on the Poles, and secondly such a little spite on his part for getting him into this situation and sacrificing Louria to save his own ass.

But one thing did not give him peace of mind. Namely, each army was supposed to report to him every six hours on its situation. That's how he knew what the First and Second Armies were doing in the north and how devastated they were by the steel monsters.

He also knew what was going on with the other armies going to Quilla, he had heard their complaints about the incessant aerial strikes of enemy dragon riders, the constant rallies or how in the identical manner as here in front of Gim they are annihilated by the enemy from afar.

There is only one army, the Third Army of Conquest led by Lieutenant General Adem, which gives no sign of life, not a single report has arrived since yesterday noon, and it was already approaching evening.

I wonder what happened to them?

Thirty Hours Earlier

Marching Column of the Third Army of Conquest

About 79 km south of Gim.


The soldiers roared with their voices, because singing it can't be called that, more marching songs. They had just covered more kilometers deep into enemy country, plundering and burning all the villages along the way. Unfortunately, to their disappointment, there was no one in them so they had to make do with a taste of female charms.

Not that Adem is complaining, women's screams during soldiering always played on his nerves. What the hell are they shouting for? After all, no one is going to help them, well, unless such a misguided knight wants to end up as an exercise dummy, always some attraction. Well, at least until some idiot comes to ask where his subordinate is, then the whole thing seems to happen and suddenly everyone feels like ripping his head off, not knowing why.

After all, these babies are inhumans anyway right? So what's the harm for them? Let them be useful for something.

"General!" remarked one of the officers to him, probably Dorian, or maybe Sterian? What a difference, some asshole.

"What?"

"Madar has detected a column of dragon riders from the east!" he said in a heavily concerned tone. Pepper, let the peasant loosen up, why the hell does he bother. What don't we have our own horsemen for such occasions? Adem thought.

"Send a squadron, stop the column and deploy anti-aircraft crossbows." The officer nodded and passed on the orders. Quickly the chants quieted and their place was replaced by shouts of orders and curses.

The marching column broke up, the crossbowmen and archers began to line up to cover the others, and the special anti-aircraft crossbows placed on the carts - quite a bit of machinery aided by magic so that they can pretend to be a machine gun - began to be unpacked and prepared.

Meanwhile, squadrons of Lourian horsemen of the vyverns turned sharply to the right towards the oncoming opponents. Adem himself pulled out his binoculars so he could see up close how the Que-Toys horsemen would be massacred by the elite of the Lourian forces.

He took a quick glance at his own before looking at the enemy's formation. Here he was met with a surprise, there was something else in the formation besides the vyverns. Some gray something that looked like an ironing board with a wooden log attached at the bottom. Some were already flying around the opponents on their own, leaving them behind, while others were just falling... no wait, they are unhooked and dropped from the enemy vivariums!

After a short fall, they began to pick up and fly faster than the vyverns. What's more, the enemy, after throwing all that gray stuff away, began to turn back. This seriously worried Adem, it was the first time he had seen the horsemen refuse to fight in the air, turning back because the enemy is more?

No it's not, it must have something to do with what the enemies threw out. He took a quick look at the little gray machines, they were flying at an astonishing speed in a huge swarm. There were far more of them than his riders.

The officer who commanded them saw this which is why he ordered a change of formation to cone formation, this was the basic formation for air combat against a more numerous enemy. By positioning themselves like an upright cone, each horseman was able to open fire as well as make a charge straight into the enemy's formation smashing its tight center.

Adem itched something when he saw this formation, he had a feeling that it was a mistake. As soon as they came within firing range and fire erupted from the mouths of the vultures, he thought it was a silly feeling, a moment later he cursed in his spirit that he was right.

The airborne locusts as soon as the vyverns slowed down to open fire dispersed, surrounding the Dragon Riders. With incredible grace and inhuman precision, they dodged the fire, then slammed into the bewildered Riders. Then a huge bang pierced the air, causing an involuntary reaction of fear. Adem then blinked for a brief moment, then began to shake his head because he was unpleasantly blinded by the sudden light.

He came back to the world a moment later as panicked shouts began to mix with the bass sound of an extremely fast-moving saw. With one last glance at the air, he could see the remnants of what was left of the Riders begin to fall to the ground, then he began to look around looking for the source of the commotion.

"Lord, Lord! The enemy!" cried Dorian in a panicked voice.

"Where, moron?" growled Adem furiously, still searching.

"Everywhere!" exclaimed Dorian showing various places. Adem followed his directions with his eyes, to his amazement and anger he discovered that the enemy was literally everywhere. He hid under his bloody nose, in the fields around the road in prepared dugouts from which gushed fire that massacred his men.

"FUCK!" he growled loudly as his horse began to freak out, as the Gray Locusts began to fall everywhere, engulfing in explosions entire battalions which, knocked into a heap, became easy targets.

"DORIAN!" he growled at his subordinate.

"Yes sir?" he said timidly

"PASS ON THE ORDER - DISPERSE AND STRIKE IN LOOSE FORMATION ON ENEMY HIDEOUTS!"

Dorian only nodded before he began to obey the command.

"ERIAN!" cried the other appendage, his personal magician. This one quickly turned toward the general "BARRIER, NOW!"

Erian obeyed the command at the last moment, a solid magical barrier to protect against everything appeared right in front of the Locust approaching from above, this one just smashed into the sudden obstacle in explosive style. Adem himself, a man with rather little empathy, squirmed as he saw the explosion blow away everyone outside the barrier, and the shrapnel tore apart the others who were unlucky enough to survive the blast wave.

"What was that my lord?" Asked a horrified one of the appendages, probably just Sterian.

"Polish Locusts." Replied the General coolly, silence fell for a moment before the sounds of the battle going on outside came to life again.

"Well," said the General, "Erian how much can you stand?"

"Such explosions?" asked Erian, Adem nodded "Not many, my lord." shook his head Erian "I need to strengthen it."

Adem nodded, throwing a sharp look to the other mages "Execute"

He then turned to Dorian and other staffers. "Set up equipment, organize constant communication, I want to know in five minutes what the fuck happened and what's going to happen," he said.

Dorian and his men saluted without a word, while Adem himself took out his pipe and, to calm his nerves, lit one. As soon as he let out the first cloud of smoke, he muttered under his breath. "These lowlanders at least make tobacco."

No one dared to draw the general's attention with an extremely politically incorrect statement. not that they wanted to, what was happening outside motivated them to sit quietly and occupy themselves with something besides looking at the surroundings. The interested party himself, meanwhile, started looking around again with binoculars.

He watched emotionlessly as his soldiers were eliminated by every possible method.

He paused when a couple of infantrymen desperately ran up to the barrier, and began pounding their fists demanding to be let in. The general looked at them, raised his eyebrows then made it clear that he would not let them in, if they wanted to survive they had to fend for themselves.

Moments later, the Locust fell, and what was left of the soldiers left a bloody mark on the barrier, the general nodded slightly in appreciation of the Polish technique, seeing how the soldiers' entrails slid along the barrier pulled downward by gravity.

A couple of his appendages couldn't stand the sight and emptied the contents of their stomachs. As soon as they finished, the general said, "Bury it, we don't want an unnecessary stench here." The soldiers complied with the order without a word.

"All ready my lord!" cried Dorian, Adem turned to him, nodded his head let out the last puff of smoke then put out his pipe.

"Time to get back to work." He muttered under his breath while standing on the map, "Report status!" he said to Dorian.

1st Marine Regiment

2 Retinue

The Prussians were attacking the enemy in a tyral line, between the ranks of infantry drove vehicles that easily broke through the thick snow. Everyone fired carefully saving ammunition, machine guns on the roofs of Varangians and Cossacks fired short bursts and ordinary infantrymen fired single shots.

"Take your time, take your time! Do not rush! Those there won't escape, save your ammunition!" Shouted Drużynowy Adolf Wolf, commander of Team Tenner, as he saw his subordinates firing in bursts. Their Kozak-4 fired over their heads with his Heaviest Machine Gun, a good-luck twenty, eliminating entire companies of the enemy, leaving the team's survivors to be slaughtered.

Tenner himself shot infrequently because he had almost no one to shoot at, and at the same time it was somehow not to his taste to shoot people as targets. For indeed, none of the opponents were able to threaten them. They ran forward, only to fall like a marionette that someone had cut the strings on which it moves.

He was more drawn to the world beyond the Gate, and those strange Nipponese people. He felt like peeking into their world and seeing what was going on there. What is the situation of his Heimat or Prussia and Vaterland or Poland. Well, and he was curious to see if another Florian Tenner was living there, what he was doing, what kind of life he had and so on.

He looked around to the side, his post led by Captain Mutig was advancing with other post from the 2nd Rota from the side of the forest where the Gate was located. In between them and the enemy, meanwhile, were natives of the militia who were firing from machine gun nests and mortars previously hidden under the snow in dugouts.

As far as he also knew, the Jegrzy (Jeagers), or Łowcy (Predators) as one prefers, were rampaging far to the rear of the column where Louria's stockade was located. All in all, logical, who better to exterminate than just robots?

"Attention Dragon!" someone shouted through Topaz, Tenner turned his gaze toward the marked vivre.

"Roger, it's about to fall." said a heavy bass voice in which Tenner recognized Konrad Figarski one of the operators of the Poprad, a self-propelled anti-aircraft rocket set, and a moment later a Piorun (Lightning) rocket from one of the truck's launchers fired from the forest behind them. It quickly flew up and pulled one of the surviving Dragon Riders of Louria from the sky.

At least it was a quick death, Tenner thought, staring at the falling corpse. The rocket hit perfectly where the rider had been, tearing the head of the vivre from the rest of the body. In passing, he was reminded of how those Nipponese behind the Gate had done the same thing to the Lymian Dragon Rider. Of course, he already knew that they were called Saderians, but the name Lymian had become so strongly accepted among the soldiers that it was like trying to teach everyone around them that Germans are called Deutsch. No advice, no one but the Germans themselves call them that.

Pardon, these Nipponese call them that, but only those and most likely also those who are trapped with the Poles on Arcadia. In his world, from what he has learned, they say Niemietsu*.

"A Wampir gets the job done doesn't he?" puzzled Geeler to him.

"What?" he asked pacing before catching what he meant. "Yes, yes. It does the job, one such swarm and the enemy without a decent air defense is at a loss." agreed Tenner. Here he had to admit to the WB Elektronika guys that they knew what they were doing. Such a Swarm that could be pulled down to a given location on demand was a powerful asset, because each of the drones was damn cheap hence any private could simply ask for a precision strike on a given location. What's different than those damn missiles, too expensive and always too few, hence having to ask to get even one.

On the other hand, bullets as they bring down is nothing to collect, although in Tenner's opinion it has always been overkill. Why blast such an expensive thing on just any target? For a base, some solid bunker or other expensive and important place. Rest assured, he understood here you need something of considerable caliber and at the same time much more accurate than classic artillery, even if modern artillery can hit a target the size of a pin.

Well exaggerated, the size of a head of cabbage. Nevertheless, the main objection is correct, bullets are a cool toy, especially for sailors and aviators but in many cases they are simply an expensive exaggeration. Although they have advantages, the price made them a special weapon and in many cases disposable. Well, and it was a very fickle weapon to begin with, naval and air clashes during the Fourth of July War showed that up to 75% of the missiles fired lost their target and just flew the hell away.

Drones, on the other hand, were designed and built from the very beginning to avoid this problem. Of course, they were not without drawbacks, the main one being that they are very susceptible to anti-aircraft defense, missiles less so but until the introduction of laser cannons, then they too became just a regular problem. Of course, the laser cannon, in addition to being very expensive, requires a lot of energy hence they are only on ships or larger vehicles, mainly tanks. Ordinary trucks have to make do with machine guns.

Fortunately, Louria being a medieval/renaissance magic kingdom is well below what even a backward country on Old Earth can usually do.

"Wait a minute did I see correctly, did a sudden wave of wind suddenly push many of the Sokoły (Falcons)?" said a puzzled Geeler as a strong wind appeared out of nowhere scattering the attacking drones.

Tenner shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing these magic tricks will do for them, until they knock down the Mewy (Seagulls) who are watching the whole area from the air and coordinating the Wampir at the same time, the Falcons will quickly regain control of themselves." After a moment, a pair of Falcons collided with each other, creating a spectacular explosion. "Well, unless they push them at each other with enough force." he commented afterwards, causing an involuntary giggle from his colleague.

"Florek, something seems to me that this is exactly what the magician who did it meant. They are yes, backward but they are not stupid." Geeler replied.

"Everyone sews as best they can!" interjected their teammate Vaupel while reloading his UKM-61D Bor.

"Jasper is right, everyone sews as best they can." agreed Geeler, after which another wave of Sokoły fell upon their victims like the animals from which they took their name. Hundreds if not thousands more Lourians said goodbye as the Sokoły performed their act. "And the fact that he doesn't know much. That's another matter isn't it?" he added in an ironic tone.

Some time later

321st Infantry Company of the 123rd Infantry Regiment of the Third Army of Conquest.


The shouts of the sergeant added to their animus. "Run, fuck, run if your life is good to you!" Dawir didn't need to be told twice, he dropped a higher gear and started running faster ahead. Instinct screamed he would get as far away from danger as possible, but training and a sense of solidarity with his colleagues still kept him in formation, though rather what was left of it.

What is there to say, the Poles are devils incarnate. Like demons of vengeance they fell on Lourian from the air with their monsters which someone called Locusts. Dawir recognizes this as an apt term.

But unfortunately, the Locusts were the beginning of the plagues. The roaring sticks, or hand cannons as someone smarter than him called them, were another, even more frightening. For such Locusts it is possible to see, and try to get rid of them because they are quite large. Magic, a crossbow or even a simple slingshot could deal with them, but a stick? How to avoid invisible arrows that are able to pierce even the best cuirasses as if they never existed?

The worst were those on their horseless carts, they played a very thick bass and the consequences of being blown off were nightmarish. A shot-off hand was a kind sentence, provided the company medic managed to save you from bleeding out. Which was not so obvious, for such cannons are capable of shooting a couple of soldiers in a row with chestnut-sized arrows. Armor and chainmail disintegrated as soon as they were hit.

Dawir himself had the misfortune to come under fire from one of them. Fortunately for a short time, the air charge forced a change of target. Unfortunately, within that brief moment, a good portion of the company fell dead.

What was left of it simply threw itself into flight. As Dawir later noticed a couple of colleagues who happened to survive disappeared somewhere in all the commotion of a few hours ago. He didn't cry for them, they don't need traitors.

"Get on the ground!" shouted the sergeant, and Dawir fell along with many others, just in front of the snowdrift. Those who didn't make it were cut down by invisible arrows.

"Fucking bastards, they are playing with us. They got their toys from the Poles then now they show who is in charge. How I hate these elvesbich." spoke up one of his companions, probably Towit.

"Shut up, Towit. Do you want to kill us all?" growled the sergeant, as in confirmation of his words a short series flew over their heads. Fortunately, the Toynians were aiming at someone else. Hearing the horse and human groans, it was easy to guess at whom.

"Too bad for the peasants, they were cool." muttered someone else, after these words there was silence. Some said a silent prayer for the fallen. They were supposed to serve as a diversion for Dawir's company, but unfortunately the Toynians got rid of them. Fortunately, they had a plan B.

Dawir smiled when he heard the distinctive dawn of a rocket taking off, quickly pulled his face down to the ground and pressed his hands to his ears. The muffled sounds of exploding stun rockets, an original Lourian design designed to break sieges, reached his ears. They were already so unpleasant, but what could the unsuspecting Toynians say?

He felt the vibrations of the rockets hitting the ground. He bared his teeth in satisfaction, now it was their turn to make a terrifying impact. As soon as the last rocket fell, the company rose quickly from the ground.

The sergeant swung his sword forward shouting "Forward! For Louria!" With the enthusiasm of an attacker, Dawir glared at the enemy dugout. He had already just taken the first step roaring in unison with the others "Louria!" and after a moment he felt something splitting his skull, the last thing he felt was as if the hooks driven into his body pulled him backwards. That's when Dawir, the son of Eniv, understood how gold, glory and other material possessions of this world are worth little.

*From the Polish 'Niemcy' which, of course, means Germany.


Why they do not run yet? King on hill is bad argument for staing,when you are massacred without hurting enemy.
And why poles could not kill Hark? they tried,right?
 

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
And why poles could not kill Hark? they tried,right?
They tried but his special armour prevented it. And an entire elite company of Jegrzy (Jeagers) (i.e. a special company of snipers, assigned by the General Staff at its discretion) tried to kill him. Once they all shot together, at the same moment.
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
They tried but his special armour prevented it. And an entire elite company of Jegrzy (Jeagers) (i.e. a special company of snipers, assigned by the General Staff at its discretion) tried to kill him. Once they all shot together, at the same moment.

Would he survive Langusta and Krab,too?
In oryginal manga there were one dude with magical schield who survived artillery barrage thanks to that,and could come back to his waifu.
 
Beginning of the End

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
Principality of Que-Toyne
10/11 March 1640 of the Central Calendar Year/ Anno Domini 2021.
1st Marine Division
11th Tank Battalion


A thick night had already fallen, not a single star could be seen in the sky, not even the moon could break through the clouds, despite this, the battle, which had already begun before the second breakfast, was in full swing. The marching columns of Louria's army were hit by surprise by the combined forces of the 1st Marine Infantry Regiment, the 11th Tank Battalion and two banners of the Que-Toyne Knights supported by peasant contingents brought by their masters and rearmed with Polish weapons.

"Got it!" shouted Grupowy (Corporal) Karsten Blau, commander of the 33TP light tank. It was a nimble little machine, armed with a powerful 120-millimeter smoothbore cannon, one laser cannon and three large-caliber machine guns. It could easily accelerate to over 80 km/h regardless of the terrain.

The 33TP itself was a special vehicle, used exclusively by naval and airborne infantry as a tank substitute, fulfilling its role as fire support although, unlike the monster that was the 70TP, it can also carry more than four landing troops inside its hull like a thoroughbred armored personnel carrier.

Depending on the type of formation it is to go into, it may also have the ability to float or to land from the air with a crew inside the vehicle. All at the cost of relative average resistance to attacks as well as the cramped crew compartment. Of course, the armor can be increased by adding additional armor plates as well as reactive armor, making it capable of fighting a basic tank as an equal. Unfortunately, then you lose the advantage of low weight and thus speed, as well as the ability to float and air-drop.

The solution to this pain is the new version of the 33TP, the 33(7)TP created in 2020. Unlike the 33 it is made not of steel but of graphene, being by the way the first tank made of this material. In this way the weight was whittled down from 33 tons to more than 7 hence the seven in parentheses, for the full name is of course Thirty-three Polish Ton. Almost all of the weight is made up of the tank's components, ammunition and crew, graphene itself is barely 1 percent of the total weight.

Unfortunately for the 11th Battalion, they are forced to get around the taste. So far, intentions to retire the current 33TPs in their unit have not been heard. Hardly surprising, the 33TP has been in mass production for 5 years, and the first prototype was built in 2010! These tanks are like new, barely worn out and already tankers want to replace them with a new version of the same toy that differ mainly in the material it is made of.

Besides, the Cwana Helga (Clever Helga), as her crew called her, is barely three years old since she came out of the factory. Replacing her with a new version would not be fair to her, especially since she performs well and the current battle is proof of that.

Although Blau himself wouldn't call what he sees a battle, at his command center of the universe, as the commander's position in the 33TP is commonly called due to the fact that the commander is surrounded by monitors showing him images from the cameras of the unmanned tower. For him, it was a one-sided massacre, brutally beating the victim so long that he lost his eyesight and yet he is still under attack.

Nevertheless, an order is an order, and by the way, there is no justice in war. He would have to be a complete idiot to try to fight the Lourians fairly. He's not such a sucker to go for it, he still loves his life. He's a tankman, not a knight, and it's easier to become the former than the latter.

"Contact! Infantry, 500 meters azimuth 50 degrees." quickly threw Blau noticing another formation of infantry trying to escape from the steel monsters.

"Roger, infantry, 500 meters, azimuth 50 degrees." countered the tank gunner, Private Alwin Stauss who began to take aim immediately after the commander turned the turret toward the enemy.

"Fire!" ordered Blau

Barely a moment later, he pulled the trigger and the cannon fired. The muffled sound of a gunshot and an explosion quickly reached the gunner's ears, at which time in the background the automatic loading machine loaded another fragmentation-destruction shell.

As soon as he sounded the sound confirming that he was ready to fire, he again put his eye to the sight. All covered in the bicolor of black and white, he again aimed at the surviving column and fired on the commander's order, and so once more before the commander confirmed the destruction of the enemy unit.

"None of this is a challenge." Alwin spoke up.

"Are you complaining?" driver Stefan Mossor asked him.

"No, I'm stating the obvious." Alwin replied.

"That's good, you'd still be bringing us trouble." stated Stefan

"Less chatter gentlemen, Stefan move Helga forward we are to pursue the enemy." Karsten interjected.

"Yes, sir." Stefan replied, and after a moment the tank's engine whined louder moving the thirty-three ton beast out of the way.

Next to the Helga rode three other machines pursuing the enemy, from time to time the armored post fired at more Lourian troops on the move.

It was not too difficult, the opponents fled in compact groups without order and composition, they did not have much chance with a tank, even a light one! Doesn't mean that they didn't try to stop the tankers pursuing them.

Another rumbling sounded inside the hull of the Helga, the enemy mages threw whatever they could at the vehicles. Fireballs, cutting wind or simply chunks of earth pressed into the vehicles with tremendous force. It didn't help, the armor designed for BWP and KTO cannons was more than enough to take such blows without a problem. And the side aprons hiding the tracks shielded against attempts to put anything between the wheels to stop the 33TP.

Not that they wouldn't try to put anything in anyway, Helga's crew can personally attest to that.
The chase continued at its best despite attempts to escape, the tanks driving relatively slowly so as not to outrun the fleeing men. As time passed, more and more escapees fell out of the formation. First one at a time, then small groups of two-three, and eventually whole squads began to fall to the ground or stop.

"Leave them alone!" shouted Karsten to Alwin as he tried to fire at one of the larger groups that fell away. "We're taking them as prisoners." he explained to the gunman.

"I know! It's a habit." retorted Alwin
Karsten only rolled his eyes, Alwin could not respond normally in such situations.

"Who's going to catch them?" asked Stefan for whom the whole chase was tedious, he was going barely 20 km/h without much effort overcoming obstacles.

"Infantry behind us." replied Blau

"That's where the infantry is?" quipped Alwin

"Yes, Toynian peasants with knights."

"Well, that explains why I don't see them on Topaz," he said. interjected Stefan who, as a driver, had a separate panel on Topaz to see where the other tanks were in case of emergency.

"And don't they by any chance have liaison officers?" pointed out Alwin

"They have they have, it's just that Stefan as the driver has Topaz set to post level so he doesn't see them."
Stefan tapped his hand against his head "Well, yes!" then switched the level to general. After a while, markers of allied units popped up. Thanks to which he could see that allied infantry was pulling behind them. By the way, he noticed that the other two postets from the rota similarly pursued or more correctly chased the Lourian straight to the Marine infantry positions in the forest.

"We are herding them like game into an ambush." stated Stefan

"Yes that's right, we are to drive this group straight under the barrels of the fourth rota from the third squad." confirmed Karsten

"And then what?" asked Stefan

"We will try to force them to surrender." replied the commander

"What if it doesn't work out?" asked Stefan but Karsten left it unanswered. "I see, there will be a scramble." he muttered more quietly.

Alwin decided to change the subject to "Fourth Rota, fourth Rota. Aren't they the ones from the Gate and the Lymians?"

"Yes it's you." confirmed Karsten

"Well it's time for us to have our Carnage too. I wonder what the Nipponese will call it? Carnage of the Glade of the Moon?" joked Alwin, referring to the rumors spreading at lightning speed among the 1st Regiment.

"Nipponese? Where would the Nipponese come from?" quipped Stefan

"And why shouldn't they go there? A gate is a gate!"

4 Rota
Forest


"Why the hell are we here?" asked Kuribayashi in such a virulent tone that if listening to it was poisonous, death would be instantaneous. Hardly surprising, for her summer uniform she had a borrowed coat from the Prussians. Her winter ear cap with a military eagle on it that is a black eagle holding a sword in a human hand and gloves that were a size too big were also borrowed.

"We are conducting reconnaissance beyond the Gate." replied Itami succinctly completely unfazed by the tone of his subordinate.

"But probably not for this one!" growled Shino

Itami shrugged him shoulders "A gate is a gate." Shino waited a moment to see if Itami was trying to add something but to her disappointment for her commander it was an exhaustive answer. Annoyed, she growled something inarticulate and began to stare at the clearing in front of her.

Sitting with them, one of the Prussians from the neighboring team giggled then said something in German to his colleagues. The rest of the team burst out laughing after a while.

"And what does he say!" growled an angry and frozen Shino, the coat as well as the gloves too big hardly surprising, the only copies the Prussian quartermaster had were men's and in the army of the Commonwealth women are almost non-existent and if they are, they perform auxiliary roles away from the front.

"He tells you to cool down and take the example of your commander who is stoic about new developments." Itami said.

"How do you know?" quipped Shino

"I'm ranting." said Itami easily while keeping a serious face. Shino with all her willpower refrained from bashing her superior. And given that we are talking about Kuribayashi here, we know for obvious reason that it would not be a light blow.

Fortunately for the good relations in the Third Reconnaissance Squad, they heard shouts in an unfamiliar language and a distant thud against the frozen and snow-covered ground. The whirring of engines could be heard far in the background behind them.

"They're coming!" cried Kurata first, the Japanese squad quickly went into readiness. Everyone checked their weapons in anticipation of possible danger. Officially, they were sent on a reconnaissance mission beyond the Polish Gate, they were to get a look at the Poles in action, get to know nominally the Roderius Continent before returning and reporting back to the command in the Special Region.

Another less official mission was simply to help defend this side of the Polish Gate, the command of the 1st Marine Division sent an unofficial request for Japanese assistance on their side of the Gate, the force of natives in the area was huge and the Prussians too few to fulfill all tasks.

General Hazama agreed to this unofficial request and sent a few troops to help. The rationale for this action was obviously to ensure the safety of Ginza, the Lourians may not be Saderians, no less if they discovered the Gate and broke through the Polish defenses they could threaten the defense of the Japanese beachhead in the Special Region.

Thus, Itami's unit was between the Prussians of the 4th Rota and right next to it stood the second Post of Captain Mutig the same one he met at the very beginning. And the soldier who first giggled was, of course, Florian Tenner.

Despite appearances, Itami guessed quite well what Tenner said, although the man himself put it in much less pleasant terms. He grumbled a bit about the very meaning of women in the army and especially in line positions before he prepared to defend himself along with the rest.

As soon as a significant number of those fleeing were more or less in the middle of the road to the forest, the ambush was set in motion. The first to go were the concussion grenades fired from grenade launchers, and after a while flares were fired. The surprise for those fleeing was total.

Before they knew what was happening a rifle salvo rang out, and a moment later 33TPs jumped out from behind a hill which began to cover Lourian with fire. How much time had passed since the opening of fire no one knew, for many the shooting had barely begun and the order to cease fire was already going through the ranks.

The last squad to carry out the order was Itami's squad, which, due to the language barrier, reacted the latest.

"What's going on?" asked Shino, surprised to see that she hadn't even changed the magazine. A quick glance allowed her to determine that she had about a third of the cartridges left.

"The Lourians have surrendered." Kurata explained.

"So fast? The Saderians marched to their death and these guys marched right away!"

"Well, the Saderians have not been maneuvered by us before and these ones have. The Poles made them run all the time." explained Itami to his subordinate.

"Really?" quipped Shino

"Yes, I saw everything on Topaz all the time. The Poles forced them to dance after which the enemy had to surrender."

"Dance?" this time Kurata quipped.

"Yes, a dance. It's harder to describe their maneuvering other than as dancing. They twirled around, going forward, then backward, and except for their designated places, they did not stay still. The Lourians must have been exhausted by this for an obvious reason." explained his observations to Itami

"Why did they do it?" asked Shino

"Because they are in a hurry and they need ammunition elsewhere, under some Gim where fierce fighting is going on." replied Itami

Shino furrowed her brow "Then they can't just bring her..." she paused when she remembered a thing. "Well yes, they have a very long way home! They don't have a city outside the Gate like we do!"

"That's right." agreed Itami "And now the best thing, we got new orders. We're going to Gim. The job here is finished, a large part of the Lourians have already surrendered."

"What about the rest?" asked Kurata

Here Kuwahara interjected, "The rest will either be caught by Poles and Natives or..."

"Or?" entered Kurata's words.

"Or they'll just flee." Kuwahara concluded

At the same time
Southern H
ighway

"The dog was fucking it," growled Adem "Free passage, fuck me. They won't get you because there aren't enough of them, motherfucker. And fuck your cockiness, the cockiness came out of it and not free passage. The whole army has gone to fuck, yet I won't just go home. What is a general who escaped with his life and while his army did not?"

Meanwhile, the sun slowly stood over the world, heralding another morning. Slowly the sunlight showed the scale of the destruction far in the distance. Adem, meanwhile, rode alone on horseback, by what miracle he got out of the carnage he himself had no idea. As soon as the enemy focused elsewhere, he moved with his staff to what he thought was a safe place.

He thought wrongly, they had barely set up again to continue coordinating units and something peppered his staff. When he woke up, it turned out that he was lying alive a few dozen meters from where the staff had been. In turn, where the staff had been, there was a hole and the remains of his subordinates were scattered around.

Seeing this, Adem, driven more by emotion than reason, simply took his feet by the waist. And when the fear began to subside, he started getting angry and cursing everything he could. Somewhere he found a lost horse that somehow miraculously survived while its master did not, got on it and headed ahead towards Louria.

"Well, it happened. Now you have to think how to keep your head here." began to ponder Adem, not yet realizing what would befall him. But that's a story for another future occasion.

Empire of Parpaldia
March 15, 1640 Year of the Central Calendar.
Esthirant
Imperial Palace


Nervous silence reigned in the office of His Imperial Highness Ludius VI. The Emperor himself was sitting in his comfortable chair behind his desk reading unabashedly a very long report on what was happening on the front in distant Roderius.
So far, the Lourians have been banging their heads against the wall, with three armies already lost, two more being wiped out, and one completely lost in time and space.

Everyone in the Imperial Palace as well as outside it in the upper echelons knew about the quiet fury that Ludius had been exuding for over a week. A certain annoying barbarian king called Harek had successfully played on His Imperial Majesty's nose and thrust the Empire into a war with Poland.

They had to answer, it was a matter of Parpaldian prestige as well as its reputation! If they showed weakness in the face of Polish actions then very soon any collaborations with the Parpaldians which the rulers of the conquered lands had undertaken in the hope of preserving the rest of their people would be called into question.

For if Poland can attack Louria with impunity, force the Empire to withdraw from its junior partner and protectorate. Then why can't Poland exactly help them to regain their independence, or worse, become an ally within the Anti-Parpadian coalition?

At the same time, it would not even have to take a direct part in the war in such a scenario! If you take the fact that the Poles began to sell their weapons to these savages from eastern Roderius their weapons without a problem unlike the Nipponese. It would be enough for the coalition to come with a shopping list to Poland. As well as they opened up to Polish and Nipponese companies. Very quickly from a desperate coalition defending itself against Parpaldia, they would become its oppressors.

Had he not reacted, Parpaldia's fate would have been sealed. Parpaldia's neighbors would have very quickly taken advantage of this weakness by seeking protection from Poland. This one, of course, would have accepted the offer and Parpaldia would very quickly have been surrounded by enemies and increasingly nervous. He is absolutely certain that in such a scenario, the voices demanding a bloody crackdown on Poland and, above all, its neighbors would gain a majority forcing him to unleash some kind of war.

He does not know, maybe some kind of special military operation in a neighboring country such as Riem. Aimed at stopping the escape of Riem to the Polish sphere of influence which will obviously end in defeat and loss of all reputation for Parpaldia and thus the possibility of national liberation uprisings that will only kill the Empire.

The effect of this black scenario is also that, in such a situation, Parpaldia would not act as it does now, as a stabilizing factor in the fracture of international stability, but as the one that just shatters that order.

Going to war now, even if defeat is certain will be much less of a blow to Parpaldia for it acts as a defender of the order, even if non-ideal and geared under profit for the Empire. But nevertheless known and tolerated, and its defense is now more understandable than in the black scenario of an isolated Parpaldia.

Of course, this is not Ludius' dream scenario, a dream scenario is one that most likely would have come true had it not, an unexpected Black Swan in the form of those accursed Saderians.

Namely, he assumed that, Parpaldia would introduce Poland and Nippon to this world while trying to divide the cake in such a way that Parpaldia could, with the help of these two new players, upgrade itself to be a third major player. Louria would most likely end up handed on a silver platter for this Commonwealth, as an act of goodwill on the part of the Empire wanting to keep the peace in the third zone of civilization. That's why he sent his trusted man, Daemones Centius who was to untangle the now stubborn protectorate agreement with Louria.

In this way, he wanted, with the obvious farewell to the possibility of unifying the continent, to preserve what the Parpaldians had already conquered. Unfortunately, these damned savages from an unknown land had to arrive just then, in a time of wartime tension, and lead to the outbreak of war with their idiotic behavior.

Causing this bomb still designed by his father and inherited from him to explode in his face. Hardly a fun and pleasant thing to do. Add to this that Ludius is not blind, and he could well see how Hark was aiming from the very beginning of this unsuccessful brawl for Parpaldia to take part in it too.

It's hard not to be angry all the time, especially since this lengthy report confirmed his assumptions. No one in the third zone had absolutely no chance against Poland. He cursed those Saderians in spirit, wishing they also had a taste of Polish Military Technology. Make them pay for the mess they unleashed here.

Fortunately, this war had one very useful plus for Ludius. Ever since he realized the power of the two new players, he had been wondering how to eliminate the problem of the more blunt part of the officer and diplomatic corps who were raring to line up with the new "barbarians." It was impossible to explain to them that both new neighbors in the region are very dangerous.
That they should not be given an excuse to forcibly remodel the international order.

He was afraid of expansionists, yes he had so far used them happily because they were a useful prop for his regime but like any good ruler. He didn't keep all the mushrooms in one basket. That way he could always have a margin for error and back out of a catastrophic path before it was too late. And when it became apparent that a world change was imminent for the Third Zone, he immediately began using the other side of the political argument to prepare the Empire for the change.

The only problem was precisely in getting rid of the politically inconvenient ones, who apparently didn't get the memo that the political winds had changed. Of course, Ludius was not without regrets in abandoning his plan to pacify Altaras, that damned island had been getting in the Empire's way for too long. He himself, moreover, from his teenage years, after a certain history lesson, had begun to float plans to eradicate this problem, hence he had a fondness for this devised plan.

What is different is the plan with the subjugation of Roderius by means of Louria, this one no longer had such a charge of sentiment. Not surprisingly, it was his "beloved" father's plan to cut off Altaras from resources by eliminating its allies on Roderius.

Ludius himself rather preferred to simply build a powerful fleet to overwhelm the defenders with its mass, but since the plan had already been working for many years and quite well, why not use it to weaken Altaras?

But this is not the time to reminisce about plans from two years ago, funny how one event can make what was not so long ago now sound like the distant past. Ludius smiled slightly at this thought, then immediately became serious and turned to his Supreme Commander Arde Gaius.

"How is our Expeditionary Force? Are they ready to march out?"

Arde reacted sluggishly, the poor man thought, Ludius had to switch overnight from being Commander-in-Chief of the Third Zone's most powerful army to being Commander-in-Chief of the most numerous army and nothing more. He had the opportunity to be invited by the Poles as an observer to the Donskoye Hetmanate, the Commonwealth's huge military training ground, for military maneuvers.

After what he saw there, he returned heartbroken as well as horrified. From being one of the proponents of showing the place to the Poles, he had become the biggest proponent of avoiding war with them. And now his worst nightmare was coming true. Normally Ludius would have fired him, but in such a state he was much easier to control and the army now was the least of his worries. He is happy to "get rid" of some of the "unnecessary" soldiers.

"Yes, your majesty. Field Marshal Edgardius Preator says he can leave at any time."

This was the first good news for Ludius in days. Exceedingly quickly, the army reorganized to give a kick up the ass to the Poles for meddling in affairs that were not theirs. Ludius didn't even have to "help" move known supporters of the war against Poland into the expeditionary force.

Almost everyone volunteered to be transferred with their units. Everyone wanted to punish the Poles for meddling in affairs that were not theirs.
Not hardly surprising, Marshal Edgardius was extremely popular in the army and his opinion that he would reach Warsaw in a week was widely known. He was even the main icon around whom all expansionist circles organized.

A lesser known fact is that he began to consider Ludius a cowardly weakling, after the latter did not try to enter a collision course with the new "barbarians." From what Ludius has heard Edgardius secretly dreams of the Imperial Crown and considers this war an opportunity to be able to get it.

In fact, this would not be the first time in the history of the Empire where an ambitious military commander, after a great triumph over a considered invincible opponent, comes to the capital to overthrow the cowardly Emperor.

Unfortunately for Edgdius, Ludius always set the deck under himself. There was no way this scenario would come true. At best, the Marshal would return to the Fatherland in disgrace, for letting himself be captured as well as destroying a large part of the Imperial army.

Of course, Ludius in such a scenario will do everything to break the Preator family and their supporters, because after all, he expected victory for the Empire. After all, the Emperor would not send the Marshal and the core of the Imperial Army to certain death, right?

Commonwealth
Crown of the Kingdom of Poland


Poland, a country widely regarded as one that constantly disappears and reappears, or at least in our world. This is not true, if Poland had disappeared from the maps so often, it would simply never have made it to our time. It would have shared the fate of many other extinct peoples, and yet despite what has been done over the past three centuries to erase Polishness, it has not succeeded.

In fact, this famous disappearance from the maps, only to be immediately reborn like a phoenix from the ashes is a myth, yes supported by a few events, but still a myth. To be more precise, Poland disappeared three times, in the 13th century, 18th century and 20th century. Broadening the definition of "disappearance", one can add one more event, the collapse of the first Piast monarchy in the 11th century, but that was short-lived and was more a breakdown of the existing structure pressed from outside and inside than a disappearance.

Broadening the definition even further, you can add two events from the 19th century, the abolition of the Duchy of Warsaw, a hulking Polish state that was a puppet of Napoleonic France, and the abolition of the autonomous Congress Kingdom, which had been in a real union with Russia since 1815. The latter, depending on who you ask, took place either in 1831 after the fall of the
November Uprising or in 1864 after the fall of the January Uprising.

This brings the total using a very loose approach to about six erasures of Poland from the maps. You could say that's quite a lot, on the other hand how many peoples were able to recover from even one such attempt?

Nonetheless, it can be noted that the interval between the events, leaving aside the period commonly accepted that Poland was de facto not on the maps despite de jure saying otherwise, is about a hundred years between two close ones separated by more than four hundred years of continuous statehood.

Moreover, the time without a state of its own is in round numbers a hundred years before Poland returns. Given that the history of Poland is about a thousand years, plus or minus a thousand years should add another century, but since the only evidence claiming this can only be found in the ground does not count as "official" history, this means that of the thousand years only two hundred years were without a Polish state on the maps.

Pretty good for someone who keeps "disappearing" and coming back.

But this is the history of Poland as we know it, the one that was cruelly carried away by fate, the one that was brutally tortured, the one that was tried to be erased from the maps and that twice forever, that is after the partitions in which Prussia, Austria and Russia agreed among themselves that henceforth the title of the Polish Kingdom was to be erased fortunately they did not succeed, and a more widely known example from the 20th century that probably does not need to be presented.

That is, what this "SuperPoland" has not experienced, nor has anyone even tried to do so. Hardly surprising, after all we are talking about a power comparable to the United States. Realizing what Russia could have been, but fortunately for the Poles it collapsed before it became that threat thanks, of course, to the help of the intelligence of Imperial Germany who planted Lenin with his disease called communism.

This is not a mistake, Tsarist Russia before World War I was what China is to us today, the fastest growing country in the world with the potential to dominate it through development alone. The Germans themselves were seriously afraid of Russia, only World War I stopped this process, first the war turmoil took away Russia's best developed areas of the Empire undercutting the oxygen of the rest of the Empire, then the murderous war effort brought it to the brink of collapse.

All it took was a slight push for this to happen, and it did. The surprise February Revolution overthrew the unpopular Tsar, which obviously exacerbated the chaos, thus the Provisional Government accomplished the impossible and became so unpopular that when the Bolsheviks with a small force actually staged a coup, no one defended the government despite the fact that the government forces in St. Petersburg had a crushing advantage in everything but determination over Lenin and his gang.

This, of course, gave the October Revolution beginning the inexorable end of Russia, communism ditched the former Russian Empire, took the best out of what it had in the name of a worldwide communist revolution. Unfortunately for the Soviets and fortunately for the rest of the world, socialism, introduced as an "intermediate" stage and in reality as a desperate attempt to prolong the agony of the former Empire, finally accomplished what communism was supposed to do in a few years at most. It destroyed the country in which it was introduced, and the dream of Hegemony disappeared leaving the Nations devastated by the Union, led by the Russian Nation which rolled to the lowest stage of collapse.

Today we see the latest act of this in Ukraine, where the Russians are singing their swan song.
But this is our world, in the world of Super Poland called the Commonwealth nothing of this catastrophe happened. What's more, there is not even such a thing as Russia, there is instead Ruthenia, the real Ruthenia.

This Ruthenia is, of course, divided into the Grand Duchy of Moscow, the closest counterpart to Russia as we know it, although it differs sharply from it, in a positive way. The Principality of Belarus, which is a condominium of Lithuania and Moscow, and contrary to our habits this Principality lies not where we know it, but where Russia is today. More precisely, in the area called by Poles the Smolensk Gate, that is, the area where the Dźwina (Dvina) and the Dniepr (Dnieper) have their sources but which do not directly connect, forming a narrow strip of land between the rivers and, incidentally, the only route in Eastern Europe allowing without crossing the rivers to get to Russia/Moscow.

The capital of this Gate, in accordance with its name, is Smoleńsk, which also serves as the capital of the Principality. In the old days, most of the Polish-Moscow wars were fought over this very city and this region, for whoever controls Smoleńsk de facto controls the lands between the Baltic and the Black Sea.

The third country is the Grand Duchy of Ruthenia, the equivalent of what we know as Ukraine. While it is much further east than Ukraine, what we know as Western Ukraine is part of the Polish Crown, i.e. those lands belonging to the Red Ruthenia and inherited by Casimir III the Great in the 14th century.

The westernmost major city is not until Żytomierz (Zhytomyr), which is somewhere in the center of our Ukraine. What we know as Chersoń (Kherson) they call Bilchowicze and is the main port city of Ruthenia, further east directly on the Dniepr we have Sicz the capital of the Dzikie Pola (Wild Fields) or autonomous part of Ruthenia where the Zaporozhian Cossacks who form an extremely militarized society rule.

Moreover, both cities i.e. Bilchowicze (Bilchovichi) and Sicz (Sich) are also border towns, south of the Dniepr River the Crimean Khanate begins and the river itself is the internal border of the Commonwealth. With the Crimean-Ruthenian border mostly ironically coinciding with the course of the line of the southern Ukrainian-Russian front as of January 2023. Bakhmut itself is a border town with Crimea.

Further north we have Charków (Kharkov) which here is not a border city, moreover, it is the easternmost large city of Central Ruthenia! The last big cities are Czernichów (Chernihiv) which is also not as close to the border as the Ukrainian one, and Kursk and Woroneż (Voronezh) lying some two hundred kilometers from the Ruthenian-Moscow border.

The last Ruthenia state, or at least by virtue of the fact that most of its territory is Ruthenia, is Lithuania. It occupies virtually all of the territory of known Belarus aka White Ruthenia, which obviously makes it more Ruthenia than a Baltic state.
That's the way it is, Lithuanian, true Lithuanian is extinct, only remnants have survived in remote civilizations. Everywhere else, Polish or Ruthenian is spoken. Of the Lithuanian remnants, only single words and an accent remain, distinguishing Lithuanians from the rest of the Poles. At the same time, the Ruthenians in Lithuania are more Polonized than elsewhere. Their language sounds more like a dialect of Polish than Ruthenian, even the alphabet is taken from Polish.

Although only Muscovites can boast that they speak an independent language, and not relegated to the level of a dialect or semi-dialect of Polish. Despite this, it seems to be only a matter of time until the last of the Russian languages will also be degraded like Kashubian to the level of a dialect.

But let's leave that, let's return to the Crown, to this Poland proper.

This one, thanks to much better decisions made by the Polish Kings, avoided most of the misfortunes of known Poland. Prussia was never let out of the hands of the Prussians, moreover, at the request of the Prussians themselves, the tragedy of the Swedish Deluge or the Chmielnicki uprising never occurred. Because of which, instead of boasting three hundred years without hostilities on its territory, the Crown was able to add another two hundred to the Revolutionary Wars fought in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

Which, of course, greatly benefited the development of the area.

Administratively, the Crown is divided into five provinces, these provinces signify the legal and administrative division of the Kingdom. That is, to put it in human terms, each province has its own exclusively dedicated statutes or sets of laws. For the most part, they reflect the fact that Poland consists of several parts annexed at different times and thus having laws evolved in a different direction. More precisely, they have their origin in the Polish feudal split, which over time was consolidated as an administrative division.

These five provinces are Greater Poland, Lesser Poland, Silesia, Pomerania and Madagascar. The first two, contrary to expectations, are much larger than the geographic land, Greater Poland consists of Prussia, Mazovia and Kuyavia in addition to Greater Poland proper.

In addition to the usual Małopolska, Małopolska also includes Red Ruthenia, and the land of Lublin.

Silesia, only annexed in the 20th century, consists of 25 provinces that before the annexation were Silesian principalities and an additional two in the New March.

Pomerania, on the other hand, encompasses the entire land of that name, that is, both the Front part lying in our Poland and the Back part lying in Germany.

Madagascar, on the other hand, is a strange province, consisting of course only of the island of that name, formally it is an Autonomous Crown Colony, although compared to many other Crown colonies, it does not have de facto more autonomy than an ordinary province. Madagascar is the result of a personal union turned into a real one, as Ranavalona III married the Polish electoral king Władyslaw V Czartoryski in an attempt to protect Madagascar from the more ambitious colonial powers. Mainly France sharpening its teeth on the island.

In a somewhat surprising way, history came full circle, Ranavalona herself was chosen from the local nobility to be the ruler, she pulled (at the insistence of the local nobility) to the political advantage of the ruler of another country as her husband to thus create a strong alliance that eventually became a union. To complete the irony, Ranavalona converted to Catholicism from Protestantism by taking the name Jadwiga.

In this way, the ruling stratum of Madagascar accidentally repeated what Poland did in the 13th century by pulling the Jagiellons to the throne. At the same time, it should be noted that the Czartoryskis are cousins of the Jagiellons; Ladislaus II Jagiello himself was the cousin of the founder of the family, Konstantin Czartoryski.

The result of this history is its dual status as a Crown Colony for formality as well as a direct part of the Polish Crown. All other colonies are an independent entity.

Madagascar itself came with other colonies to this world, being the southernmost part of the Commonwealth. It was located far from what was known as the civilized part of the world. Not far from the island is a continent ignored by the local powers, it was too far away for anyone to be interested in conquering it. In the absence of a name, the Poles called it Lechia.

Another colony was the Morska Wolna (Maritime Will), a piece of Brazil bought from Portugal in the 19th century. This colony was located in the southern part of Brazil near the border with Argentina and was the source of all kinds of exotic fruits and vegetables. Although the main specialty is chocolate, all the respected Corporations headed by the Fabryka Czekolady E. Wendel (E. Wendel Chocolate Factory) that produce candy have plantations there or import it from the locals.

Like Cameroon, the Morska Wolna was annexed to the continent but not Roderius but the one to the west of it, Westal called Sarmatia by the Poles. While Lechia remains rather in the sphere of interest of the Madagascans themselves, Sarmatia is being considered as a continent to be colonized by almost everyone in the Commonwealth.

The last Crown Colonies are Dalian which is a Polish Hong Kong by the Poles called Dalekie, this region is known thanks to Port Arthur located to the west the former base of the Russian Imperial Navy, although the Poles themselves called it Nowy Gdańsk (New Danzig) and like Port Arthur it is a base of the Navy only that Crown.

And, of course, the Crown Colony of Alaska which, contrary to what we know by this term, occupies the area of Alaska, almost half of Canada up to the city of Regina, and the American states of Washington, Montana which by Poles are respectively called Nowa Polska, and the Gória and northern part of the state of Idaho which is, of course, here divided among neighbors.
Alaska itself, on the other hand, is right next to unknown land, which, for obvious reasons, that is, important matters to the west of the Empire i.e. right under its nose constitutes Terra Incognita for the time being. This is not much of a problem, as the entire former border with the Union of American Workers' Republic is fortified and heavily militarized. Anything trying to get into Alaska would have to pass through a killing field.

Therefore, His Majesty Witold II, for the time being, could deal with more pressing and attention-demanding matters.

Such as this one.

Wawel Royal Castle
Kraków


Witold loved Wawel, it was spacious, opulent and you could feel the history of the old ages of the Commonwealth and its golden era of the 16th century. And the fact that it was not located next to one of the city's main thoroughfares, like the Royal Castle in Warsaw, was also an advantage.

Well, and most importantly, he didn't have to deal here with the deputies of the Sejm of the Commonwealth whose permanent seat of session is precisely the Warsaw Royal Castle. In Cracow, which, although it is the real capital of the Crown, the Crown Sejm does not hold its sessions, instead, in accordance with tradition, it meets wherever it wants, although these are mainly Radom, Piotrków, Toruń, Lublin, Sandomierz, Bydgoszcz, Parczew and from time to time Warsaw, i.e. cities where the Sejm traditionally met.

At the same time it should be added that the Sejm literally convenes, because it is not constantly working like the modern parliaments we know, but convenes from time to time, usually once every two years, or in important matters such as the Transfer and the War on Roderius, which required the convening of a General Assembly to discuss the situation and agree on a common direction of march. Of course, the King was not obliged in such a case to follow the instructions of the Sejm, they were not binding on him because they were not law.

A side effect of this solution, of course, is that there is no epidemic of lawmaking, because deputies do not feel that they have to necessarily show that they are working by passing some new, often dumb law. If a new law was going to be passed, the groundwork was laid before the Sejm convened, which was often a poll of public opinion as to whether there was support or not, as well as a way to see if a new law was so necessary.
Kings, by definition, preferred to convene the Sejm as infrequently as possible, for many times it turned into a grubby brawl between deputies from different provinces as well as a litany of wishes against the ruler. For it should be remembered that although the Sejm tried to usurp executive power many times, real executive power all the time belonged to the King and the Senat (Senate) supporting him.

What, in turn, was the Senat? In a nutshell, it is the Polish equivalent of the House of Lords acting as an advisory council and the Sejm when necessary, thus bypassing the Sejm in governing, allowing in critical situations such as the first days after the transfer to act instantly without waiting for the Sejm to convene, for the Senat was permanent and more than 28 senators were always to be on hand for the King.

Officially, these 28 were supposed to keep an eye on the ruler on behalf of the Sejm to ensure that he did not exceed the powers given to him by the Sejm, in practice, all this did was to increase the number of advisors and appointees of the King.
The Senat consisted of all governors, bishops, ministers and castellans throughout the Commonwealth. And given that, except for the Bishops, all the others are appointed by the King personally, this made the Senat always loyal to the monarch and acting in accordance with his wishes.

And here it is necessary to interject my three cents, contrary to the mistaken association, Poland even as an anarchist Commonwealth was a very centralized state when it came to administration. There were never elections or succession of positions from father to son, each time everyone was appointed personally by the king. Hence the lack of an analogous noble/aristocratic hierarchy as in the West, for there was no way to create one since there was a full-fledged civil-military administration!

That's why there are no counts or dukes and all the attendant entourage, since the Polish equivalents, that is, by analogy, castellans/starosts and voivods, were always appointed top-down and never managed to become independent of the monarch as happened in the West. Ironically, this authoritarian approach was the reason for the strongly egalitarian relations of the nobility in the Crown of the Kingdom of Poland.
And this strange mixture of authoritarianism and democracy became the foundation of the Polish system which continues to this day and Witold takes full advantage. For as long as he is within the limits of the law, he can do what he wants and the Sejm has nothing to do with it.

Hence, if he wants to officiate from Kraków, as long as he arrives for six weeks in Warsaw and Grodno for the biennial Great Sejm of the Commonwealth, he can do so despite the fact that the deputies dislike this behavior of Witold very much, especially those from the east because it means that they have to travel really far to see the ruler.
Which, of course, for Witold was a plus in itself because it sifted out those who want to poison his life from those who came with viable proposals. This was also the case now.

To Witold came a young Field Hetman from Alaszka (Alashka) or Teodor Rózwelt according to the Polish notation, in fact he is Theodore VI Roosevelt, great-grandson of the famous Teddy Roosevelt British-American politician who fought against the Communists as part of the New Continental Army during the American Revolution. When defeat seemed inevitable for White Americans, as all Non-Communists fighting in Old British America were commonly called, he gathered the surviving forces that had failed to flee to Newfoundland and broke through half a continent toward Polish Alaska and the territories occupied after the outbreak of the Communist Revolution.

There he eventually settled with his family and all the other refugees, creating a unique English-speaking enclave in the Commonwealth. These Free Americans, as they commonly refer to themselves, living on Poland's most dangerous border constituting the first line of defense against the communist invasion.

Teodor himself, who in many ways appears to be a copy of his famous great-grandfather Teddy, was the officer commanding the 101st Airborne Legion. Learning of the Parpaldian "problem," he came forward with a daring plan for an air assault on Esthirant to end the war in one blow.

"So you say your boys are enough to force Parpaldia to make peace?" said Witold getting up from behind his desk.

"Yes, Your Majesty. This is an operation that 101 has been preparing for for decades. In this way we will avoid unnecessary destruction, costs and deaths. At the same time, we will make it clear to the Parpaldians that we are playing in a completely different league from them." said Teodor without hesitation.

"I have the whole plan here in a folder." he punctuated his statement by pulling out a folder from behind his pocket. "This is the result of the work of my staff people over the past weeks."

Witold nodded his head appreciatively taking the folder from the Hetman's hands though he couldn't resist adding. "I'm guessing that you and your staffers have been bored for the past few months." He was referring to the fact that the Supreme Command had ordered troops in Alaska to hold the line instead of trying to penetrate a new unknown area.

Teodor slowly nodded, "Well, what can we do, Your Majesty, after all, for now, apart from the new frontier, we know nothing about these lands further. And yet it's a bit of a shame to sit on our asses like this and wait."

"I agree," replied Witold, reviewing the contents of the documents he had brought. The plan was not overly complicated, requiring only the transfer of the 101st Legion to any carrier from which they could take off with their equipment, drop on Esthirant and take the city with a decisive attack.

He had to admit that the 101st staffers had done their homework, they gave various possible options from where they could be dropped such as Altaras, Okinawa, Que-Toyne or even an aircraft carrier, attack locations and how many necessary forces would be needed for a given location. They also calculated the necessary supplies and air support.

But it wasn't the elaborate plan that made Witold happy, but rather the confidence and goal-orientation displayed by Rózwelt himself, and he felt the same in the plan itself as well. The plan itself was somehow not new, he had seen similar ones at the General Staff where the premise of Operation Imminent Storm as the plan for the war against Parpaldia was being developed.

"Good, very good." began Witold finishing the reading "You want to test yourself in action? Go ahead, I will present it at the next meeting of the Supreme Command. You can be sure that you and your 101st will go on the spearhead." Rózwelt smiled

"And if God grants," the King added after a moment, "the premise of your operation will be fulfilled."

Rózwelt hoped so, too, although he could not help the strange feeling that some quiet voice said in the background, "It will come true."
 
Last edited:
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
Great chapter,as always.I hope that you deliver polish-prussian husbando for Shino now ! :)
 
Parpaldian Pogrom

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
March 18, 1640, Central Calendar
RNV Praeclarus
Altaras Strait


Field Marshal Edgardius Preator strutted like a peacock. His army set out for a swift war, a war in which he would show those savages from... what was the name of that wretched country? Ah, Louria. Preator would show those savages what the art of war truly meant.

A bunch of inept imbeciles, the only thing they excelled at was banging their heads against the wall. He would show them how to break through those Poles.

Speaking of Poles, finally a worthy enemy. An enemy that his cowardly Emperor feared. For Preator, it was a good sign. According to the old Parpaldian principle, an Emperor who is incompetent or weak must step aside. How? It didn't matter, although the most popular method was a simple military coup, which is what Preator wanted to achieve through the war with Poland.

He didn't understand why Supreme Commander Arde was so frightened. Flying machines, steel dragons spewing fire, is that something they're unfamiliar with? They are just airplanes, tanks, or mechs. Infantry armed with machine guns? They are simply heavy machine guns! They know all of this from the West. Nothing new, and they even have prepared plans and appropriate spells in case of war with them.

Implementing them against Poland should be sufficient! What's the problem? Well, Preator concluded, Arde apparently needs to be hanged like an ordinary murderer. That's how it ends for an officer who is unfit for his role. A Parpaldian officer must be proud, serious, and above all, maintain composure regardless of the situation.

Speaking of composure, Preator looked at General Cius, a man so cold and detached from people. If it weren't for the fact that he is frighteningly pragmatic, he would probably send thousands to their deaths without hesitation just to capture any position. Fortunately for his subordinates, he adhered to the principle of pragmatism taken to the extreme, which meant achieving the greatest effect with the least effort and losses. Mass slaughter in the name of gaining any position is not his style, and pragmatism has as much in common with him as a chair with an electric chair.

Not that he had a problem with sending people to certain death or issuing the infamous order of decimation to restore discipline in the ranks. However, he did so rarely and only when other choices resulted in significantly worse overall outcomes.

Preator suspected that only a serious psychological shock would turn him into a complete lunatic.

"General Cius," he called out to his subordinate, who turned towards him.

"Yes, my lord?" Cius asked in an icy tone.

"We have beautiful weather today, don't we?"

Cius raised an eyebrow slightly but quickly returned to his grim expression. "Indeed, Marshal Preator."

"Exactly," nodded the Marshal. "Thanks to it, we will be able to spot the enemy fleet from afar."

Cius silently nodded his head. "You're right, Marshal, you're absolutely right," he added after a moment when he turned back forward and slightly raised his head. "It's particularly useful that the sky is exceptionally clear."

"What do you mean?" Preator was surprised, but the general simply gestured upward with his hand. The Marshal followed the gesture and shivered. High in the distance, thanks to the lack of clouds, several dozen airplanes could be seen.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of the bridge crew. The Marshal cleared his throat. "Nothing, gentlemen, carry on with your work," he reassured them.

Once the sailors resumed their tasks under the stern gaze of their Superior, he whispered to Cius, "What the hell, it's impossible for any aircraft to fly so far and so high."

"Apparently, the impossible has become possible," Cius replied without delay.

Marshal Preator didn't want to agree with him at that moment, but the problem was that reality didn't care about his desires, as he was about to find out. But that's the story of another man, a man who accidentally saved Parpaldia from a civil war and died without ever knowing it.

Who was he?

Captain of the OKP Kaszub. A small and modernized prototype corvette of the Kaszub class. His name was Michał Głuś, and to Altaras, he remains a hero to this day, the one who saved their island from invasion. You see, the first stop of the Expeditionary Army on its way to Preator's rise to power, against the will of Emperor Ludius, was supposed to be Altaras.

Why? To have a forward base in both the civil war and the first triumph that would honor his head.

March 18, 2021, Anno Domini
OKP Kaszub
Altaras Strait


"How many contacts do we have on the radar?" asked the commander of the corvette, Captain Michał Głuś. He was an older man, in the prime of his life. He still lacked the title of a grandfather, but his best years were already behind him. Kaszub was supposed to be his final assignment before retiring, mainly returning to his family estate to engage in agriculture, as befitting a nobleman. Although Polish nobility rarely enlisted in the navy, mainly comprising townspeople, it should be noted that in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, it was relatively easy to become a nobleman. So easy that over 32% of the current population is of noble status. Of course, provided you want to.

"Over four hundred!" replied radar operator Andrzej Tworek, a Petty Officer, greatly surprised by the number of enemies.

"Don't bullshit me," spoke up the deputy commander of Kaszub, Deputy Bartłomiej Farbiś, a peasant by origin, which matters in the social structure of the Commonwealth, which is still a class-based society, although not in the stereotypical sense of the word. Nonetheless, this mostly applies to civilian life; in the military, only skills matter.

Although it is a fact that nobles are expected to meet higher requirements in the military compared to other social classes, ironically, it is easier to advance in the military hierarchy coming from any other class except the noble class. There's nothing strange about it because it is a tradition that every Polish noble, upon reaching adulthood (that is, 18 years old), must join the military for a few years, starting as an enlisted soldier. It is believed that the duty of defending the country rests upon Polish knights, as nobles consider themselves to be. If other social classes have to join the military in large numbers, it is a sign that the situation is as dire as during the Revolutionary Wars.

During that time, the situation was indeed dire and, incidentally, it had a revolutionary impact on the nobility. Specifically, it broke the nobles' aversion to serving in the infantry and artillery because the Polish military simply did not need as many cavalrymen as there were nobles. (And it was from that moment that the provisions of the May 3rd Constitution, which extended noble rights to the rest of the nation, finally began to take effect.) It should be known that in old Poland, it was cheaper to recruit cavalry than infantry, which was the complete opposite of the situation in the West!

No wonder, on the vast expanses called steppes, or more precisely the Eurasian Great Steppe, infantry was mainly useful for defending fortresses and cities or attacking them. Apart from these exceptional situations, they were the fifth wheel that cavalry easily overcame.

As a result of this geographical location on the world map and the resulting military traditions, there is paradoxically a strong and positive influence on the navy. Battles on the former Ukrainian steppes, Wild Fields, and along the Great Steppe had much in common with naval warfare on seas and oceans.

Therefore, when the Revolutionary Wars gave birth to the Polish military presence on various maritime waters, it turned out that Poles knew how to fight at sea no worse than on land. Thus, they often gave a hard time to the Revolutionary Navy of France, Germany, and above all, the Netherlands, ironically the main source from which the Commonwealth drew when building its presence on seas and oceans.

The terminology, ship and vessel construction, management style, and command structure were all borrowed from the Dutch, who were brought in as settlers to Poland, giving rise to the Crown Navy and the rest. The Dutch influence can already be seen in the main port of the Commonwealth, Gdańsk. It bears a striking resemblance to Dutch cities.

And let's not forget Arend Dickman, who was a Dutchman in Polish service. It was he who, with the victory at Oliwa over the Swedish fleet, initiated the serious existence of the Crown Navy, demonstrating the usefulness of maritime forces for Poland. Although it was very small until the Revolutionary Wars and relied mainly on two permanent fleets stationed in Gdańsk and Władysławowo, it was supported by so-called privateers, or pirates in the service of the King of Poland.

All of this led to the traditional situation for Polish sailors, where they are often outnumbered by the enemy. Hence, Captain Głuś and his crew were not concerned about the enemy's superiority in terms of vessels, even if they were equally modern. They simply did what is always done in the Crown Navy in such situations.

"No cursing, Farbiś. This is a cultured vessel," Głuś said calmly.

"Oh, so I should speak like the way naval curses are presented in children's fairy tales?" Farbiś began jokingly, ironizing. "Okay, I can do that," he added after a moment, clearing his throat, and started, "To a hundred barrels of salted codfish! They take it seriously!"

The bridge crew involuntarily burst into laughter. Even Głuś succumbed to Farbiś's charm. This allowed everyone to relax and approach the matter more calmly.

"Alright, what's our plan, Captain?" Farbiś asked once everyone had calmed down.

Głuś looked at him silently, then walked over to the navigation table and quickly updated the map, marking the detected enemies on it. Then, with a few more clicks and finger tricks, he laid out the entire plan.

Farbiś examined it before bursting into laughter. "Seriously?" he added incredulously after a moment of disbelief.

"What's wrong?" Głuś replied. "There's no room for fancy tactics here. We'll approach them at the horizon's edge, unleash laser fire until the gun overheats or the battery runs out. Then we retreat beyond the horizon and wait for the gun to cool down or the battery to recharge, and repeat the process until we set the entire fleet on fire."

"What about their dragon mounts? I heard they use some kind of aircraft carriers with dragons instead of planes," Farbiś inquired.

"Just like any other flying target, we'll shoot them down with anti-aircraft guns or Pioruns. Although, we'll probably set those carriers on fire first to cook up that problem right from the start," Głuś replied.

Farbiś nodded, and then teasingly added, "Roasted Dragon Meat, cooked with lasers in a wooden pot. I like this plan." Intrigued, he further remarked, "I wonder what dragon meat tastes like?"

"Probably like lizard meat," one of the sailors on the bridge chimed in.

After some contemplation, Farbiś nodded. After all, dragons were just enormous reptiles, right?

"Alright, enough chit-chat, let's get to work," Captain Głuś said, putting an end to the relaxed atmosphere. The Polish sailors then went about their tasks. Kaszub surged forward, accelerating to its full speed of about 30 knots, heading towards the approaching fleet from the north.

Of course, Głuś himself was unaware of the fleet's true objective. He believed, just like Ludius and the Polish Intelligence, that Marshal Preator was sailing towards Roderius. That was the official goal, but neither Ludius nor the intelligence expected Preator to disobey orders.

The Marshal wasn't so foolish as to walk into a trap willingly. It was his actions that drew the expansionists to his cause, not overzealousness or bravado. He carefully selected the most obvious rebels to lull Emperor Ludius's vigilance. In reality, within the shadows of Parpaldia's capital, Preator's supporters prepared for the triumphant entry of the "future" Emperor.

Ludius believed he had successfully outmaneuvered his recent followers, but it was Preator who set the game in motion from the beginning. Preator had been planning a military coup for many years, believing that Ludius was unfit to be Emperor and desiring power for himself. He was only waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

The conflict that erupted on Roderius and the leniency shown by the Emperor towards the matter was the opportunity Preator had been waiting for.

Firstly, the delicate treatment he extended to the new players could be sensed. Contrary to many of his supporters, Preator understood the essence of the situation. In his youth, when he was a mere non-commissioned officer serving as an aide and servant to his mentor, he was sent to the Center and the Second Zone.

His mentor, Aureliusz Baliseus, was sent as a Military Attaché. The timing was significant as it was during the Fourth Civilization War. Preator himself had the opportunity to witness the birth of airplanes, tanks, mechs, and other technological advancements in warfare. What he saw during that time, on both sides, as Parpaldia barely maintained neutrality towards the warring factions, left a lasting impression in his memory.

For years, he yearned to initiate his own similar projects using the remnants of the Black Sorcerer Empire's military equipment and sought solutions to combat them.

Furthermore, this personal familiarity with modern technology differentiated him from the Supreme Commander, Arde. While the Supreme Commander had only heard secondhand accounts, when Preator learned that Arde had been demoralized after witnessing a demonstration of analogous military equipment in the Commonwealth, it only added to his contempt for Arde and his protector, thanks to whom he had been assigned his role—the Emperor Ludius himself.

Not that Arde lacked basic competence; Ludius was not a complete idiot to appoint a fool as the Supreme Commander when he aimed for conquest. Nevertheless, Preator believed that there were many other more competent individuals for that position, although contrary to appearances, he did not desire it for himself. He considered himself only the ninth person among the top ten best candidates for the role.

Unfortunately, he shared a common trait with the rest of the candidates—he did not kiss Ludius's ass like Arde did. Preator looked at Ludius with severe aversion because Ludius was more concerned about not losing his crown rather than the future of the Empire.

Ironically, fate would have it that the one to overthrow him would be the one who, although also desiring power, initially focused on the fate of the Empire and was willing to relinquish power for a better offer. The problem was that Preator didn't see a better offer, so he would take it for himself rather than give it to the jackals.

At least, that's what Preator believed when planning his coup. Unfortunately, fate can be very malicious to everyone.

Now we come to the second reason why the Marshal saw an opportunity in this—Ludius's withdrawal from the plans to conquer Altaras. To put it succinctly, it was an unpopular move, so Preator concluded that it should be exploited to gain the favor of the elites and the population of the Empire right from the start.

He wanted to show that this war could be used to benefit Parpaldia, to seize Altaras for himself while demonstrating to everyone in Philades that attempting to negotiate with the new players independently would result in punishment.

In this way, Preator aimed to kill two birds with one stone: expose the weakness of the Emperor while ensuring his agents would prevent Ludius from using it for his own purposes and intimidate everyone in the Third Zone.

If Preator wasn't confident in the success of the conquest of Altaras, he would have skipped that step and immediately headed to Roderius to defeat the pretender. In the latter case, although Preator was convinced of victory, he wasn't 100% certain it would succeed. That's why he took over half a million people, four hundred warships, and two thousand transport ships trailing behind the Fleet, along with the best mages with advanced defensive spells and the latest experimental weapons.

In short, he brought with him the New Model Army. If this force were to be used against any of the previous superpowers, Preator believed he had a chance to win. Although there were some shortcomings in the details, thanks to Magic and Biomagic, he would be able to prevail against an army from the time of the First World War in a decisive battle, which was Parpaldia's only hope of repelling the invasion from the West.

The problem was that he never had to face such an army, and what could effectively work against the ships from World War I might not necessarily hold up against the attack of a modern vessel. Unfortunately, Preator did not realize this difference until he saw Polish transport planes flying towards Ethirant.

It was only then that he realized that Poland had been playing in a different league from the very beginning. Unfortunately, the driving force, even of a Great Man, can only be effective when it goes with the flow, not against it. That's when even Napoleon would fall.

Therefore, when the news of the sighting of an enemy ship reached his ears, Preator was terrified. How did it sneak up on them? Madar should have detected every ship before they saw it! And that was true; Madar is capable of detecting any object under one condition—it contains even a trace of magic. If something lacks magic, it remains invisible to Madar, which is not necessarily a disadvantage in Arcadia.

Because, yes, Madar is the cousin of Radar, only it doesn't use radio waves to detect objects but magic. More precisely, it utilizes a series of seeking and sensing spells that emit magical waves into the ether, similar to electromagnetic waves, as magic itself has a structure that closely resembles electricity.

These waves collide with a source of magic, such as an average person, an animal, or a magical device, mutually interacting and creating something that scholars explain to the average person as a firework explosion. The location of the "explosion" is displayed on Madar.

Unfortunately for Parpaldia, the Poles lack magic. Considering that, unlike Milisia, Parpaldia never had to find a way to detect non-magical objects using Madar, they couldn't possibly notice the Poles in an obvious manner. Although this is a significant drawback, it can be compensated for by reversing what needs to be sought, namely through an unnatural non-reaction to magic, as everything essential in Arcadia possesses magic. However, this requires prior research and modification of Madar to have such capabilities, which Parpaldia lacked.

Although Radar is much more versatile, it doesn't mean it dominates over Madar. Madar itself has two incredibly useful advantages over Radar—it is frighteningly precise, much more so than Radar ever was because the only way to deceive it is to make your magic stop reacting to another, which is genuinely challenging as it requires a specialist sorcerer with incredible control over magic.

Another advantage is the absurd simplicity in constructing such a device. Madar is much simpler than Radar to the extent that when the method of building such devices was discovered, knowledge of it quickly became widespread. Such devices are even standard in the most primitive societies of the civilized part of Arkadia. Moreover, even a non-magical nation like Mu is capable of building them on their own.

That's why Preator was terrified by the sudden appearance of the enemy. He had absolutely no idea how the Poles managed to infiltrate them! If someone had told him they hadn't done it at all, he wouldn't have believed it. Nevertheless, although he was aware of the real danger, he remained calm and composed.

Upon sighting the enemy ship, he immediately ordered the vanguard to charge at full power towards the lone enemy vessel. As for the rest of the fleet, considering the firepower with which Mu and Milishiant ships were struck, he ordered them to disperse. Furthermore, he commanded all squadrons of dragon riders to take to the skies immediately. He made sure that the enemy ship did not have a clear field of fire and covered the aircraft carriers with other ships.

Then he watched as the vanguard formation advanced to engage the enemy. Preator had a burning red alert in his mind the entire time because the fact that the lone enemy simply charged at them was unsettling. Where were the other enemy forces? And with what force was this opponent coming that they did not fear a fleet of four hundred ships?

As a result of this chaos, he completely forgot about the Polish planes soaring high in the sky. Only he and General Cius noticed the planes by chance, but shortly after, a real enemy appeared, causing Preator to forget what he had initially wanted to communicate to the radio operator.

In this way, the capital of Parpaldia only learned about the encounter with the enemy at sea, remaining completely unaware of the impending airborne threat. It's no wonder Preator forgot, to be honest.

Shortly thereafter, the lone Pole attacked the vanguard, intentionally luring them closer. The speed at which he eliminated the entire formation horrified Preator, as the defensive spells designed to protect against high-caliber kinetic projectiles didn't even have time to react.

Barely had the Marshal blinked, and one of the ships burst into flames. He blinked again, and four more joined its fate. In less than five minutes, nothing was left of the vanguard.

Preator opened his mouth in shock, but he couldn't say anything. Fortunately, Cius, who had also been stunned, spoke up and voiced what he was thinking.

"What the hell happened?" he barked, surprising the nearby sailors. "How did they wipe them out so quickly?" Cius began to ask himself, "It's impossible. This is the Fleet of the New Model, built to deter the Western empires. Even Milishiant should have taken much longer!"

It should be known that these ships, although resembling sailing vessels from the late 18th and early 19th centuries, have fewer naval artillery pieces than their era counterparts. However, they are powerful enough to damage or even sink a small vessel from World War I. Of course, the price Parpaldia had to pay to achieve this capability was enormous, which is why Ludius reluctantly sent Preator to what seemed like certain death. In the end, he was spectacularly disposing of the main force of the Navy. The remaining ships were comparable to 18th and 19th-century sailboats, rendering Parpaldia practically defenseless against any force other than its own neighbors.

Combat Compartment of the Kaszub

And how did the crew of Kaszuba react? Well, they were no less astonished than the Parpaldians.

"That..." began Laser Gun Operator Seaman Konrad Muzyka, "was incredibly fast."

"It was an execution, Muzyka," his compartment mate, Seaman Mat Michał Feld, responded, terrified.

"Yes... you're right," confirmed Muzyka. He never expected that his first combat action would involve mowing down the enemy's vanguard. He had indeed prepared himself for a confrontation with enemy ships in battle, but he had imagined it to be a war between more or less equal powers.

"Continue the fire!" ordered Chief Petty Officer Jan Beck, the laser gun's operator, providing the gunner with new coordinates. Kaszuba had maneuvered to have a clear shot at new targets.

"Yes, sir," Muzyka replied, concealing his emotions, and once again he began aiming at the enemy ships. As soon as he aligned his sights, using his acquired experience, he fired a short series, although it's hard to speak of series with laser weapons. As soon as a fire erupted, he shifted his aim to the next target.

He continued like this for a while, losing himself in the targeting. It was only a firm grip on his arm that brought him back to reality.

"Cease fire, son. There are no new targets for you," Chief Petty Officer Beck spoke up. Muzyka had the impression that Beck was scared by his lack of emotion when it came to shooting.

"Understood, Chief Petty Officer," Konrad replied, detaching himself from the sight. Instead, he looked at the screen beside him, where there was only a wall of fire visible. Without realizing it, he turned all the visible ships into floating torches. Nevertheless, he didn't feel proud. It wasn't a fight; it was an execution. The enemy didn't even have a chance to react.

"Why the hell did they come here?" Muzyka asked. Nobody bothered to answer him.

RNV Praeclarus

The Praetor looked in shock at the scale of the losses. The vanguard was already sinking, and the nearest ships were ablaze, destined to meet the same fate soon. What's more, even the Praeclarus itself was on fire, with its bow engulfed in flames, and many burning sailors jumping into the water in desperate hope.

"Marshal!" shouted Captain Martinus of the Praeclarus, "You must evacuate!"

"Yes, you're right," the Marshal replied, heading towards the lifeboat. Furious as a bull, General Cius followed behind him. The Praetor noticed that Cius was exerting all his willpower not to curse.

"Hurry, Marshal, get on board!" urged Captain Martinus, pointing to a partially crowded lifeboat.

"Wait!" said the Praetor, who had just regained his presence of mind. "Is the Madio still functioning?" he asked the commanding officer.

"It's working!" responded the radio operator.

"Transmit to all units, break contact and evacuate to Parpaldia on your own. In case of questions, answer that it's the order of Marshal Praetor."

"And what about those stranded in the water?" the captain asked.

The Marshal sighed and slowly replied, "We stay here and wait for the Poles to capture us."

The captain fell silent; he knew well how difficult it was for the Marshal to say those words. To become a captive was one of the most shameful things a Parpaldian could do. Yes, it happened sometimes, but for any officer, it meant the end of their career. For an enlisted soldier, it meant being stuck as a common soldier forever. It's no wonder, as all their neighbors were much weaker than them. Getting caught meant admitting defeat and surrendering instead of fighting to the last.

The only way to erase this disgrace was either a daring escape from captivity or death in battle.

"Message transmitted, Marshal," the radio operator spoke up.

"Good," said the Marshal, then boarded the lifeboat, followed by General Cius. "Aren't you getting in?" he wondered, seeing that the captain was ordering others to leave the lifeboat.

"The captain goes last," Martinus replied.

"I understand," nodded Marshal Praetor, knowing well that the captain wasn't going anywhere. And indeed, the captain organized the evacuation until the very end, finally giving his place in the last lifeboat to an ordinary sailor.

For this act, many years later, Captain Martinus was considered one of the few bright moments in the Battle of the Strait, as the massacre came to be called in official historiography. He received his own monument, poems, epics, and even plays were performed about him.

Of course, everything was exaggerated and embellished just to sweeten the pain of the defeat on that day.

But is that surprising?

OKP Kaszub

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the Kaszub, Captain Głuś looked in astonishment as the enemy fleet began to disperse and sail northward on their own. The battle had just begun, and already the enemy was fleeing in panic. But it was not surprising, as within a quarter of an hour, they had managed to set fire to and sink nearly a hundred ships.

The entire vanguard and a portion of the core of the fleet had been destroyed, including the enemy's flagship, as confirmed by the drone footage. However, one problem remained.

"Captain, enemy air forces are approaching!" he was informed.

"How many?" Tworka asked.

He waited a moment for a response. "It looks like about fifty, the rest are attempting to escape to Parpaldia on their own."

"That's not a lot," Farbiś chimed in.

"Nevertheless, enough to pose a threat," Głuś pointed out. He then issued orders to cease fire on the enemy ships and prepare to open fire on the aerial targets with all available cannons.

The crews of all the guns, two anti-aircraft Wróbel turrets of 25 millimeters caliber, one regular Tryton cannon of 35 millimeters caliber located at the rear of the ship, and the laser cannon at the bow, prepared to repel the enemy.

Upon the captain's command, the Kaszub closed in on the enemy. However, they waited to open fire until the enemy was about three kilometers away from the ship.

As soon as the adversaries reached the appropriate distance, a barrage of fire erupted. The destruction of the enemy was swift, each gun performed its task quickly and efficiently. The Triton cannon tore through the enemy in the air, forcing them to break formation. Whatever remained of the formation was riddled with holes by the Wróbels, and any target that evaded artillery fire through maneuvering was incinerated alive by the laser cannon.

The enemy flew a kilometer and a half before the last one plunged into the water.

"Not much of a 'threat'," Farbiś taunted. "We wiped them out before they could do anything."

Głuś could only roll his eyes at his deputy's snarkiness. Instead, he ordered a request for assistance to be transmitted. From what he observed, there were many surviving sailors, most of whom came from the burning ships. There were too many for the Kaszub to accommodate them all. The war may have ended for these Parpaldians, but will it end for everyone?
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
Praetor putch could worked,if they faced normal Poland.yes,Parpatian would still lost,but not as quickly.
Well,if it was Poland ruled by Tusk they coud win,but even with PIS our Kaszub would still be sunked there.
Well,thanks for chapter.

P.S where are drones? future Poland should have some mini subs and planes without crew.
 
Last edited:

ATP

Well-known member
@Batrix2070 ,how good their kinetic magic schields are? if,for example,our Kaszub was there with 76mm gun,how many schells would it need to overwhelm schields?
 

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
@Batrix2070 ,how good their kinetic magic schields are? if,for example,our Kaszub was there with 76mm gun,how many schells would it need to overwhelm schields?
Quite good, it's acutely not too difficult magic and actually quite simple to replicate by science. As the Polish scientists in the first fic researched how it worked, they were severely embarrassed that sc-fi shields were so easy to develop. All it took was a little deviation.

Nevertheless, transferring this to numbers, their shields? It's about 20 bullets to pull them off, but that's not a constant. It actually depends on the power of the powering "engine". The weakest protects against 8 and the strongest protects against more than 67 bullets. At the same time, you need a weapon of at least 20mm caliber to make it work. Any smaller is ineffective in practice. (That is, although you can shoot and shoot down such a shield, it is too costly in relation to the effects).

The other important thing when it comes to the shield that there is no upper power limit, that is, using nukes against shields is like using a battleship gun to kill a cockroach. What matters is the number of hits, not the power of the hit. Which is, of course, a cheat as well as a reference that whoever designed such shields was much more advanced than those who use it now. (The reference, of course, is to Ravernnals.)
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
Quite good, it's acutely not too difficult magic and actually quite simple to replicate by science. As the Polish scientists in the first fic researched how it worked, they were severely embarrassed that sc-fi shields were so easy to develop. All it took was a little deviation.

Nevertheless, transferring this to numbers, their shields? It's about 20 bullets to pull them off, but that's not a constant. It actually depends on the power of the powering "engine". The weakest protects against 8 and the strongest protects against more than 67 bullets. At the same time, you need a weapon of at least 20mm caliber to make it work. Any smaller is ineffective in practice. (That is, although you can shoot and shoot down such a shield, it is too costly in relation to the effects).

The other important thing when it comes to the shield that there is no upper power limit, that is, using nukes against shields is like using a battleship gun to kill a cockroach. What matters is the number of hits, not the power of the hit. Which is, of course, a cheat as well as a reference that whoever designed such shields was much more advanced than those who use it now. (The reference, of course, is to Ravernnals.)
So,our Kaszub would die there.

On anoter topic - i read about sea battle at Salis/24.03.1609/ where hetman Chodkiewicz used few ships captured on swedes and crewed by polish calvary and infrantry,which in night attack defeated swedish fleet there.

So,calvary officers serving well on sea seems legit.
 
Operation Nadciągająca Burza

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
Approaching Storm

March 18, A.D. 2021, 15:07:25

Private John Payne

101st Airborne Legion

101st Airborne Oddział (Batallion)

AN-70 Deck, over the Altaras Strait, 8 minutes to drop zone


"Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Come on, John, stay calm. You've been trained for this. Swift action, at the forefront of the attack, just as you wanted," Payne muttered to himself. Nerves were eating at him. He was about to experience his first combat mission, and it was of such great magnitude.

Direct descent onto the capital of Parpaldia, they were to disable the "Empire" in one strike. Yes, nihil novi sub sole, Payne thought. After all, that's what the 101st Legion was created for - the first and only elite airborne unit in the entire Republic.

Formed only after the success of analogous British paratroopers during the Irish War, as the armed conflict that took place between 1942 and 1945 was called. However, after the war, Polish military personnel were not eager to form such a unit, preferring the so-called "Silent Unseen" (Cichociemni).

To explain, these are paratroopers who, at most, in battalion strength, perform the role of commando-saboteurs, living off the enemy's land. Incidentally, it was based on the Cichociemni that Polish special forces such as the Special Service (SS) and Kedyw were later formed.

This does not mean, of course, that the Cichociemni themselves ceased to exist. On the contrary, they continue to exist to this day as independent paratrooper oddział (battalions), enjoying well-deserved glory and esteem.

The Cichociemni themselves are an extension of light infantry regiments serving in the Commonwealth, based, for example, on Hutsul riflemen, Kurpie riflemen, or Jegrzy, also often called "Hunters."

The effectiveness and usefulness of the Cichociemni were demonstrated in the Irish War, where airborne units dropped into Ireland unleashed hell upon the British attempting to annex the island.

The 101st itself was established as a result of pressure from Alaskan officers who wanted something different from small sabotage units that were unable to realistically seize territory but only annoy the enemy on it. Eventually, it was agreed to create such a unit, drawing on the experiences that other countries had with such soldiers.

For a long time, there was reluctance towards it, considering it an expensive extravagance, preferring airborne cavalry based on helicopters, which had a fighting style more suitable for the Polish military. Nevertheless, during the war starting on July 4th, it proved highly effective in clashes with the Worker's Army. Although the 101st suffered heavy losses during this conflict, it demonstrated its usefulness, especially in cooperation with the Cichociemni, becoming a thorn in the side of the attacking Americans.

Since then, it has become the trusted fist of the Commonwealth, wherever a fast and hard strike against the enemy is needed. It should be noted that traditionally, this unit consists of Free Americans, commonly known as Alaskans, as opposed to Alaszkans, who are Polish and Rusyn-speaking residents of Alaska, and of course, the indigenous people known as Indians.

Therefore, in addition to the operational commands that are in Polish because Alaska is a Crown Colony, the language soldiers use on a daily basis is English.

"Hey!" shouted Payne's neighbor, seeing that he wasn't responding, and tapped him on the shoulder. It was only then that Payne reacted, suddenly jumping up.

"Sit down, we're not jumping yet," his neighbor pulled him down.

"Oh, it's you. Sorry, Harry, I'm a bit nervous, you know?" Payne realized his mistake after a moment.

The soldier named Harry rolled his eyes. "And who wouldn't be nervous?" he asked rhetorically. "Only an idiot wouldn't be nervous in this situation."

"Well... the madness was cooked up by our Hetman," Payne agreed.

Harry shook his head from side to side before replying, "He is, after all, the great-grandson of Roosevelt. And was Teddy normal?"

Payne slowly nodded his head. After all, it's hard to call someone normal who didn't care when someone shot at him or who crossed the entire country to Poland with a multitude of refugees.

"Nevertheless, I'm surprised that the command approved it," Payne added.

Harry shrugged. "I heard that the Hetman personally flew to Warsaw to meet the King, most likely our gracious ruler pushed it through."

"If that's true, I'm not surprised. Piłsudski is the King's man. I've never heard of him doing anything against him," Payne replied.

"You know, John?" Harry asked his friend.

"Yes?" Payne inquired.

"I think you forgot that our King is the supreme commander of all the armed forces of the Commonwealth,, and the officers and hetmans only represent him in the field. If he wants something, he can do it, and Hetman Piłsudski has to fulfill his orders because he's his commander," Harry explained.

"Well, yeah. That's right," Payne agreed, recalling his recent history lessons about the current ruler's great-grandfather, who, by the way, shares the same name as him, Witold I. He personally led the Crown Army against England during the Irish War.

As the Commander of the Polish Forces, he occupied the United Kingdom and received the triumph due to the Great Leader upon his return to the country when Great Britain laid down its arms. For many foreigners of that time and even today, it is unthinkable. For Payne and many other Poles, it is a source of pride that their Kings are not mere puppets on the throne.

Then he felt a stronger jolt, and the AN-70 began to descend. Oddziałowy (Lieutenant Colonel) Edward Kenway, the commanding officer of their unit, went to the center of the deck.

"All right, gentlemen and scaredy-cats. We'll be over the target in 6 minutes. Check your equipment. I don't want any surprises, neither in the air nor on the ground!" the officer announced. "And remember, no foolish stunts. I don't want to find out that one of my men got taken down by some musket-wielding native," he added, pointing his finger threateningly.

"Yes, Sir!" all the paratroopers shouted in Polish.

"I can't hear you!"

"YES, SIR!" they repeated louder.

"Well, let's stick to that," Kenway, officially recorded as Kenłej in the papers, was satisfied. After all, Polish is now the language to adapt to.

The paratroopers, who had all risen by now, began to check their equipment one last time before jumping out of the plane. There was no end to showing off, bantering, or other interpersonal pleasantries. Each tried to occupy their mind in their own way before the jump. Yes, they were jumping onto an enemy that would be first stunned by their air force and that couldn't retaliate due to its backwardness, but it was a descent not out in the field, but straight into the city.

Payne stretched slightly before the jump, a colleague from the neighboring row silently prayed. Another nervously tapped his foot. The red light in the fuselage created an atmosphere of tension. As they felt the jolt once again and the cargo ramp began to lower, everyone tensed up, preparing for the command to run and jump.

As soon as the green light lit up, the command was given, "Go!"

Payne focused, his squad was the first to jump. In front of him were three other paratroopers who belonged to his team and group: Anthony Stark, Steven Roger, and Peter Parker, known as Gwiazdor (the Star), Poważny (the Serious), and Kujon (the Nerd), as they were commonly called in Payne's squad. And not without reason.

Stark, as befitting their team's Star, made a flashy jump. Roger, on the other hand, quickly and confidently performed his jump. Parker did it almost by the book.

Now it was Payne's turn. Without much thought, he gained momentum and jumped forward without any showboating, although the jump seemed to go in slow motion for him. In his opinion, it took him a while to leave the deck. It was only after he flew out that the world started moving as it should.

He stared at the city below, admitting that it was enormous. According to the information received before the mission, it had over a million inhabitants. Nevertheless, he was amazed to see skyscrapers, well, they were somewhat small, but still skyscrapers.

That didn't mean it was calm, though. The city itself was already under attack by the KZL ZB-81 Wróbel from the OKP Władysław IV Waza and the AN-20/AR artillery planes, which were the artillery version of the AN-20 from the 11th Transport Regiment that transported the paratroopers.

The Wróbels dropped guided bombs, while others used the latest iteration of the Szpons, which were air-to-ground guided missiles. However, there seemed to be a preference for bombs over missiles. The latter had only moderate esteem throughout the armed forces. It's not surprising, considering we're talking about extremely expensive weapons, which, when combined with laser weaponry, made them highly situational armament.

But for Payne, it was a dispute among armchair generals, which was completely irrelevant in his situation. He opened his parachute quite low to the ground, suspecting the presence of solid anti-aircraft defenses, so-called magical cannons. Their presence was confirmed by intelligence and reconnaissance, and a characteristic feature was the rainbow they created when opening fire.

The young Alaskan noticed them during the descent, futilely trying to stop air strikes or shoot down transport planes. Usually, right after they opened fire, a Wrobel or AN-20/AR would blow them up in the air. It was particularly macabre in the latter case because the artillerymen on the AN-20/AR didn't mess around and blew up the entire area along with the cannon.

If there were any civilians around, they were in deep trouble.

That's why he deployed his parachute low, as did almost all his comrades in the unit. This way, they could count on the element of surprise because, as it is quite obvious, it's very difficult to spot a falling person.

As soon as he hit the ground, which was a small square, without wasting a moment, he took off the backpack with the parachute from his back. He no longer needed it, and time was of the essence. Then he reached for his backpack with equipment and slung it over his back. Quickly after that, he picked up his weapon and released the safety.

His standard weapon was the wz.18 Radon automatic rifle, the successor of the old and worn-out wz.68 Tantal. It differed in everything, but most importantly, it was a modular weapon, so you could customize it according to your preferences.

His Radon was quite classic, with the addition of a foregrip and a holographic sight.

He was ready, just adjusting his goggles, which looked like ordinary military goggles from the outside but, in reality, besides eye protection, had a simple HUD display connected to the Topaz so that he knew the locations of his comrades, their status, and similar information.

A small thing but very helpful. However, as soon as he was about to report his readiness by pressing the button on the pseudo-watch worn on his wrist, which was essentially a larger smartwatch without a touch screen, a gunshot rang out.

The world slowed down again, and Payne wasn't surprised at all. In such situations, he suddenly felt like he was moving faster than normal. He easily dodged and sprinted towards cover. While running, he realized that the bullet hit and ricocheted off the stones that paved the square.

As soon as he found cover, the world returned to normal, and Payne started looking for the shooter. He found him after the second shot, which hit the wooden roof above an old well. Only then did he notice where the shots were coming from.

It was a red-colored building with some signs in the local language and three flags on its wall. He recognized one of them because it was the flag of Parpaldia, but the other two were unfamiliar. He suspected that one of the remaining flags represented the city.

The shooter was firing from open windows, more precisely from the second floor. Whoever was shooting apparently wasn't clever enough to have all the windows open. When they attempted to shoot for the third time, Payne reacted quickly. He aimed and fired two short bursts.

He didn't know if he hit or not. Nevertheless, he momentarily silenced the shooter. Unfortunately, another one joined the action, this time from the first floor. Another person quickly came to their aid from the same floor. Then the firing started from the ground floor, this time with more assailants.

Payne quickly took cover behind the well, pressing the button on his "smartwatch" appropriate for being under attack. Then he resumed exchanging fire with the unknown adversaries. He quickly realized that his opponents had terrible aim, which, combined with poor rate of fire and lack of coordination, allowed him to open fire without much concern.

"Payne, report what's happening. Who's attacking you?" his commander, Grupowy John Marston, spoke up after a while of shooting.

"Eight contacts, from the red building to the east of my position. I suspect it's the local police station. I'm having trouble confirming hits; every time I shoot, someone fires back from that window," Payne replied, taking cover again and reloading in the process.

"Understood, Group, rendezvous north of Payne." A blue marker with an arrow appeared on Payne's HUD. "Payne, hold your position until reinforcements arrive."

"Copy that, received," Payne replied, then settled comfortably, allowing himself to be fired upon from what he assumed were local police officers. In the meantime, he could admire their marksmanship; they simply shot indiscriminately. Bullets were flying in all directions, and he could easily count the shattered pots, broken windows, and shattered stones.

However, they couldn't cover up the sound of intensifying urban warfare and flying planes. From time to time, Payne noticed residents peeking through windows, ordinary people whose peaceful lives were interrupted by an unexpected descent. Despite everything, Payne felt sympathy for them. They had been living peacefully, certain they were safe and that no one would dare invade their town, and suddenly, someone attacked them in broad daylight.

He also noticed hastily discarded items and abandoned stalls. Nothing new, the residents fled as soon as he landed and they realized he was armed.

He checked the police station again and realized that two officers had left the building. They looked colorful like the building itself, wearing beautiful red uniforms with gold trim and white helmets similar to those worn by British police officers.

Payne knew them well because his great-grandfather, who served His Majesty during the days when America was a British dominion, wore such a uniform. He had his pictures, and when he was little, he wanted to join the police. In the end, he ended up in the military when he caught the passion for parachuting in high school.

It wasn't uncommon; many Polish paratroopers started that way. After all, parachute jumps are highly popular and esteemed among Poles, and many parachute schools offer programs for high school students. So he went to such a school, and encouraged by his friends and instructors, he joined the military to be able to skydive at the king's expense. Thus, instead of becoming a police officer, he became a soldier. That's the whole story.

Nonetheless, he liked the police, and his hobby was collecting memorabilia from this organization, with a particular focus on the former British police. This modern one was... so-so. Quite frankly, it was very Polish, due to Poland's policy towards occupied Britain. All former uniformed formations were dissolved, and the British Police were replaced by the British Gendarmerie, modeled after the Polish Crown Police.

As for the communist version from America, there are no words.

So, he felt a bit sorry for shooting at them. They looked good; their weapon was a type of oversized revolver, but it had to be done. He waited for them to get closer before opening fire. The first one dropped dead after a single shot, the second one tried to escape, but before he reached the stairs, Payne shot him three times in the back.

The police officer fell forward, and the revolver flew a few meters away. Payne quickly returned to the first one and sent a few bullets his way just to make sure he was dead. Fortunately, he was.

Then he quickly took cover again as the remaining officers counterattacked. This time, their volley was more accurate; most of the bullets hit the well or its roof. One bullet pierced through and knocked over the bucket that was sitting on the well. Water quickly spilled over the stones.

They're furious, thought Payne. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait any longer. His earpiece filled with Marston's voice again.

"I see I don't have to ask you to draw their attention, you pissed them off nicely. Stay there and don't stick your head out; we'll take care of the rest."

"Understood," replied Payne, noticing his comrades from the group (section) heading north along the alleyway. Some of them entered a house, presumably trying to flank the building. Four of them, including Marston, reached the corner of the building, waiting for the signal to attack. They didn't have to wait long; the remaining five who were moving through the tenement building emerged from the courtyard side.

This exit was right next to the corner path, and next to that path was a row of tenement buildings where the police station was located. They quickly reached the adjacent tenement, barged inside, and then cries were heard. Panic and stern commands. Then he saw markers indicating explosive charges on the second floor.

As soon as the timer on the marker reached zero, he heard an explosion that shook the building. Then the first shots from Radon rang out, and the markers for the fifth floor in the building switched to combat mode.

However, Payne couldn't watch any longer; he heard his subgroup's voice on the channel, Marston's voice.

"Smith, smoke grenade!" The area quickly filled with smoke.

"Subgroup, move, move, move!" Marston ordered. "To the building, clear the ground floor!"

Payne rushed to his designated position. It didn't take him long; he was by the window in no time. His partner was Isaac Clarke. He signaled to Payne that he would take care of it, smashed the closed window with the butt of his weapon, and Clarke threw a fragmentation grenade inside. As soon as it exploded, the commander and John Romero stormed through the door, starting a shootout.

As soon as they heard "Clear!", together with Clarke and the last member of the group, Michael Townley, they entered through the windows. Inside, they found quite a mess. Next to the window, there was a corpse with a shot skull and neck, torn apart by the grenade. It seemed someone had already hit him before.

The police officer was unarmed, confirming suspicions that the fallen officers were being replaced by their colleagues. Their bodies were scattered throughout the room, all torn apart by the grenade. Nevertheless, there was no time for further inspection.

"Move forward! Clear the rest of the rooms!" Marston ordered, and the paratroopers began the sweep. Payne took the lead, and most of the rooms were vacant. Only towards the end, in the kitchen, they found a few people, mainly women and one elderly man, all terrified by the Polish paratroopers.

"Contact! Technical staff, four women, one man," Payne reported to Marston.

"Understood, secure them."

"Copy that," replied Payne, and he ordered everyone to line up against the wall. Fortunately, Parpaldiański closely resembled Łacina, and Payne knew Łacina well, as any Pole would. Then, together with Clarke, they handcuffed all the captives.

Once they were done, they made sure the prisoners couldn't escape by making them lie face down on the ground, and they proceeded to the stairs.

When they reached the stairs, they waited for those on the second floor. It took a moment before they received the order to attack the top floor. Payne took the lead once again. The stairs were annoyingly winding, revolving around an axis. The only thing that served as cover was the railing made of incredibly thin wood, so it couldn't be considered proper cover.

He walked slowly and cautiously, not wanting to catch a bullet. His caution paid off because at the last moment, he ducked from a shot. The bullet whizzed past his head and shattered the railing.

As soon as that happened, he quickly opened fire, and shots rained down from above. They bombarded the stairwell with gunfire. When the dull thud of a falling body reached his ears, he ceased firing. There were no further significant problems; the clearance of the remaining officers on the floor was brief.

He had to admit that they didn't cower but fought valiantly to the end with their weapons. They had slim chances against the military, yet they still engaged in battle. Now it was over, with almost no prisoners, except for one severely wounded police officer who fell into their hands. Their medic was currently attending to him.

The rest, over fifteen police officers, were dead. They were now collecting their bodies on the ground floor. It was quiet for now, and leaving them as they had fallen was not appropriate. Marston was interrogating the civilian personnel at the station, wanting to know their names to facilitate burial and funeral arrangements for the locals after the city fell.

The area appeared devoid of soldiers. It was not surprising; there were no garrisons in this area. The nearest one was in the palace belonging to the Imperial Guard. However, they were busy fighting off the attacking paratroopers from the 102nd Airborne Oddział.

The remaining garrisons were destroyed from the air by the Wróbel and AN-20/AR planes, which knew their locations thanks to intelligence. Only those who were outside the barracks during the bombing survived. However, it didn't mean they posed a threat as the armories had also been blown up.

Nevertheless, it didn't mean that Payne's duty was coming to an end. As soon as they announced securing the outpost, they received new orders. Payne's unit was to move and support the 102nd Division.

Once their outpost was taken over by the 104th Oddział, they headed west. More precisely, northwest, through a small alley. They weren't afraid of ambushes as a swarm of Latające Oko drones flew above them, transmitting data to Topaz as part of the Wampir system.

This allowed them to bypass or, if they preferred, set up ambushes for the local defense forces, which also had coordination problems due to the elimination of the radio antenna network in the city. The only means of communication were messengers, both ordinary and magical.

After about ten minutes, Payne's unit reached their destination. The biggest challenge turned out to be the street network of Esthirant. They approached the palace from the west, from the side of the palace park.

Remembering the warning about the wall being protected by spells preventing climbing, Marston ordered the park wall to be blasted with a grenade launcher. The order was promptly executed, and shortly after, the unit marched through the paths of the quite pleasant park to explore. It turned out that the spells that usually protected the palace had disappeared, thanks to the courtesy of the Polish pilots.

Payne and his comrades bypassed a small pond from its southern side, and the sounds of gunfire grew louder. A quick glance at Topaz revealed that the 102nd, fighting on the other side of the building, had managed to break through the Imperial Guard's main defense line and pushed them back to the palace itself.

Another look at Topaz revealed the procession of the 103rd Oddział attacking from the north. Ahead of them was a mass of red dots retreating into the chaos and converging toward the palace. One had to be blind as a mole not to notice that more and more of them were disappearing.

Only the side from which Payne's unit marched was empty. Until now.

A moment later, a volley rang out, and one of the soldiers walking ahead of Payne fell to the ground.

"CONTACT!" Harry shouted, and the paratroopers quickly dispersed, searching for the enemy.

Payne spotted the opponent first. He quickly opened fire towards the bushes where he noticed a rifle sticking out. The other paratroopers joined in a moment later.

They didn't have to wait long for the results; bodies fell out of the bush. However, it wasn't a reason for celebration. Shortly after, lightning bolts, fireballs, or rocks hurled with considerable force started raining down on their positions.

"MAGE! MAGE!" someone shouted.

"Where?" another responded.

"THE ROOF OF THE PALACE AND THE GARAGES!" he received the response. Payne followed the directions and indeed saw a group of young women in maid uniforms casting spells towards them.

He decided to react, but first, he had to sidestep to avoid a hurled stone. It embedded deeply in the ground, and if it had hit him, he would have ended up in St. Peter's arms for sure. Then, time seemed to slow down again, and Payne returned fire towards the maids.

For Payne, it felt like a longer moment, although in reality, it was brief. Specifically, it took as long as it took to empty an incomplete 30-round magazine. Nonetheless, it wasn't a problem. All the witch-maids were dead. Most of them fell to single bullets, but before that happened, he had to use a considerable portion of the magazine to break through the shield set up by one of them.

He saw the surprised look on that girl's face when suddenly the shield fell, and a 7x41mm bullet shattered her skull. The rest were less surprised and more focused on escaping from the scythe. It didn't help them.

Payne quickly pressed a button on his weapon, and the magazine fell to the ground. By that time, a new one was already entering the weapon. He then began searching for new targets and found one in a window on the third floor. He opened fire, and others did the same after him. Before he realized it, the window and everything around it were riddled with bullets.

"FORWARD, FORWARD! TO THE BUILDING!" Marston shouted, issuing new orders.

Someone threw a smoke grenade, which posed no problem for Payne. Thanks to the drone above, his goggles already showed him the outline of the building in front of him. The 21st century was displaying its power in all its glory.

He sprinted towards the wall, remembering not to enter the designated blasting zone. After a moment, someone fired the grenade launcher, and the grenade hit the wall shortly after. To everyone's surprise, the wall held. Payne could see why.

"Shield! The walls are reinforced with magic!" he immediately reported.

"Magic, whatever. Group, move away from the walls!" Marston responded, designating a line position for the soldiers.

Payne quickly took his position.

"Group, on my command, blow up the wall with grenades!"

Payne smirked mockingly; it was time for a Polish greeting. That meant the entire unit loaded grenades onto rifles, into grenade launchers, and so on, and then fired them directly at the position that needed to be blown up. Of course, they don't normally shoot in unison.

Once everyone confirmed their readiness, Marston shouted a simple command.

"FIRE!"

Payne fired along with the others, and a moment later, there was an explosion. The last thing he remembered before waking up on board the OKP Niezwyciężony was being thrown with full force into the pond.


Imperial Palace

A loud explosion shook the building. Ludius grabbed onto the sofa just in time, but unfortunately, not everyone was as lucky.

"Are you alright, Chamberlain?" he asked his servant. The older man lay sprawled on the floor, holding his head as he got up.

"I'm fine, Your Highness," the Chamberlain replied, then added, looking to the right, "Although your priceless Gnim dynasty vase has been irretrievably lost."

Ludius chuckled. "No need to worry, I never liked it anyway," he replied with a dismissive wave. He never understood his great-grandfather's obsession with the Gnim dynasty, an ancient family from the Forgotten Centuries when the land was larger and less maritime.

"Alright, report to me what the hell happened?" he asked Arde, who stood nearby. Arde, who woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, was slowly losing his senses due to the sudden impact from the air.

"The Poles blew something up, probably a warehouse," he mumbled automatically.

Ludius felt the urge to hold his head, but he refrained from doing so. "Thank you, Grand Marshal, for this invaluable piece of information. I couldn't have guessed," he said sarcastically.

"How should I know?" Arde snapped, completely ruined by the battle. "It just exploded, and you already want an answer. I'm not a clairvoyant!"

"Then maybe you should check it faster!" Ludius retorted, ignoring the lack of proper etiquette.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, Your Highness," said Arde, sitting back on the chair he had picked up from the ground. He quickly began connecting via radio with the units defending the capital.

It took a while, during which Ludius could assess that the signs of fighting from the east had ceased, while those from the west were getting closer and closer.

"I've got it!" Arde shouted. "The magical stone warehouse in the east wing blew up. It threw the Poles backward."

"Understood," Ludius replied with concern, looking at the door leading to the exit. The sounds of gunfire were getting closer. After a moment, someone knocked heavily on the door and started yelling.

"YOUR HIGHNESS, THEY'RE ALREADY HERE...!" The sentence was cut short by a rattling series of sounds that silenced the voice. The sound of bullets hitting the mighty mithril doors was truly unsettling. Then they heard human voices speaking in a heavily slurred language, the complete opposite of the rustle of the Polish language.

"Jucius, check it," Ludius ordered the guard. Jucius immediately carried out the command, checking through what we would call an intercom.

"Enemy," Jucius informed him. "In a force of ten men. They're doing something at the doors."

Arde suddenly displayed remarkable clarity of mind. "Everyone against the wall by the entrance! Now!"

Every person immediately obeyed the command, pressing themselves against the cold, stone wall. The distinct tingling sensation of magic could be felt; the walls were reinforced with shield enchantments.

Ludius waited with another guard, his revolver in his right hand. He had no intention of dying like a coward. Like every Parpaldian, he always carried his weapon with him. Besides, in palace intrigues, the argument of firearms was always useful.

The moment before the doors flew inward, blown open by an explosion, felt like one of the longest in his life. He remembered the subsequent events as if through a haze: something entered the room, blinding him and everyone in the shelter.

Then he heard the stomping of feet and sounds of scuffling before he felt someone throw him to the ground, restraining his limbs. He may have lost consciousness or, at the very least, was not fully in control of his faculties.

His full memory returned when he realized it was evening, and he was in a foreign, steel room, facing a man in a military uniform.

"Where am I?" he asked the man before him, slowly regaining sensation throughout his body. He had the impression that someone had taken care of him while his spirit was absent from his body.

"On board the flagship of the Crown Kingdom of Poland, the Niezwyciężony (Invincible)," the man explained, speaking a language similar to Parpaldian but much harsher, known as Latin. "But forgive my manners; I am called Witold, of the Pogoń coat of arms, from the Czartoryski family."

Ludius suddenly realized who he was sitting in front of. He quickly uttered the appropriate response. "May Your Highness forgive my lack of mental clarity and allow me to introduce myself. I am Ludius, of the Draco coat of arms, from the Paterdomini family," he said, extending his hand toward Witold.

Witold shook it and added apologetically, "It is I who should ask Your Imperial Majesty for forgiveness, considering how unconventionally you arrived here." He then gestured to the table nearby. "Tea or coffee?"

"It's alright, actually, I'm more amazed by what you have done," Ludius replied amiably, then added, "If you please, I'd prefer tea. Coffee doesn't sit well with my stomach."

"Same here!" Witold remarked, snapping his fingers. The maid approached silently and prepared two teas.

Ludius was surprised by her appearance; he didn't hear her make any sound. Her movements were also incredibly precise, devoid of anything unnecessary. It was as if she had calculated every action to perform the task flawlessly. Too flawlessly.

"I see you have an incredibly skilled staff, Your Highness," Ludius commented.

"Isn't that the truth?" Witold agreed. "And please, call me Witold. In fact, we are equals."

Ludius felt the urge to mock the notion of equality. He was an Emperor, and Witold was a King. On the other hand, being the ruler of such a superpower was similar to being an Emperor. So, in a way, he was right.

"Indeed, Witold. Please feel free to address me by my name," Ludius finally replied.

"I won't hesitate, Ludius," Witold replied, reaching under the table to retrieve a box with a chessboard. "Shall we play?"

Ludius pondered for a moment before thinking, why not? He nodded. Witold immediately unfolded the board; it was enormous. Ludius suspected it had about a hundred squares.

"These are not chess, forgive me, Ludius. I prefer Checkers," Witold remarked.

The Emperor nodded; playing Checkers could be a nice change from ubiquitous chess. Every crowned head he had encountered only played chess with him.

With Ludius's assistance, Witold quickly set up the board and the pieces. Then he asked, "Who starts?"

"The winner," Ludius replied.

Witold smiled lightly at the jab and made the first move. Ludius swiftly responded, and a few turns passed before he asked, "So, Witold, what do you want? I suppose you didn't bring me here just to play Checkers."

"Peace," Witold said, creating his first king.

"Peace?" Ludius was surprised. "But what kind of peace? Money? Land? Homage?"

Witold shook his head. "We don't need money; we have enough to share with everyone around, and still, it would suffice. And speaking of wealth, I dare say I possess more fortune on my own than the entire wealth of Parpaldia."

He continued his assault with the king, eliminating two more of Ludius's pieces. "As for land, we have plenty. The Commonwealth is a vast country. And if we desire land, there are many uninhabited territories in this world waiting for someone to settle and claim them."

He then captured the last three of Ludius's pieces before ending up in an entirely different position from where he started. "As for homage, it is unnecessary. We are not Kitaj, the Middle Kingdom that looks at everyone around as barbarians and considers itself the center of the world, to whom others must pay tribute for its 'enlightenment' of the lower peoples."

Ludius sensed that behind the mention of Kitaj, there was a truly powerful history hidden. Witold's tone and his bitterness when speaking about it revealed a sense of contempt toward that country.

"I understand," Ludius replied, taken aback. He managed to capture a few of Witold's pieces and maneuver the remaining ones to prevent him from using his king. Nevertheless, his joy was premature; the Pole changed his strategy. Before he realized it, Witold gained two more kings.

"That is why we simply ask for a return to the status quo, a peace treaty, and respect for the principles of good neighborliness," Witold elucidated, clearly in control of the entire game.

"Does good neighborliness require appeasing Louria?" he asked, seemingly rhetorically and somewhat provocatively. He managed to acquire his first king and begin his revenge for the lost pieces.

"Yes," Witold agreed. "Would you mind if we establish our own order there?" he asked Ludius, while at the same time ending the play of Ludius's king with a regular piece.

"Not at all," Ludius replied, becoming more and more interested in the game as he was pushed into increasingly desperate defense by Witold. Before the Pole responded, he managed to capture more of Ludius's pieces and eliminate one of his kings.

"That's good," Witold replied with relief. "Although I thought you would resist more, put up a fight. Aren't you wasting your time and resources?" Witold had just deprived Ludius of most of his pieces.

"Not really," Ludius said, trying only to inflict as much damage as possible on Witold. "That's life, isn't it? Sometimes you win," he was losing his last pieces, "and sometimes you lose." He managed to eliminate the second king before losing his last pawn. "Especially when you're checkmated."

"Indeed," Witold agreed, extending his hand to Ludius, who shook it. "The Emperor has been eliminated; it's time for the Hetman to join him."

"Hetman?" Ludius was surprised; he didn't know what the Polish military rank had to do with chess.

"Forgive me, that's what we call the Queen in chess. And Hark is your Queen, isn't she?" Witold replied disarmingly.

Ludius burst into laughter. Indeed, in his game, Hark was like a Queen.

Although he doubted the dog would appreciate being referred to as such.


Duchy of Que-Toyne

March 19, 1640, Central Calendar

Camp of the Northern Army near Gim


"My King! My King!" shouted one of the knights as he burst into the tent with great force. He interrupted the ongoing council of commanders, desperately seeking solutions to break through the Polish-Toynian defensive lines.

"What is it, Tarwo?" Hark, his King, asked. It was hard not to notice the unkempt facial hair of several days and the weary face of the ruler.

"Parpaldia..." Tarwo began.

"What about Parpaldia?" the King perked up.

"They surrendered."

Everyone froze in place. The Parpaldian Empire surrendered? What? How?

"Explain yourself, Tarwo. What do you mean Parpaldia surrendered!?" Hark growled angrily.

"Poland seized their capital in a single strike, captured the Emperor, and forced him to sign a separatist peace treaty."

"What kind of separatist treaty?!" Hark grabbed the knight by the shoulders and shook him.

"The White Peace, my lord," the knight nervously replied.

Hark exploded.

"THEY SIGNED THE WHITE PEACE? THOSE FUCKING BASTARDS, I'LL PERSONALLY RIP THAT FUCKING COWARD'S BALLS OFF AND SHOVE THEM DOWN HIS THROAT!" Hark yelled at the top of his lungs.

Everyone in the tent winced. Hark was increasingly prone to fits of rage.

"We're here, bleeding and killing, and that asshole not only failed to help but also fucked off at the first opportunity!" Hark continued his tirade.

"It's starting again; it'll probably take an hour for him to calm down," someone muttered.

Everyone in the tent nodded, while those outside preferred to keep their distance. Last time they eavesdropped, they got hit with a chair Hark threw in anger.

That's when he earned the nickname "The Strongman," as his blow rendered everyone unconscious for four days.

Surprisingly, Hark suddenly stopped and a wicked smile appeared on his face. "That fucker will remember me, he will remember."

Madness took hold of his face.

"Marschal!" he called out to his highest-ranking knight, Marshal Herrik.

"Yes, my lord?" the marshal responded.

"Gather the troops for a general assault. We've played enough with the Poles. We will either win or perish. Fuck it all," Hark declared categorically.

"But, my lord...!" the marshal began, shocked like everyone else in the tent.

"Brilliant idea, isn't it?" Hark sarcastically remarked. Seeing the bewildered expressions of those gathered, he quickly added, "I was being sarcastic. I know it's a stupid idea. But time is up, gentlemen. The Poles will soon show us their eagle's claws. And I don't know about you, but I prefer to strike first while that eagle is still on the ground. Maybe we can catch it."

He looked at his generals. He could tell they were still against it. Hark sighed. "Fine, you have only one task. Storm Gim. If I die, you can retreat home however you want." Everyone was shocked by this information. "Or earlier if you manage to. I don't care anymore. We lost, but we can at least choose the way we depart. I prefer it to be in glory. What about you?"

The knights looked at each other uncertainly.

One of them, General Franko, broke the silence first. "The King is right. We can either weep in despair like women or, as befits men, go into our final battle and perhaps achieve one last success."

Hark smiled. "Poor bastards," he thought. Then he realized, "Actually, I'm the biggest of them all. Instead of enjoying retirement, I intend to plot revenge in the shadows." He pondered the thought.

He shrugged. "Well, someone has to avenge all those fallen, right?"
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

ATP

Well-known member
Magic maids died...NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
They should become Payne harem! @Batrix2070 ,how could you?


Jokes aside - good chapter.
 
Last Assault

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
March 20, Anno Domini 2022/1640 Central Calendar/September 5, 2006 (Japan, Behind the Gate)

Pricipality of Que-Toyne
Gim



These Prussians are insane. That's the opinion circulating among the people of Itami and all other Japanese who were stationed in the fortifications of Gim. Those who had the opportunity to get to know the Germans from the north, especially from the former GDR territory, i.e., their Prussians, realized how unnatural the drill instilled by the Prussian Kings was for them.

These Prussians, of course. They were closer to the Balts in name than to the Germans from their world. It's not surprising, many native Prussians were Germanized Baltic Prussians. Here, enlightened ideas and enlightened absolute monarchs had no influence on their character.

This meant that we were dealing not with disciplined formalists mindlessly obedient to higher ranks and with a very stiff sense of humor. Instead, we encountered extremely spirited people who had their own opinions, enjoyed rebelling, and had a sense of humor that was not so hermetic.

Although, for the sake of accuracy, most of the Prussians we know were never really Prussians, they were simply Brandenburgers under a different name.

That's why those Prussians who learned about their counterparts in our world quickly renamed the Kingdom of Prussia to the Kingdom of Brandenburg. They made it clear to the Japanese that the only Prussians they tolerate are those related to their adopted homeland, Poland.

Under no circumstances were they associated with the Germans, as they themselves say. We Germans rejected them in 1454 when we rebelled against the Teutonic Order in an armed and successful uprising.

That was the only more serious issue in their relations. As for everything else? Well, although it is true that their character is extremely foreign to the Japanese themselves, it didn't really bother them and was even helpful.

It helps a lot that they have a Polish sense of good manners rather than a German one. And that's not surprising, as they have been part of the Polish cultural sphere for centuries. A very important part, we must add. The Prussians have made great contributions to Polish culture, and since the subjugation of the Teutonic Order, Königsberg quickly became a Polish cultural center.

It was the Prussian printers who created the first standardized written form of the Polish language, and for many years, it was Prussia that printed the most books and publications in Polish.

And the gem in the crown was the University of Albertus in Königsberg, founded in 1554 by the last Grand Master of the Teutonic Order and the First Duke in Prussia, Albert of Hohenzollern. Privately, he was the nephew of the King of Poland, Zygmunt I the Old, the penultimate Jagiellonian on the Polish throne. That is why there was something called the Duchy in Prussia.

(An aside, although commonly referred to as the Duchy of Prussia and Prussian Duchies, that is a mistake. Formally, it was the Duchy in Prussia, as the Duke of Prussia, from the time of secularization until the partitions, was the King of Poland. Therefore, one could say that Frederick II usurped the title of King of Prussia. Illegally, of course, although the person concerned would not care, as he was busy, for example, counterfeiting the Polish currency on a large scale. This, of course, created significant inflation, making life difficult for Poland.)

Although the one who granted the right to confer academic titles to this university was Albrecht's cousin, Zygmunt II, the last Jagiellon. This also made the university superior, the second oldest in the Commonwealth.

The university itself was thoroughly Polish, giving birth to many Polish scholars, and Polish remains the traditional language of instruction to this day.

This was also the reason for the traditional knowledge of Polish among the Prussians, starting in ancient times from the higher circles and now even the common folk speak Polish or its Polanian variant, much like German.

Of course, among the Japanese who were incredibly curious about the world, they quickly immersed themselves among the Prussians, wanting to learn as much as possible.

Itami was not one of them, not that he didn't like it. He was simply too lazy to learn more than the basics. On the other hand, he was a commander, so he had to grasp more to be able to present in his report who these Prussians are, what their history is, and why the hell they say they are Polish.

That's why he spent time with the local commander, trying to find a common topic. Trying... that's a good way to describe it.

"Lourians are strangely calm, aren't they?" Itami asked in English. Fortunately, this Wiekier knew English, as he came from a merchant family, so he had contact with various people, including the English.

Wiekier looked at the Japanese man before agreeing. "Indeed," he added, "Although I think it's more like the calm before the storm."

Itami nodded. "Just like us, Saderian disappeared somewhere."

Wiekier shrugged. "Only you wiped out the whole army of those fools. We still have ours standing."

Itami had to agree. "True," he added, "I've noticed that the magic in this world is much more useful, making it harder to destroy them. And the commanders are more sensible. They try all sorts of tricks, like tunneling or using weather magic to obscure their sight, or camouflage magic. They don't march obediently towards their deaths."

"Well, they have to compensate for the fact that they consist solely of humans," the Hetman observed. "Their enemies utilize their racial diversity. Elves live long, so they're much better at everything due to their experience. Dwarves, on the other hand, are incredibly tough and stubborn in battle. Gnomes are small and difficult to notice. They also have access to half-human races. So, humans themselves don't have to be as excellent as the Lourians."

"Agreed," Itami replied, inwardly grimacing. It seemed that Kurata was in seventh heaven seeing so many non-humans in Gim. He was even obsessed with the locals, trying to see as many of them as possible and document many of them on his phone. Fortunately, many of the local soldiers proved to be quite understanding towards the Japanese and allowed themselves to be photographed. And Kurata knew how to behave to not alienate them, although a few times they had to get him out of trouble.

Itami was somewhat annoyed; he understood that he was fulfilling his dream in this way, but he didn't have to be so troublesome about it.

"Nevertheless, it doesn't mean that Toynans are in any way inferior because of it. They're not dumb either. Actually, I've noticed that they're very cautious," Itami added.

The Hetman raised his hands. "No wonder, with such an army that attacked them, one has to be really cautious. Just think about it, two million soldiers mobilized by a medieval kingdom. Que-Toyne couldn't even field a quarter of that number."

"Indeed," replied Itami, feeling concerned. The Saderian army was much smaller and still posed a serious problem to clear out. He shuddered at the thought of the "Polish" Gate being used by the Lourians. How many civilians would have died on that fateful day if it were the Lourians and not the Saderians who entered Ginza?

Even now, they couldn't account for all the casualties, which numbered in the tens of thousands. He never intended to find out what damage a two-million-strong army from the western Middle Ages could have caused.

The Hetman noticed Itami's grim thoughts. "I see you're wondering, what if the Lourians entered your world?"

The Japanese man only looked him in the eyes before looking elsewhere again.

"Son," the older man began, and Itami looked at him. "If I may speak frankly, of course."

"You may," Itami quickly replied.

"Good," said Wiekier. "Son, I have good advice. Leave the speculation to armchair generals, historians, poets, and novelists. Instead of worrying about what if, just focus on what is. Less stress, clearer thinking. And above all, create solutions for existing problems, not those that exist solely in someone's mind."

Itami nodded silently. In a way, the old Pole was right. "You're right. I better think about whether there are any noteworthy manga from your world!"

Wiekier laughed, seeing the change in Itami's attitude. Then he asked, "What is manga?"

Itami was surprised. "Well, you know, in the West, we call our comics manga."

Wiekier understood and then rolled his eyes. "Really? We always call any picture story a comic, regardless of the country it comes from."

"Even from Japan?" Itami was taken aback.

"Even from Nipponia!" Wiekier replied. "My son likes Nipponese comics, so I know something about it. I've never heard him or any of his friends who like them call them anything other than comics," he added after a while, recalling his son's favorite comics.

"Interesting," Itami said. "I have to remember that for the future." He was very curious about what pop culture from Hetman's world the Japanese had invented. What games, comics, or animations were created and which ones didn't exist in his world? Of course, this wasn't the only Japan that interested him.

The Japan that also existed in Arcadia was also the subject of his interest. However, he knew all too well that someone else would be the first to visit that Japan. Not that he was complaining; he didn't mind the extra work.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly felt a tremor, and moments later, the sound of an explosion reached his ears along with the shattered glass carried by the shockwave.

"Kurwa, what's happening?" the Hetman cursed in Polish. Itami didn't know what he said, although he had already become well acquainted with the distinctive expletive.

Instead, he immediately rushed to the window, which provided a great view to the west of Gim. As soon as he saw a large cloud of gray smoke covering the trenches, he knew things were bad.

"General, I report that the Lourians have launched a general assault," Itami automatically said, disregarding the fact that Wiekier was the Hetman, not a general, and not his superior. But he didn't care about that now; it wasn't the time or place, especially since the shrill cries, belonging to Lourian dragons, heralded an aerial strike.

Itami clicked his tongue as he saw nearly the entire sky in front of him being covered by the air forces.

"I understand, Lieutenant," Wiekier said without delay. "Go gather your men and prepare for defense. Meanwhile, I will call for reinforcements." Itami nodded silently, then rushed out of the office, calling Kuwahara on his portable radio along the way.

Meanwhile, the Hetman quickly activated the radio station in his office and connected with the unit being prepared for a counterattack or precisely for such an occasion. The third and fourth artillery divisions of the 11th Regiment should be an effective solution to these problems.


March 20, Anno Domini 2022

Principality of Que-Toyne
Pilar Village



The Star trucks with WR-40 Langusta rocket launchers, which had been sitting silently until now, came to life. For weeks, the artillerymen operating these launchers had been forced to watch their comrades having fun while they were left with tedious work. Most of the time, they helped the logisticians transport ammunition to the Krab, so no brilliant ideas would scare them.

Now everything was about to change; the Krabs were put on standby, waiting for precise fire support requests. Meanwhile, the role of the main suppressor was to be taken over, as it should have been, by the Langustas.

All the Langustas were armed with M-21FK Feniks-Z missiles, which had cluster warheads. Just like Poland in our world, the Commonwealth did not disarm itself from cluster munitions.

On the other hand, in the world of the Commonwealth, there weren't too many prohibited weapons or international disarmament treaties. In fact, there were only two such treaties, the prohibition of chemical weapons and biological weapons, signed in 1924 and 1935, respectively. Other than that, everything was permitted.

One Langusta has over 40 barrels with a caliber of 122 millimeters. When combined with the fact that one division has over 18 Langustas, it results in over 720 rockets fired in a single salvo within 20 seconds. And with two divisions preparing to fire, over 1440 rockets will rain down on the Lourians within 40 seconds. A deadly firepower.

Colonel Weiss personally made sure that the launchers reported their readiness as quickly as possible. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long; only four minutes passed from the combat alarm to the readiness report for firing.

He informed the Headquarters that he was ready to fire the salvo. He didn't have to wait for permission to open fire; as soon as he pressed the button in his command post, he received the fire zone.

He had to admit it was quite extensive; in fact, he received the order to destroy everything from the forest near Gim to the first line of trenches. That covered an area of twenty square kilometers to be turned into a battlefield by the rockets. Let's add that there was another smaller fire zone indicated on the Topaz, placed along the path between the trees, with orders to use incendiary projectiles.

Weiss saw that the Langustas would have some fun shooting. It didn't bother him; after all, he was an artilleryman. And like every artilleryman, he enjoyed blowing things up.

Without hesitation, he provided the coordinates to the launchers and then gave the order to open fire. First the third division, then the fourth, as soon as the third division's rockets were depleted. As soon as he heard the distinctive sound of the launched rockets, he quietly said,

"Surprise, motherfuckers!"


Moments later
Gim City Walls



The third reconnaissance unit assembled on the designated section of the wall, one of the remaining pieces of fortification surrounding the town. The Lourians played a nasty trick and blew up a significant portion of the city's fortifications and tore through the field fortifications in front of the city.

Itami clearly saw how the Toynian units were retreating from the trenches in front of the city, often leaving behind heavier equipment. The enemy chose the right moment; the watch was held by the locals instead of the Prusians who were resting in the city, awaiting their turn.

From what he learned, the Lourians used spells on a massive scale, much greater than anyone had expected. First, they used spells commonly classified as siege-mining spells, responsible for demolishing parts of the walls and destroying the field fortifications.

Then, under the cover of artificial fog, they launched their attack, also utilizing underground tunnels. As soon as the Lourians emerged from the tunnels, they revealed themselves and showed how audaciously they approached the enemy, neutralizing the range advantage.

Itami had the chance to see a few of these tunnels on this side of the wall. Elite Lourian units, using camouflage spells, infiltrated the city and created chaos as soon as they struck.

Before reaching his own troops, Itami had to fight through a few of those who had targeted the headquarters. They were really troublesome bastards; it took half a magazine of P9 to kill just one of them. Fortunately, the Type-64 was far more effective.

By the way, he had the opportunity to witness the deadly effectiveness of the so-called Hunters. Strangely enough, they all looked like women, and quite unassuming at that. Nevertheless, they could easily grab a fully armored knight by the neck and lift him with one hand, then snap his neck and toss him around like a sack of potatoes.

He was glad to have them on his side.

"I'm running out of ammo!" Kurata shouted.

Itami stopped shooting, reached for a magazine on the table, and threw it to Kurata.

"Thanks!" Kurata exclaimed, reloading his weapon. He tossed the empty magazine back to Itami, who caught it and handed it to a half-human woman with cat ears.

Her name was Mini, one of the medics assigned ad hoc to his team, but the need for ammunition prompted Itami to change her assignment, using gestures, of course. He didn't know if she had a translator or a spell, but anyone could understand hand gestures.

Instead of treating the wounded, which was doubtful as they sat on a nearly ten-meter-high wall using blankets as shields, she served as an ammunition supplier. She loaded new rounds into empty magazines from the JSDF crates nearby.

She was immensely helpful, quickly and efficiently replenishing the shortage. Thanks to her, the third team could keep firing at the attackers, covering the retreating Toynians.

"Damn fog, can't see anything through it!" Shino growled, realizing at the last moment that she was aiming at an ally.

"Note that for the report, thermal vision is essential here," Itami murmured to himself in response to her remark.

"When will the artillery support finally arrive?" Corporal Daisuke Tozu shouted, and then everyone heard the distinctive sound of rockets whistling.

"Did you say something?" Kurata joked, but his expression changed when hell broke loose.

The first salvo detonated above the ground, and hundreds of thousands of projectiles rained down, unleashing carnage. The Japanese soldiers witnessed countless explosions and heard a cacophony of screams. The explosion smoke mixed with the fog, creating a grim atmosphere of horror.

No one fired their weapons; some even winced at the spectacle. After a moment, another salvo came, exploding farther away, continuing the apocalypse.

It lasted a brief moment, but they were certain that this wave of attack had been broken.

"What was that?" Kurata asked.

"Cluster munitions. It's surprising we didn't bring them to Alnus," Itami explained.

"Too much risk. After such a salvo, there are plenty of unexploded bomblets that act like mines, posing a threat to everyone. We want operational freedom," Kuwahara pointed out.

Itami nodded. He was well aware of the drawbacks of that weapon; after all, it was the reason for the ongoing campaign against it. He himself didn't have a high opinion of it; yes, it was cruel, but on the other hand, it was effective. One such salvo could destroy an entire enemy offensive.

"So, are we in the clear?" asked Senior Sergeant Tetsuya Nishina.

Itami took out his binoculars to try to see the enemy camp. Then he clicked his tongue. "Not yet. The enemy intends to continue their advance."

"Madmen! Do they know what they're getting into?" replied Kurata.

"Apparently so. They're up to something," replied Itami, noticing the distinctive attire of the mages who started doing something.

The entire third platoon looked at their commander, who just glanced at them before returning to his observation. Suddenly, something caught his attention. He observed it for a moment and then spoke up.

"Kuwahara, take Topaz. I see a VIP that needs to be taken care of by the Krabs. I'll give you the coordinates."

Kuwahara took Topaz. He was one of the two Japanese soldiers in the platoon who knew how to operate it, the other being Itami. Not that it was difficult; in fact, it was incredibly simple. Anyone who can operate a tablet can do it without a problem.

The problem lies in the device's language. It's only in Polish, so one has to memorize what to click and how to call for support. You could say it's like playing a Japanese version of a gacha game without knowing a single character of Japanese.

Kuwahara waited for Itami. After a moment, Itami spoke...


At the same time Gim Outskirts


Hark gazed ahead, over 50,000 people were obliterated by two rocket salvos. Monstrous rockets that break into thousands of small fragments that explode upon hitting the ground. He didn't regret them; they were the worst of the worst. They had been purposely sent as the first wave.

"They've been playing with us this whole time," Hark said after a while, and none of his aides could disagree. "They had a secret weapon ready all along, capable of wiping us out in one strike. Why didn't they do it?"

He asked himself. No one dared to answer.

Hark snorted. "It's rather obvious. They were waiting for a messenger, with a request for a truce. When we showed that we'd rather die than surrender, they showed us what they're capable of."

Then he drew his sword and grabbed something resembling a microphone in his other hand.

"SOLDIERS! THIS IS YOUR FINAL ORDER. MARCH WITH ME TOWARDS THIS DAMNED CITY. MY FALL MARKS THE END OF YOUR OBLIGATION. ONCE THAT HAPPENS, YOU HAVE FULFILLED YOUR DUTY TOWARDS ME."

Then he threw the microphone to the ground and shouted, "Forward!" with a theatrical sword gesture. Not that anyone outside of the guard could see that gesture. Then he charged forward at full speed, followed by his guards. The ground was filled with the clatter of horse hooves and soldiers' boots.

Behind Hark, at a considerable distance, the cavalry rode, followed by the regular infantry. The dissipating fog revealed the full force of the assault.

Meanwhile, the mages unleashed all their power on the magical barriers, removing them from the camp and exposing it to the attack. They hadn't done it earlier due to a lack of magical stones and mages to simultaneously protect the advancing army and the camp.

Now, in the frenzied assault, the camp's defense was meaningless. They could sacrifice what remained to shield the army.

Unfortunately, there was a small gap. The shield protected the troops behind Hark but not Hark and his entourage.

That's why a 155mm projectile fired from the Krab easily hit and exploded on the ground behind him, while the cluster ammunition shattered against the shield. Hark felt the shockwave throwing him off his horse, killing the unfortunate animal, and fragments penetrating his armor.

Then Hark felt a tug and disappeared. Along with him, his entire retinue vanished, obliterated by an artillery grenade.

The soldiers riding horses and those running behind Hark were taken by surprise by the sudden fall of their King. The riders abruptly stopped, causing collisions among themselves. The same happened to the infantry when the front lines halted upon seeing the cavalry in front of them stop. The front rows were hit from behind, causing them to fall and trip everyone else.

The entire offensive came to a halt. Those who remained on their feet looked at each other. News quickly spread from the cavalry to the infantry and from the infantry to the rear. And from the rear to the command.

The Lourians didn't know what to do. The King's order was clear: when he dies, the order to attack Gim is no longer valid. Moreover, it means they have fulfilled their duty and can do as they please.

But it was quite obvious that they didn't want to die. Lourians quickly started discussing among themselves, many wondering what to do next.

"The King sacrificed himself for us."

"But why did he do it?"

"To end this senseless massacre."

"So, what now?"

"It seems obvious. We should go back home. That's what the King asked for. That's why he deliberately positioned himself at the very front, ahead of us."

Such conversations took place among them. Then the first units began to retreat. First the cavalry, then the infantry. The defenders, stunned by the whole event, silently watched as the Lourians started leaving the battlefield.


Gim's Walls


"What did we just witness?" Shino said.

"The honorable death of their King. That's what made them stop," Itami explained.

"But..." Shino began, "it's abnormal how quickly they found out! The Golden One barely fell, and shortly after, the cavalry stopped."

"They planned it," Kuwahara stated confidently.

Shino looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Kuwahara looked back at her. "Remember, their units attacked over and over throughout the day, only to be mowed down by artillery. Today's first wave was an example, but the next one, after a few minutes, was already shielded. Very powerful shields. However, strangely enough, their ruler wasn't protected. It's not a coincidence!"

"If they had such shields, why didn't they use them earlier?" Kurata asked.

"Who said they didn't use them? They were constantly protecting their camp! That's why sniper rifle shots or artillery shrapnel couldn't do anything to the place they were attacking from. That's why Hark could confidently stand on that hill!" Nishina spoke up, recalling the Prussians' complaints about how the enemy seemed invulnerable to attacks from that hill to their camp.

"Nevertheless, it doesn't explain why they didn't do it until now," Shino pointed out.

"It's simple," Itami interjected. "The spell Sh'chit Viwi, which means City Shield, is extremely demanding." His unit looked at him.

"Can you explain?" Shino asked.

Itami sighed. "It's a variation of the classic Sh'chit spell used for protection against attacks. This version of the spell is often used to protect cities and is employed for defending camps during wars. It's the most powerful version of the spell, providing all-encompassing protection. However, it requires a significant number of mages who must continuously cast the spell and magical stones to power it—constant replenishment."

"That's why it's used situationally, only in the face of direct threats. It's rarely used for defensive assaults because it's challenging to maneuver such a spell. That's why much weaker versions with a significantly smaller area of effect are used for direct defense. Hence, these spells are primarily employed on ships."

"Or on special armor," Kurata remarked, recalling the Lourian saboteurs who wore sponge-filled suits to absorb projectiles.

"Yes, but they are very expensive and, more importantly, rare," Itami said.

The third unit nodded silently. Their contemplation was interrupted by Mini.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant, what now?" she said in Japanese. She knew the language from her previous work with the Japanese.

Itami was surprised. "You speak Japanese?" Not without reason, he had been forced to communicate through sign language.

"Yes, but there hasn't been an opportunity to use it," Mini replied with disarming honesty. "Just follow me, load magazines, and so on." She spoke with remarkable fluency, which was why she had joined the Japanese team, imitating Itami's exaggerated gestures.

Shino chuckled sarcastically, while Itami held his head in his hands. The unit laughed along, witnessing the commander's despair.


An hour later

Kingdom of Louria

Rindol Bay



Hark, feeling sore, lay in his bed in the cabin of his ship. It was a small and agile brig called Lupuria, a secret toy he used when he didn't want to attract attention and just wanted to relax.

The golden armor he had worn for the past two weeks lay nearby. It was now a useless piece of scrap. It was never designed to withstand such a blow, but it had fulfilled its purpose.

Hark snorted at the thought of what the old Armorer, Jort, who took care of the equipment in the Royal Armory, would say. Thanks to him, when Hark was a child, he found it deep in the crates.

It had belonged to some hero named Toya Mocizki. A famous hero with a magical box who led a rebellion of half-humans against one of his great-grandfathers. He was known for having a decent harem and being like a demigod. Eventually, he lost, and his magical armor ended up in the hands of the kings of Louria.

"What happened to Mocizki?" you might ask. What could have happened? He was punished severely. His women were brutally skinned in front of him, impaled, dismembered, and then the remaining parts were cooked and he was forced to eat them.

Then he suffered the same fate, although what was left of his body was thrown to the lions to devour. Allegedly, he was known for his incredible endurance and regeneration, so he continued to live even as a torso. So he was devoured alive by lions for a couple of weeks.

A vile story with a profoundly instructive moral: don't pretend to be a hero, or you'll end up like him. Hark disliked that story; it always gave him nightmares of a dark-haired man with pleading eyes screaming for mercy.

Nevertheless, the armor itself was an intriguing rarity. It generated a personal shield, powered solely by the magic in its surroundings. It was resistant to almost any weapon, only magical blades could pierce it, and it protected against the weather. And most importantly, it had an evacuation system that teleported the user to a designated safe location.

Only thanks to it did he survive. It transported him directly to a small hidden cove, where his most personal and trusted people were waiting for him. Thanks to their immediate response, they managed to save him from his wounds. However, the scars he received had changed him beyond recognition.

Actually quite useful, no one will be able to recognize him. Fortunately for his favorite lovers, it was actually more alluring. Their man turned out to be a warrior who feared no death.

"So, what now, Darling?" the first one asked. Lupusia, a half-human with wolf-like features. She had ashen hair and gray eyes, which complemented her tail and ears. A nicely healed scar ran across her right eye, a memento from her days as a Gladiator in the arenas. That's where he found her and bought her from her previous owner.

"Just what do we do now? You won't leave what Ludius did unanswered, right?" the second one said, this time a half-fox. Her name was Lewicja. She had fiercely red hair, and equally red ears, but her tail had been cut off by one of her previous owners. Her eyes were violet, devouring him time and time again.

Hark nodded his head. "For what he did? For the deaths of so many people in vain? For the humiliation I suffered?" His eyes burned with anger. "Ludius will pay!" he exclaimed, then calmed down. "But it's not the time for that. This mongrel won't escape anywhere. For now, let's enjoy ourselves and prepare for the day of revenge."

Those two didn't need to be encouraged twice.
 

ATP

Well-known member
Good chapter,but why Poland use still 122mm rocket? they should go to 220-300mm instead.
Too little range,and small warheads.

Our Poland should start producing them long ago,too.Even Belaruss are now making them! /Polonez/
 

Batrix2070

RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
Good chapter,but why Poland use still 122mm rocket? they should go to 220-300mm instead.
Too little range,and small warheads.
This is a different class of bullets, the former. Because they are cheap, mass-produced missiles. Incidentally, their name is a copy-paste of those rockets from our world. They have identical parameters.

The second, I have mentioned many times in history that the Commonwealth does not prefer guided missiles and they are of average quality.

Which, combined with laser weapons, which have become the primary weapon very quickly in this world, makes guided missiles suffer in effectiveness, making them realistically several generations behind.

To put it simply, barely after the first generation, weapons capable of fighting them were developed, which of course limited their development, because the cost/effectiveness is not as effective as in our world.

Small size guided missiles for example anti-tank/anti-aircraft are comparable to ours.

But larger ones are much worse. Because Lasers effectively deal with them.

So such Belarus, can have these Polonezes of theirs, their effectiveness will not be greater than those of the Poles, because lasers will effectively eliminate them.

Look at Operation Nadciągająca Burza, the Wróbels used guided bombs, not missiles! Quite different from the American Air Force which would have bombed the city using missiles.
 
  • Like
Reactions: ATP

Users who are viewing this thread

Top