Two White Eagles (Nihonkoku Shoukan fic)

Prologue
  • Batrix2070

    RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
    25 March 1638 Central Calendar Years
    The Dragon Kingdom of Eimor
    Hall of Fortune


    Thirty-five of the most powerful Dragonids gathered, as they do every year, according to their traditional calendar, on the first day of the new year, which is every two human years, to begin divination to show the future that the Gods had shown them so that they would know what to prepare for to protect their people from destruction.

    They had been doing so for over ten human millennia when the Ancient Warlock Empire both challenged the Gods and nearly exterminated their entire race drawing divine wrath upon themselves.

    The Free Peoples were just a hair's breadth away from defeat, fortunately the Gods, breaking the powerful spells that held them in check, unleashed their wrath in a swarm of shooting stars. Just when everyone thought that the Warlocks were about to fall, they once again displayed their prowess and, using their mastery of the same techniques that brought them here, they fled, leaving behind their slaves and the malicious tablet that proclaimed they would return, for they had gone into the future.

    The slaves of the Warlocks made their lives miserable for years, but thanks to the Hiromarians, special emissaries of the Sun God, they destroyed them. In this way, the world could rebuild itself for the next ten thousand years.

    According to the diviners of earlier years, the time for the return of the Ancient Evil was approaching, hence preparations for the next Great War began in the Dragon Kingdom. And each annual divination ceremony was eagerly awaited and all divinations meticulously recorded in books.

    When the thirty-five lined up in the designated circles in five circles of seven each, the intoning of the incantation began. To ordinary people it sounded like an inhuman howl that sent shivers down their spines and was meaningless. For the Eimorians, who were composed entirely of Dragonids, it was wonderful music, for their ears heard those sounds which are inaudible to human hearing and which formed the bulk of their words in their language. Thus no man has ever mastered their speech, but the Dragonids have mastered human speech, though with considerable difficulty.

    Eimorian, on the other hand, is the last living language of the Dragonids, the others having died out centuries ago either as a result of ancient warfare or due to human expansion into their territories.

    As the intonation ended, suddenly a quasi-mirror appeared above them. They looked up, and then began the next part of the divination. And the Chief Diviner began to watch.

    He saw another world. Great and beautiful, suspended in an infinite space of stars. Then the image approached the earth, accelerating rapidly to hover high in the eastern part of the world above a chain of islands. He saw it from above, a country plunged into night and its surface lit up in many places as if it were daytime.

    Then the image changed to that of the surface level. He saw ships in the harbor, great glass buildings reaching for the sky, and many vehicles that moved on roads without horses to pull them.

    The chief diviner stared as if captivated by this strange place for a moment before the sun rose over the country, lighting up the city with its rays. One of its rays made him follow it with his eyes until he came upon a flag with a red circle on a white background.

    The diviner's eyes widened in astonishment as he recognized this flag. The ancient flag of the Hiromarians, emissaries of the Sun God! Then he saw ships setting off with the more familiar Hiromarian banner, then the sky was pierced by planes and on the ground he saw armies marching against something that looked like it was pulled from ancient myths and legends of the Ancient War.

    The diviner was concerned. The gods had warned them and given them hope. The warlocks would return but the Hiromarians would come to their rescue. And just as he was about to let the thirty-five end their repeated invocations he suddenly felt his vision crack and he was swept into the middle of it, barely hearing the groans of pain among those gathered to cast the spell.

    But he was too concerned with what he was seeing. And he was suddenly in the middle of a Himorian city, standing in the middle of the road and staring at a building with a large Gate. A quick look around to the side showed that the Hiromarians were looking at it as well, and looking from the looks on their faces, this building was not likely part of the city.

    Suddenly there was a great crash and the Gate opened. And from its black depths came the roar of a war trumpet. Then armed soldiers of an unknown country came out, although he knew that according to current military trends no one used shields and swords on a mass scale anymore.

    Well, maybe except the barbarians from the far east, but they remain outside the civilized part of the world. The soldiers were standing in formation, someone on horseback apparently their commander started shouting in their language. He did not know it, but his speech sounded similar to Parpaldian.

    The people around him apparently did not know what he was saying either, and some of them took out strange flat boxes and aimed at the soldiers. Suddenly something which people call a shiver went through him, and after a while he heard the strings of bows being tightened. Then the one on horseback, as he understood, was a little angry with the lack of reaction to him, so he gave the order to attack.

    In turn next moments remained in his memory until the day of his death. He saw unknown soldiers charging forward and starting to massacre inhabitants. The first skirmishes between the local defense forces and the invaders.

    Then more clashes throughout the city, rapes, robberies and kidnappings. All in a matter of seconds. Then he saw strange flying machines with propellers at the top. They looked nothing like Milishiant's or Mu's planes, but it was impossible for him to see their effectiveness because his vision broke again.

    This time he saw two images as if overlapping. For a moment or so he heard a crackling sound and saw a black and white flicker before the image came into focus after a strong shot. On both he could see a flag with a coat of arms on it.

    On the left a White double-headed eagle with a golden crown on its head and a more ornate one above it. It looked predatory as if it had claws in its blood and the eyes of a dangerous predator. In his talons he held a sword and a shield with a golden vertical stripe crossed by two horizontal ones.

    In turn the one on the right looked much less disturbing. It also consisted of a white but single-headed eagle with its own crown on its head, while next to it, in the adjacent grid, there was a knight on horseback with a sword and a shield identical to the one in claws on the first coat of arms. This coat of arms, in contrast to the first one, consisted of four fields in the order from left: Eagle-Knight-Knight-Eagle. It was surrounded by a golden rim and above the checkerboard was a visible crown. The eagle looked proud but not sinister.

    The flags on which both coats of arms were displayed were quite similar. Both had three rows, the one with the two-headed eagle was white-red-gold, while the other was red-white-red.

    Then when he looked at the two symbols, the image changed and instead of flags there were fiery words. The diviner was amazed. The gods rarely gave their divination in text form, they usually showed quite obvious pictures. Whenever they showed sentences instead, it meant that a catastrophe would befall the world.

    The last time this happened was over 10 dragon years ago. Warning Eimor of the outbreak of the Fourth Civilization War and demanding his neutrality towards the warring parties though with favor towards Mu.

    The fortune teller paused for a moment to read the ancient and, worse, no longer used Dragonid alphabet which had been supplanted by the much simpler human alphabet. He was one of the few using it.

    In turn the text read as follows.

    THERE GO TWO WHITE EAGLES

    ONE DROWNED IN BLOOD, ETERNAL INVADER, SUPPRESSOR OF PEOPLES

    ONE OF HIS OWN BLOOD BLED, THE ULTIMATE DEFENDER, THE PEOPLES PROTECTING

    THEY ARE UNITED BY LANGUAGE AND BEGINNING, DIVIDED BY END AND MIDDLE

    AND BETWEEN THEM A SAKURA IMPRISONED ON HER SUNNY THRONE

    HAVE NEVER MET, AND NOW THEY WILL HAVE TO MEET

    TO FIGHT THE ANCIENT EVIL TOGETHER

    SAKURA MUST USE ITS DARKNESS AND LIGHT

    SHE WILL BE HELPED BY ANOTHER THROUGH THE LOCKED GATE

    BUT FIRST HE MUST OVERTHROW THE FALSE GODS

    AND THE EMPIRE THEY HELPED TO CREATE TOPPLED

    THEN THE FALSE BARRIER IS CURSED

    AND THE ANNIHILATION WILL BE UNDONE

    BUT BE AWARE

    FOR PRIDE SPREADS ITS TENTACLES AND THE LAST WISH OF THE FALSE

    CAN DIVIDE THE EAGLES INTO TWO CAMPS

    AND WITH THEM THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE VAST

    As he read and carved the words into his head, the vision was undone and he could see what damage had been done. He could see mages scattered about, and the building too looked as if a tornado had passed through it. Candles, benches, parchments, and other items had been knocked over and scattered.

    But still he did not watch longer than necessary, and instead of helping to raise the fallen, he quickly rushed to the Dragon King, who was watching the whole ceremony from his throne.

    "Your Highness" He called out in a loud voice "I have news from the Gods and it is very important!"

    "What are they diniver?" The Dragon King asked in his deep tone.

    In turn, the fortune teller recounted what he had seen to his ruler. Each sentence slowly lowered the King's satisfaction. And when the diviner had recited to the end the text which the gods had given him the King closed his eyes for a moment to reflect on what he had heard. In the meantime, the battered mages arose, the more injured were sent for medical attention, and the hall returned to the order it had been before the ceremony began.

    As the last benches were set up the King opened his blinders and replied to his subject. "Diviner, you are to begin preparations to meet these White Eagles and returning Himorians. Something tells me we don't have much time until we meet them. And since they are returning that means the Warlocks are returning as well, we must be ready for their arrival."

    The diviner bowed, "As you command, Your Highness," and then called some of his assistants to spread the word to the appropriate people in the country and abroad.

    And when the diviner had left the room. The King rose from his throne and went to his chambers, for the whole ceremony was to take place in the King's palace. Quickly he made his way along the corridors which separated him from his goal, and then ordered the guards to remain at the door, while he himself went inside.

    There was no one in the room, and this was not surprising as it was the ruler's personal room and office in one, which served as a kind of solitude. He quickly made his way to the bar and pulled out a glass bottle and a glass. In the bottle was the best wine from faraway Louria, which produced very good spirits. And as much as he hated those damned arrogant assholes and racists, he had to admit that they knew how to make wine.

    He poured enough wine into the glass to fill it up, and then took and drank it in one gulp. With that he calmed his nerves, which were quite active when he heard what the diviner had seen. As he set the glass down he muttered under his breath. "I hope at least these guys make good wine."
     
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    Here is the Commowealth
  • Batrix2070

    RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
    Si non iurabis, non regnabis.(If you do not swear, you will not reign.)-Chancellor Jan Zborowski to the elected but not reigned Henry de Valois who after these words refused the Polish Crown.

    Commowealth/Rzeczpospolita,
    Crown of the Kingdom of Poland
    Warsaw, Capital City of the Rzeczpospolita
    August 15 Anno Domini 2020
    Royal Castle


    Witold Czartoryski also known as Witold II the King of Poland, Grand Duke of Lithuania, Muscovy, et cetera, et cetera looked at what was happening in front of him with a headache clinging to him since the morning.

    His ministers in the central government, although there were only seven of them, made a mess equal to that of the ministers of all the states of the Rzeczpospolita who meet once a year to discuss together with the central government and the King what to do next and to discuss the situation in their countries.

    One should know that the Commowealth is not a homogeneous country, unlike the United States of Mexico, which has a federal government and elected state governors, where the individual states have considerable autonomy but still are not as independent as those in the Rzeczpospolita.

    The Rzeczpospolita on formal and legal grounds is in a kind of supra-national state, which unites and allows to conduct a relatively uniform policy of individual states composing it.

    Where ultimately the states are nevertheless purely administrative entities, the constituent parts of the Rzeczpospolita are de facto separate countries united by a common Sejm, monarch, currency, flag and foreign and defence policy. The army, the administration, the judiciary and the treasury remain separate, although reforms at the turn of the 18th and 19th centuries created a central treasury to cover expenses that individual states were unwilling or unable to bear.

    It is from the Central Treasury that the costs of financing the central administration, interstate infrastructure, foreign policy and the costs of modernizing the Armed Forces of the Rzeczpospolita are incurred.

    In turn, the upkeep of the military falls on the individual constituent states, their colonial expeditions are also borne out of their own pockets, and those things that the central government simply does not have to do for them.

    You know, schools, pension and health systems, less important infrastructure and things like that. That, of course, allows the Commonwealth, as a Central government, to focus its attention on what's important and throw more money at it than other countries.

    Of course, this has the negative effect of pounding on taxes and the money from them between the central and national governments.

    Why do I mention this? Because in a way it was about this again, and because money is limited ministers are trying to convince each other why they should invest in this and not others. The problem with this is that everyone considers their own project more important than others and tries to convince others to themselves.

    Witold gratefully took an aspirin for his headache from his courtier and his right hand man Sławomir Wolff and senator from the Malbork voivodeship. He quickly took the medicine and sipped water.

    He waited a moment for the medicine to take effect and when his headache lessened he thanked his friend. Then he rose loudly from his chair. The sound drew the attention of his ministers to him. They suddenly became quiet and looked at him carefully.

    "Is something wrong, Your Majesty?" The Grand Chancellor of the Rzeczpospolita Jan Piłsudski asked on behalf of everyone at the table. Witold only raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Are you asking what happened? The King asked calmly although one could see that his eyebrow was raised slightly.

    "I wonder at you. Have you no shame to bicker like little children in the four hundred-plus years of this office? What would your predecessors say about you?" Said the King while showing pictures of the most prominent ministers throughout the history of the Greatest Rzeczpospolita as the Poles often said about their country.

    Among them were such peculiarities as the Great Crown Chancellor Jan Zamojski, a great Rzeczpospolitaan and creator of the political system of the Rzeczpospolita, which destroyed aristocratic titles except for a few princely ones and de facto laid the groundwork for voter equality.

    Sub-Chancellor of the Crown Hugo Kołłątaj Enlightenment reformer of the political system of the Rzeczpospolita to its present more centralized state, serving under the first King from the Czartoryski dynasty.

    The Grand Hetman of the Rzeczpospolita, Józef Piłsudski, who thanks to his abilities ended the madness of the First Great War, which was the only war of its kind in which the Commowealth participated, brought down the short-lived hydra of the German union led by Bohemia and carried out the first successful invasion of England since the days of William the Conqueror, crushing their vast empire.

    Besides them there were other less famous but not less important ministers. As for example Żupnik, (the equivalent in other countries of the minister of mining or something similar), Ignacy Łukasiewicz creator of the oil power of the Rzeczpospolita and the main responsible for the industrialization of Siberia until his time sparsely populated.

    He turned this insignificant region into a real gold mine and a source of self-sufficiency for Polish industry.

    Every minister of merit had a painting hanging in this office, and their number was quite large and had already reached the ceiling. Some people said that this made it necessary to either enlarge the gabinet or find a bigger room.

    "Frankly, I think they would rather just sigh because nothing has changed since their time." Said the Grand Hetman of the Rzeczpospolita Kazujasu Piłsudski, grandson of Józef's brother Bronisław who married an Ainu on the island of Hokkajdo hence the unusual Japanese name. Initially the young couple lived on the island where Bronisław researched Ainu culture, but as a result of the Polish-Japanese War in 1905 he was forced to leave the island.

    He succeeded thanks to the political influence of his more established brothers. Although he lived and died in Japan, his first-born son, not long after Kazujasu was born, decided to take advantage of his uncle Józef's offer and came to the Rzeczpospolita.

    Here young Kazujasu was greatly influenced by the story of his uncle Ziuk (as Piłsudski is popularly called) and enlisted in the Lithuanian army like him to eventually become the commander of the entire armed forces of the Rzeczpospolita. One could say that he became like his idol. And the Great Chancellor was his cousin from his uncle Józef's side.

    As for the role of the Grand Hetman, he is both the supreme commander of all the armies of the constituent states of the Rzeczpospolita and the equivalent of the Minister of Defense or War in other countries.

    As for the rest, it may be better to introduce them as well as their duties. Let's start with the King, who in the Polish political system plays the role of prime minister and president in one. This is the result of the reforms of Kazimierz V the Wise, who together with Kołłątaj introduced the tripartite division of power, sorting out the not-so-clear competences of both the King and the Sejm, which were frankly getting in each other's way.

    The Grand Chancellor of the Rzeczpospolita is the Minister of Foreign Affairs. He is responsible for sending deputies, signing declarations of war and international agreements. More importantly, he is the keeper of the seal with which important state documents are signed and he runs the royal chancellery.

    The sub-chancellor of the Rzeczpospolita is theoretically his deputy, but over time this minister became more involved in culture, sports and education, trying to organize the not-so-formal system of education to teach the skills necessary as a formal minimum.

    The Grand Marshal of the Rzeczpospolita is the most important minister. He serves as Minister of the Interior as well as Justice. It is to him that the Royal Tribunal, the Commonwealth Police, the Special and Secret Service are answerable. And many other organizations at the central level.

    The Marshal was his deputy in many of these matters, but over time he began to fill the role of ministers responsible for industry, infrastructure, . It should be noted that technically these areas are subordinate to the Grand Marshal. The same as the field of the Sub-Chancellor and in case of need they can replace the Great if they are not appointed or are unavailable and vice versa.

    Therefore, theoretically, it is possible to reduce the cabinet by three ministers. In practice, nobody does this because it would result in an overload of duties.

    The third dual position is the Treasurer of the Rzeczpospolita. The Grand Treasurer is the equivalent of the Minister of Treasury and Finance. And the Courtier is responsible for social policy, family policy and development policy.

    In addition, there are also special ministers appointed from case to case depending on the needs, such as the aforementioned Żupnik Ignacy Łukasiewicz.

    Before the reform of Kazimierz V there was also the position of Field Hetman, but it was downgraded to a military rank, thus weakening the power of Hetmen over the army.

    Another important thing is the fact that such a division occurs in each constituent country of the Commowealth, so to distinguish them from the central ones an appropriate segment is added to their names.

    Hence, those coming from the Crown of the Kingdom of Poland are called Crown, those from Lithuania are called Lithuanian, those from Prussia, Prussian et cetera et cetera.

    "What don't you say Kazi?" Winked maliciously the Court Treasurer of the Rzeczpospolita Włodzimierz Ziełeński using the diminutive of the popular nickname Kazujasu or Kazimierz. "Yes, yes, you damn comedian, you were better off as a clown in the circus than as a damn treasurer and you know it!" Piłsudski breathed in exasperation.

    Ziełeński waved his hand at that. "Speak your mind." All the king could do was sigh. "Peace children." Said Bishop Jan Dąbrowski of Warmia who was also acting as Grand Marshal.

    Unlike the more secularized British or French, Poles did not think that church dignity precluded being a member of the government or senate. Moreover, to them the separation of church and state sounds damnably illogical.

    And religious tolerance, you ask? Well, Poles went through this stage a long time ago and today they don't give a damn. For today's Poles you can do whatever you want, but if you want to rule and influence the country you have to adapt to the requirements.

    That is, knowledge of the Polish language, familiarity with Polish culture, and the Catholic faith, whether Roman or Greek. Given that the achievement of these three requirements de facto causes the Polonization, in effect, the only foreigners who reach the top are those from the third generation after arrival.

    The exceptions are the members of minorities living permanently in the Rzeczpospolita, that is, the Koronian, Lithuanians, Jews, Ruthenians, Belarusians, Muscovites, Karelians, Permians, Donskoy Cossacks, Crimean and Kazan Tatars, Green Ruthenian, Alaskans, Dalians, Prussians, Latvians, Estonians, Silesians and Pomeranians, as well as the Negroes from Cameroon and Madagascar and the minorities of the native inhabitants of Siberia and Alaska. At their top are the Poles also called Sarmatians.

    These Poles or, as you prefer, Sarmatians, took their name from the main element uniting the Commowealth, the inhabitants of which are much more often called Koronians from the official name of Poland, which is the Crown of the Polish Kingdom.

    In turn, Poles are a kind of Great Nation that combines all these different ethnic minorities into one great cultural nation.

    The main language spoken by all these ethnicities when not among themselves is Połański, which is a separate dialect of the Polish language heavily influenced by Latin, which used to be the main language of communication alongside Polish.

    Over time it was supplanted by this reworked Polish and only in the famous Regnium Poloniae itself is it still used as an official language and for communication.

    In addition, of course, there are other national languages that are increasingly being supplanted by Połański, especially in the big cities. And even these same languages reveal a fair amount of borrowing from Polish and Latin in their speech.

    "Well done, Your Excellency" Said the two ministers to the Bishop in a pensive tone. The Bishop had a reputation for being a good though demanding and loudly dissenting man, especially in the area of personal culture, and was the only one who had previously tried to calm the quarreling ministers, unfortunately without success.

    "Finally, the children are calm." She muttered maliciously to the only woman in their midst. Princess Karolina Maria Radziwiłł who was also the Grand Treasurer. "Or will you have to give them pacifiers in their mouths to keep them quiet?"

    "Daughter, can you not excite the fires of argument again?" The Bishop asked in a calm yet firm tone driving his eyes straight into hers. "Oh there oh there, Father Bishop you can see for yourself that these are big kids who need their mommy." She replied in a dismissive tone then tilted her head "Though it's good that I'm not going to be their mother, I'm not fit for that." She added with a malicious tone.

    The Bishop with all his self-control did not gasp at her, he waited a moment before retorting in the same tone as before. "Indeed I must agree with you, you are still a young child in need of a mother's or father's care the most out of all of us present."

    The Duchess opened her mouth in astonishment for a moment, the answer stunned her, for so far the Bishop had tended to sit quietly or speak obvious platitudes. The others in the study laughed at her expense.

    Though for the King it was rather a forced laugh, his head only hurt less than before, he must have caught some disease or something. And he remembered the warning of the Duchess' father, who told him that his daughter was... a bit eccentric.

    In Witold opinion she is rather childish and too loose, but she knows her job so there is no reason to fire her for now. Contrary to the opinion of many, especially in the famous West, he did not hire her to fight against the old-fashioned and patriarchal social set-up in the Rzeczpospolita. If only they knew that this patriarchy they invented only in their heads does not exist in Poland and the culture is more matriarchal than at first sight Witold thought.

    He was particularly irritated by the opinions of former British colonists in America who, after Britain's defeat in the First Great War, rebelled against Britain as part of a wider communist revolution. Although in Britain itself the rebellion was easily put down with solid support from other countries, in former British America the Mexicans stationed in the captured colonies were driven back as far as the Mississippi River line downstream, while on the north bank they were driven back so far that the Mexicans held only the southwestern portions of former French Louisiana.

    What was formed in the former colonies, on the other hand, was the Union of Workers' States of America or UWSA for short. Only the strong Army, United States of Mexico and the army of the Alashkan Crown Colony kept the Commies locked up in America.

    Ultra progressive country trying unsuccessfully to make a mess everywhere it could and spread its ideology. Recently they have liberalized a bit and taken the path of market communism and thus opened themselves up to the world, effectively becoming a kind of factory of the world. Of course, not all countries went for this. Both the Commonwealth and the United States smelled the writing with their noses and did limited business with them.

    But that doesn't change much in a general sense, and the UWSA has grown rapidly over the past 35 years to become the third largest economy in the world behind Mexico as second and Poland as first.

    The two countries were linked by a military alliance that had lasted since the end of the Second Great War, called the North Pacific Treaty Organization. The Commowealth as a country did not participate in the war by itself, but only by observing and supporting openly every anti-communist force with volunteers and equipment.

    But a couple of constituent countries did. To be precise, only two, the Crown of the Polish Kingdom and its Colonies and the Curonian Principality and its Colonies. The legal loophole was used in this way, according to which both these countries existed after all as separate entities and although traditionally all constituent parts fought as a whole it was not required that they had to take part in the war.

    In this way, any colonial adventurism by the Crown or the Curonian was at their own expense and responsibility. Not everyone in the Polish Rzeczpospolita was interested in the Polish idea of protecting the peoples of Africa from the more exploitative states, hence a loophole was forced upon the Sejm in 1856 which made it so that wars could only be fought by constituent parts of the Rzeczpospolita.

    Witold, in turn, recalling Mexico and the UWSA, turned to Hetman's cousin, Jan Piłsudski. "Janie, remind me what the Mexican ambassador Mr. Tobias Espina asked us to do and the UWSA ambassador Matthew Pittman tried to stop?"

    The Grand Chancellor thought for a moment before replying, "I believe Mr. Espina has asked us on behalf of his government to temporarily halt gas and oil exports to the UWSA in connection with the border incident until the matter is cleared up, and Mr. Pittman has reminded us that his country pays a lot of money for this, and that border incidents happen at least once a week, and that it generally looks ridiculous that we're making a big deal out of this."

    "Again? "She hissed displeased like an exasperated cat Radziwill "If I remember correctly they have been asking us to do this for a long time. Why should we change our minds now?

    "Because this is the first such serious incident in over 40 years?" Bishop interjected, recalling the infamous Fourth of July War when the UWSA suddenly attacked Mexico by surprise.

    The world, according to some, was on the verge of nuclear annihilation, but those around the table knew the truth. Nothing of the sort was imminent, and to make matters worse, the UWSA only wanted to force small concessions from Mexico, but the situation escalated to such an extent that two units at one of the border crossings accidentally opened fire, which the Americans won, so the UWSA leaders, not wanting to embarrass themselves, went on the attack, contrary to Polish-Mexican predictions.

    The war lasted three weeks claiming over one million dead and wounded soldiers, and about two million civilian casualties. Eventually everyone returned to the status quo ante on the U.S.-Mexican border when the Americans, after initial successes, first bogged down around New Orleans and, at the furthest point, reached the Great Salt Lake, from where they were repulsed after heavy fighting for the lakeside town of Ciudad del Lago Salado, which takes its name from the lake.

    Only a solid Polish-Mexican counteroffensive drove the Americans from where they came and even entered their territory where they met the same fate as the Americans on the Mexican side.

    Eventually the front was stabilized along the Mississippi-Cansez line, and probably both sides would have faced heavy trench warfare with rapid attack and defense maneuvers. But popular resistance in all these states was high, too high to afford such fighting, and there was no real will to fight among the elites of the time.

    From there it came to the peace talks and recognition of the need to return to the status quo, with the UWSA recognizing the territories occupied by the Poles during the American Revolution. That is, the Territory of Canada to the city of Regina located just across the Polish-American border.

    Needless to say, this decision was and still remains unpopular in the UWSA? Many want the city to be taken back from the hands of the imperialists, despite the fact that in the last century most of its former inhabitants were polonized or descended from refugees fleeing the red regime and it is the most anti-American and anti-communist city in the Rzeczpospolita.

    In Poland and Mexico alone, this was seen as a missed opportunity to destroy the Communists, although no one believed it would be possible to restore British control over these regions, except perhaps the most out-of-touch British. Fortunately, they are a loud but insignificant minority.

    Therefore Radziwill was greatly astonished when she heard the Bishop's answer. "How... bad is it, and why don't I know about it?"

    Bishop glanced at Colonel Jerzy Englisch, the head of the infamous "Two" Polish military intelligence and counterintelligence agency, who was standing by the wall.

    The colonel, seeing the look in his boss's eyes, replied in his calm voice, "The incident occurred yesterday evening in some wilderness fortunately, it is rumored that two regiments of their border guards were involved in the clash, so far the whole matter has been swept under the rug although rumors are spreading and it is expected that tonight or tomorrow morning both countries will issue a statement in this connection."

    He then paused for a moment before adding "It is predicted that at least 450 men were killed in the battle but the Mexicans are still collecting their dead from the battlefield."

    "Damn it, and what do we do about it?" The hitherto silent Court Marshal Andrzej Duda suddenly spoke up. As soon as those words were spoken Witold felt that something had suddenly happened.

    Only after a moment he realized that the world seemed to have stopped for a moment, and in front of him stood a woman dressed in ancient robes of blue with a red cloak on her shoulders with golden decorations, and on the front of the cloak you could clearly see the coat of arms of the Polish Kingdom.

    On her head, which was wrapped in a blue scarf so that it revealed her fringe, there was a crown, strangely familiar to Witold. Around her head he saw a faint golden halo. Then he looked at her face and saw the face of a beautiful Jewish woman with penetrating blue eyes. Her whole robe was covered with golden lilies and on her face, on her right cheek, Witold felt a strange tingling in his brain and saw two long wounds coming from her nose as if they were made by a sword.

    The next thing the King realized was that she looked sad and sort of angry? Then she spoke in the most beautiful voice he had ever heard, "You will do nothing about it, for you will have no way." It was her expression of sorrow for the slain, righteous anger at the guilty, and anger at someone else but it was beyond Witold' comprehension who.

    Witold, on the other hand, was curious about the phrase, "you won't have a how." With a questioning movement of his head he said, "What do you mean by you will have no how?" The woman grimaced slightly then replied, "Because the machinations of the false goddess have corrupted several worlds." Then her countenance hardened "You will be torn by her mistake from your world and thrown into another, there you will encounter allies and enemies and your actions will change their world."

    Then she pointed her finger at Witold, "And you, Witold son of Paul, will lead my nation, beloved by me in many worlds, into the future. You will lead it through everything with my and God's help against the great evil that has many faces and a few of its faces will be where Poland will go."

    Witold suddenly recognized her then added "And what sort of faces will these be my Queen?" The woman called Queen smiled at the fact that Witold realized who she really was then answered him again with a serious face. "False Gods" Witold heard the clear mockery in her voice "whose face and amusement you must discover, brothers as if behind a distorting mirror in which are reflected the dark faces of the Poles" The King's eyes widened for a moment with fear, what dark face is she talking about? "And the Ancient Sorcerers for whom the lives of others are but toys in their hands and who have challenged the true God and those who men in their ignorance and terror have called Gods seeking to take them and His place." Her last sentence was full of clear disgust.

    "Well..." Witold began "anything else Madam?" The Queen mused for a moment then replied "Yes, one thing, you will discover a certain Gate to another world the key to the riddle of how to destroy the false ones, behind it you will meet other selves but broken and destroyed. Normally in this century they are to gain an important position in the reborn world, after all I told them myself and promised them. However, there will be you. So if you can, raise their spirits and teach them that they are better than they are told." Then she smiled warmly and convincingly at Witold as if she were his mother telling her child that he was smart enough to do something like that on his own.

    Witold nodded with understanding after a moment when he caught what was going on and then asked with some thought, "And when should I expect the Breach? And should I mention what you told me to anyone?"

    The Queen raised her black eyebrows then lifted her right hand and folded her robe to see, to Witold' amazement, a modern watch with hands and then she said, "In five minutes the Rupture will occur, followed by another three when a soldier rushes into the room reporting that everything has been lost. Your job will be to keep everything in order. As for your revelation, you don't have to say anything for now. Maybe when you're old or something, say it or write it down somewhere so people can read it later. Anyway, you'd be surprised how many revelations pop up in a week and no one mentions them."

    "I see." Mumbled Witold guessing one of the reasons for this approach and not the other. The woman in turn bowed and the world suddenly moved forward, Witold quickly looked around but there was no sign of the Queen, as if it were the hallucinations of his aching head... Strange thought Witold, the head that was hurting him suddenly became light and empty and the pain disappeared somewhere.

    He blinked his eyes a few times as if not believing what he felt. But his admiration and thanks to the Queen whose real name he knew was interrupted when the question finally came to his consciousness, "Your Majesty, is everything all right?" Said Duda anxiously.

    "What...?" Asked Witold groggily after a moment correcting himself "I mean all right, I was thinking for a moment." Here Radziwill interposed her three cents, "I think I rather hung up like Ventanas Vista and only now have hung up." After which she began to laugh at a joke which only she understood.

    Witold did not understand much her sense of humor or references to computer operating systems. He had heard that this Ventanas Vista system was famous for its powerful "reliability" to put it nicely. He was not too familiar with these games between technological giants.

    He only understood that the Polish company "Jabłko" was in a fierce battle for customers with the Mexican "Microsuamer" and, taking advantage of this fact, launched its powerful media counteroffensive presenting its products as much better.

    "Karolino..." Her subordinate Ziełeński began with despair in his voice. "Can the Duchess calm down?" He asked anxiously about what she would come up with. And just when the Duchess was about to answer they all suddenly felt a deep earth tremor and the sun outside the window disappeared for a moment. After that they began to feel strange vibrations of the earth.

    "What the hell was that?" Hetman spoke up concerned. "The Americans started a third war?" His cousin chuckled.

    And the soldiers at the entrance to the hall began to be alarmed, and the minor support staff whispered among themselves in terror. King Witold reacted quickly, "Calm down!" He said in an authoritarian tone after which he turned to the Crown Guardsman at the entrance, "Bannerman Nowak, link up with Colonel Szepard and have him quickly secure the Castle and establish a secure link in the command bunker to the Rzeczpospolita headquarters."

    Nowak saluted with a resounding "Understood, Your Majesty." After which he quickly placed his hand on the headset and began asking to be put through to the commander of the Crown Foot Guard Regiment, Jan Szepard.

    And so Witold anxiously counted down the next three minutes secretly noticing that the Bishop was strangely calm. He was like an oasis of peace in a desert of fear. And as soon as the hands counted down the three full minutes the Commander of the Guard entered the study. "Your Majesty I report that the Staff has lost communication with all allies." While he was saying that, the Guardsmen were quickly putting in order where who should go.

    Then quickly the King set off, led by the Colonel together with his government, first to the anti-atomic bunker hidden under the Warsaw Castle. It was located deep subway in the City, below the capital's subway station which also served as a huge shelter for the population above and with which it was connected by a network of underground corridors.

    It was neither easy nor cheap to build this under the city. Unfortunately, Warsaw has the bad luck to be located on very wet land and every digging into the ground deep enough lets water out.

    What's worse, the ground under Warsaw is made not of rocks, which are enough to drill through, but of sand, which makes it necessary to reinforce the whole thing so that it doesn't bury the builders when they go underground with their construction.

    Thus, the construction of the Underground lasted over 50 years, from 1923 to 1963. And according to some it lasts all the time because every now and then something must be repaired so that the tunnels do not collapse. That is why Witold did not like the bunker near Warsaw and preferred the one hidden under Wawel Castle in Cracow which is the capital of the Crown, but unfortunately the capital of the Commowealth is in Warsaw so he has to stay here although he tries to do it as rarely as possible.

    "Colonel Szepard, what's going on?" She asked as they walked down the corridor to the elevator that would lead them straight to Radziwill's command bunker, the Colonel looked over at her then in simple soldierly terms stated. "I have absolutely no fucking clue." A couple of the ministers involuntarily smiled at this, though the Bishop squirmed a bit at this blatant disrespect for the beauty of the Polish language.

    But still he remained silent, knowing perfectly well that this was neither the time nor the place for that. After a while they reached the elevator and from afar they could hear alarm sirens playing a signal warning of a nuclear attack. All in all, Witold thought it was a pretty good idea. This way, the population would be quickly gathered into a network of shelters and subways throughout the country, making it easier to impose a state of emergency.

    The elevator closed quickly when everyone got in and then went down at high speed, but Witold felt it slightly, although he realized that he had had the same feeling a few minutes ago when the sun suddenly disappeared.

    Then the door opened and Witold felt the coldness of the corridor in front of him. The cold and, as he saw on the walls, soaking concrete gave an unpleasant impression. The water, of course, was coming from the pipes that went through the concrete walls and into the sand so the water, as always, flowed out going along the pipes to reach the corridors.

    He could also see, when he got out of the elevator, cables going along the ceiling or on the corners of the walls supplying power to the entire underground complex. From time to time he passed unfamiliar rooms where he saw low- and mid-level officials scurrying about, as well as soldiers who were supposed to be guarding the whole thing. He felt goosebumps every time he passed a fan that connected in a clever way to the city above and at the same time had a huge number of filters that, as far as he knew when he was introduced to the complex, protected it from every possible air contamination in every way known to mankind.

    To what extent this was just a bunch of bullshit and bragging by the designers and builders and to what extent it was true, he did not know. Though every night he prayed not to have to find out. The corridors were quite well lit, although when they passed by the exit to another network of corridors leading to the Warsaw metro, this exit was bathed in darkness, and the guard standing there with a lamp on his forehead made Witold think of a book by the Moscow writer Dymitr Głuchowski who described a post-apo scenario about the remnants of humanity living in the Moscow metro.

    Dark and disturbing and thought-provoking for King, but in the end he liked it. Then he returned again to the reality that the nukes had not fallen and, as he well knew, would not fall.

    They stood in front of a large door made of the most durable composites and which was the main entrance to a four-level and consisting of about 34 rooms complex that served as both an underground command post and a bomb shelter.

    Of course, this was not all, this complex in front of him was barely 1/10 of the whole underground system called "The Underground City". There was such a system under each of the major cities of the Commowealth, although it was not completed everywhere.

    The Warsaw one is still under construction. These Underground Cities were supposed to be a safe shelter in case of a total world catastrophe for elites and city inhabitants, and they are built in such a way that they could accommodate at least 1/10 of the city population, but at the same time they could always be enlarged.

    Each of these Cities is supposed to have huge stocks sufficient for at least 25 years of existence, of course the warehouses are barely full because the costs to be incurred are enormous and the reason to speed up the work is weak at the moment.

    Then, when they passed through the entrance gate, they headed towards the command post, passing the unfinished platforms of the underground railroad that is to be the final destination of the entire complex. What they know about it. Officially it does not exist although rumors and official known network of shelters and subway especially thanks to Glukhovskiy caused a rash of very interesting visions of such a complex, and many writers followed this creating their visions of such systems.

    Sometimes they came up with ideas which really interested designers who all the time add new ideas to the existing plans or rework the wrong ones. Sometimes their visions are disturbingly close to the truth, which makes Two and its armed arm SS-Special Service check such a delinquent if he didn't lead to the leak of important data.

    And sometimes they themselves throw into the ether false and mixed up with the truth visions of what is really to mislead other intelligence. Especially the American one (the Cold War is still going on, even though it has died down), the British one (the British still have in their minds who broke the glory of the Royal Navy and the myth of unconquered Albion for 900 years, especially that the Koronians did it a second time supporting the independence of Ireland during the Great War II) and, of course, the Swedish one which is still looking anxiously at the Commowealth.

    Although there was no war between the countries since the massive defeat of the Swedes at the beginning of the 17th century when the Poles instead of signing a peace treaty by taking Moscow for themselves threw full force at Sweden and the first bonds of brotherhood of the Muscovites with the rest of the Rzeczpospolita were forged in Livonia and Estonia and Finland.

    They occupied and held Moscow and then installed Zygmunt III Waza on the Moscow throne. Against the will of the Bojars, however, they had to capitulate when the Poles successfully suppressed a revolt and then for several years pacified the shattered remnants of the former Grand Duchy, where minor aristocrats took the opportunity to become independent.

    From this time the Commowealth gained great and smaller victories and suffered the same defeats, but the forces which it would probably lose in a constant struggle with independent Moscow used in other directions. For example, the settlement of the Wild Fields, the occupation of Crimea or the capture of the adventurous Zaporozhian Cossacks.

    Pro Fide, Rege et Lege. Witold read in his mind the inscription which was the motto of the Commowealth above a huge monitor showing the whole world which was no longer theirs and the territory of the Commowealth and military units everywhere when they finally reached their destination. And all around the room rows of computers and shuffling soldiers could be seen and the sounds of desperate phone calls, conversations and keyboard pounding could be heard from everywhere. Here the Colonel quickly and efficiently led them to a command room cut off from the room proper and which was separated from the previous room by a glass pane and through which they could see this map on a monitor.

    In that room were surprisingly gathered all chief commanders of the armed forces of the Rzeczpospolita. Witold clearly felt that someone higher up had made this happen. However, there are too many of them to list them all, so instead I will tell you how many there are.

    The Great Hetman of the Commowealth is also called the Hetman of the Wszechrzeczy and under him there are seven Great Hetmen who have specific areas of activity and who is subordinate to them.

    These seven are, of course, the Crown (Poland, Prussia and Inflants and the Crown Colonies and Curonian Colonies), Lithuania (Lithuania, Prussia and Belarus), Ruthenia (only Ruthenia), Moscow (Moscow and Belarus), Northern (Karelia and Perm and, if necessary, can take command from the Crown over the troops of the Siberian Colonies and Alashki) and two called Great Atatamans, i.e. Cossacks (Zaporozhye and Danube) and Tatars (Crimea and Astrakhan).

    Then we have fifteen Field Hetmans, some of whom have additional responsibility because they command more than one part of the Commonwealth. Here we also have an exception in the names because Hetmans of Prussia and Inflants are called Field Marshals.

    Another group of high officers gathered are, of course, the Sea and Air Hetmans, respectively six sea (for Crown, Lithuania, Ruthenia, Moscow, Prussia and Inflants) and twelve air (Crown, Lithuania ,Ruthenia ,Moscow, Prussia, Inflants ,Karelia, Madagascar,Yaksa,Green Ruthenia,Belarus and Don.).

    Grand Hetmans and Hetmans of the All-Territory for the Navy and Air Force are available but only three people have experienced this honor, most officers from these services have usually reached the rank of Hetman (ordinary). That is, in simplest terms, a Naval Hetman corresponds to a Vice Admiral and an Air Hetman to a Lieutenant General.

    And to complete the formalities they are subordinated to Generals (for Field Hetmans), Admirals (for Sea Hetmans) and Marshals (for Air Hetmans.) Of course, the people with these ranks are not in the bunker, instead they command in the field trying to clear up the mess as much as they can.

    "Your Majesty!" Prussian Field Marshal Jan Rommel spoke up in a faint German-Prussian accent. He then stood up and saluted and with him the other officers in the room to their superior. The King nodded "At ease!" then as the officers sat back and Witold sat down in his seat he asked "What is the situation?"

    The first to speak was the Great Russian Hetman Sergiej Klitczko who with his eastern sonorous accent communicated "Frankly, fatal, we have lost contact with our allies and supposedly ships and divisions that should be abroad suddenly began to appear on the territory of their permanent home bases." And here Crown Hetman Field Rajmund Andrzejczak interjected, "Not supposedly! They are appearing, we already have the 18th, 1st and 10th Divisions back and yet they were permanently stationed in Mexico!"

    Witold raised his hand to interrupt him and then, when he had calmed down, he asked the other officers, "Do you also have such situations?" They began to agree that they were also getting such reports about such units. "Good." Mumbled the King then asked, "Anything else?"

    And as if on cue, a short shake went through the room, followed a few moments later by one of the technicians working in the room. He quickly saluted the ruler and then said, "I have an important report!"

    "Very well, tell the pennant what is the matter?" Replied the King and a young non-commissioned officer with features betraying his origins in Cameroon although it was clear that some of his ancestors came from Europe in impeccable Mazovian Polish began "I report that the sun has returned to the sky and the quakes have disappeared abruptly and there is disturbing information coming in to our radars."

    "What disturbing information?" asked the Great Crown Hetman Wilhelm Jagiełło. The young soldier swallowed his saliva loudly and then added with a kind of disbelief, "The point is that completely different lands have been detected than they should be." And then he paused for a moment as if he didn't want to say because he didn't believe what he was about to report.

    "Bannerman, what has happened?" He furrowed his brows the Grand Hetman with a fatherly tone in his voice. The Bannerman took a deep breath then added "The point is Mr. Grand Hetman that it seems impossible what they have discovered." The Hetman raised his head higher "And what have they discovered?"

    The answer he got stunned everyone "Radar on the island of Rugia has discovered land...sorry Islands... that look like the Japanese..."

    Unknown Waters
    North-west of Rugia Island
    August 30, Anno Domini 2020
    1 Flotilla Strike Force

    OKP "Władysław IV Waza"

    The medium-sized aircraft carrier sailed quietly toward the Islands temporarily named for Japan. Alongside her sailed her escorts and other support ships. To her right and left were the battleships "Nieulękły" and "Nieugięty," one per side.

    They are called so because Battleship sounds firstly more dangerous than the missile cruiser they de facto are and secondly because they are the only ones besides the aircraft carrier with solid armor capable of taking a lot of punishment before they go down.

    The whole was commanded by Rear Admiral Jerzy Dickman, a descendant of the famous Polish Admiral Arend Dickman from the 17th century famous for being the first commander of the first naval unit of the newly formed fleet of the Commowealth and for being famous for the victories of the Polish fleet over the Swedish fleet in the battles of Oliwa, Hel, Ozylia and Gotland.

    His force consisted of four squadrons divided into two brigades.

    So:

    1st Brigade Combat Team

    1 Linear Ships Squadron

    OKP "
    Władyslaw IV Waza" Waza-type aircraft carrier

    OKP "Nieulękły" Niezwyciężony-type battleship
    OKP "Nieugięty" Niezwyciężony-type battleship


    2nd Battle Ship Squadron

    OKP "Burza" Grom-type destroyer

    OKP "Błyskawica" Grom-type destroyer

    OKP "Sztorm" Grom-type destroyer

    OKP "Huragan" Grom-type destroyer

    2nd Support Brigade

    3rd Support Ship Squadron


    OKP "Robotnik" Robotnik-type tanker

    OKP "Kowal" Miecznik-type rescue ship

    OKP "Nawigator" Nawigator-type radio reconnaissance ship

    OKP "Hydrograf" Nawigator-type radio reconnaissance ship

    4th Support Ship Squadron

    OKP "Tkacz"
    Robotnik-type tanker

    OKP "Grotnik" Miecznik-type rescue ship

    Their goal was as simple as the construction of a flail, to make contact with this so-called State of Japan in international waters. Both sides sent a robust force to meet as they had agreed near Ogasawara Island.

    In a way, the first contact came from the Polish side some ten days after the Event, more or less when the temporary martial law that was imposed on the first day in order to stabilize the situation of the Commowealth was lifted.

    The economy went through an initial massive shock, when all markets were lost except those emerging in the Rzeczpospolita. It is difficult for a country the size of a continent with a large part of its revenue coming from the internal market to suddenly collapse, although it should be noted that companies going for external export were very much damaged by the fact that some of them declared bankruptcy and the rest are kept on a drip-feed from national governments to keep them alive until new foreign markets are found, but their collapse caused a large avalanche of problems stemming from the fact that the economy is a system of communicating vessels, destroy one and the whole will quickly pour out if you do not do something.

    But never mind, more important now is this expedition. Officially, a laconic announcement was made about an unexplained event that caused Poland to be torn out of its world and the promising natives they were going to meet were discovered.

    Unofficially, they were going to communicate with Japan, about which there were rumors in the form of whispers. The sailors chosen for this task were deprived of communication with the world as soon as the 1st Flotilla sailed from Gdansk and only then the secret was revealed.

    What was the reason for this? Dickman had no idea, he was just told what to do and who to meet with and then his ships were loaded to the max with ammunition and equipment and a delegation to Japan was packed aboard his flagship.

    And all this in just five days! The rush was total, just to be on time for August 30th. He did not like it one bit, he had laconic information about who he was going to meet. The Japanese and ... Americans. The latter made his eyes fall out of his orbit. Americans in Japan?

    How? From where? They don't even have a port on the west coast of America! When he got the message that they were some AlterJapanese and AlterAmericans, he felt like laughing. Have they gone completely mad? If, assuming it to be true, especially since Dickman, like any self-respecting sailor, was cautious about "Two's" revelations, yes, he knew she was disturbingly effective in her work, but ten days was far too little to learn all the necessary information.

    All he knew was that they would meet with the US-Japan Fleet near Ogasawara Island and that the meeting was to take place aboard the USS Ronald Reagan aircraft carrier. And that the unknown fleet is to number eighteen ships. So his esteemed admiralty sent with seven combat and six support. Yes, he understood that two battleships and one full-fledged aircraft carrier is a force capable of fighting calmly on an equal footing with the theoretically much more numerous enemy fleet.

    Theoretically, battleships of the type Niezwyciężony built in the late 80s and early 90s were able to independently repel a much larger fleet of weaker ships. And they were created as a lesson from the naval battles of the Fourth of July War, which being the first since the Second Great War of such a serious armed conflict, though prematurely broken off due to lack of will to fight between the parties, was a serious test of many ideas and concepts that have emerged since the Second Great War.

    The naval engagements made it clear that while technological advances had greatly improved the capabilities of smaller ships there was a distinct lack of ships capable of holding their own alongside carriers or being able to take hits. Another thing was that the idea of unarmored ships was tossed in the trash, while it was true that guided missiles could easily destroy any ship, the problem was that few survived such encounters, especially noticeable when carriers returned to their bases heavily battered but with few escorts and the more important ships which had armor had more sailors alive than those which did not. Another thing is that the number of survivors and repairable ships was very small, less than those with even residual armor.

    So the navies of the world had to move away from the style of don't get hit to don't get hit but it's better if the ship can take something and survive on board. It is known that armor is very expensive, and looking at the costs that have to be spent on it and then at the theoretical effects before the war, it was thought that this is a better way than building ships with armor, which theoretically did not give much.

    But theory is theory, and the practice of war has shown that all the wonderful things that are invented in the Admiralty offices and in accountants and which on maneuvers look cool on war suddenly appear quite a lot of things unnoticeable in peacetime things, or in a situation where one side is totally superior to the other.

    One of these is the idea of shooting missiles over the horizon, great in theory, in practice if both sides are equal you might as well shoot God through the window. Both sides will fire a salvo each and both sides will easily dodge them.

    Thus to destroy the enemy you had to get to a more familiar distance but then as both sides got closer they increased their chances of mutual annihilation. Hence the renaissance of battleships which as very expensive ships and less effective in the role of destroying the enemy fleet than carriers went into oblivion and now when you needed a ship able to safely take many hits (as well as give them away, because the larger the ship the more missiles it can take on board and at the same time it is easier for it to stop a larger salvo of guided missiles because it simply has more CIWS guns as well as more anti-missiles) thanks to the armor it came back into play despite the really huge costs.

    That's why Dickman did not like his current situation, he knew nothing, and he was about to approach an unknown potential adversary who possessed unknown exactly what. Of course he was not as afraid as one might think. He was not afraid of the destroyers in his escort after all. They did not differ much from other existing destroyers except that they were much bigger, more modern and at the same time lighter than other destroyers.

    What was the reason for that? Namely, they were ships of the so-called new generation after the era of steel hulls. They were built from composites in which the main part was graphene. Which as a material extremely strong and at the same time much more flexible and lighter than the ones used so far was theoretically supposed to replace steel and its alloys.

    The live tests were very promising, and given that it was based on the very successful Strzyga type in terms of construction, any corrections and baby bug fixes were quick.

    The ships themselves in fact came into being recently because barely two years ago the first "Grom" sailed for sea trials and in January of this year "Huragan". In total so far the class consisted of eight launched ships and four under construction and the next eight had their keels already laid. Eventually there were to be more than fifty-four of them.

    Once the island loomed in the distance Senior Michman Jan Makgdomagal commander of the radio operators reported "Countermiral, the Americans welcome us." Dickman nodded and said "Then greet them and ask where we should stand."

    S. Michman saluted then began to follow orders and gave a quick reply. "North of the island and east of their flotilla, with a ten kilometer gap between us and them." Dickman raised an eyebrow then gave the appropriate instructions and as the flotilla approached the island from the east they changed course and eventually parked as requested 10 kilometers east of one of the Japanese destroyers.

    He turned to the commander of the Aircraft Carrier, "Captain Goldhamer, you are in command in my absence." The commander saluted silently. He spoke up only to announce that Dickman had left the command deck.

    The Rear Admiral quickly descended the stairs and made his way to the helicopter being prepared to fly the delegation, including him as the Navy's representative. As he stood on the flight deck near the helicopter, he began to look calmly at the ships in the distance.

    "An intriguing sight, isn't it Contradmiral?" The special envoy on behalf of the Rzeczpospolita, Tadeusz Zawadzki, asked him. Dickman turned his head in his direction then raised his eyebrows and nodded slightly "There's something to it Mr. Zawadzki."

    Meanwhile, Zawadzki looked at the sailors busily working on the helicopter. "Oho, I see that your men are quickly and efficiently doing their work on this... W-3 Sokół?" He said somewhat uncertainly trying to show his knowledge of the Rzeczpospolita's military equipment.

    Dickman smiled slightly then shook his head slightly and said, "Thank you for the praise but please tell Captain Fryderyk Goldhamer, and as for the helicopter, you missed but slightly. Technically you're right, but it's a land-based version and a civilian one at that. What you see here is the Navy version. ŚZL W-3PM Anakonda."

    Zawadzki clicked his tongue, "I was close." After which he asked, "Just out of curiosity, what does the designation mean, because I know that Świdnickie Zakłady Lotnicze, but where did the W-3PM come from?" Dickman raised his eyebrows in surprise, he honestly didn't know where it came from and wasn't very interested in it until now.

    Fortunately, the SS officer Captain Fryderyk Szot came to the rescue, "I know." Zawadzki raised his eyebrows questioningly to the chief of his guard. Szot in turn replied, "Well, I have a son who is crazy about aviation and he told me about his passion and so, walking with him and buying him models to assemble, I learned what the various abbreviations mean. So the W-3PM stands for Multipurpose 3 Passenger Seaplane."

    Zawadzki raised an eyebrow "Sounds logical, but why three?" Szot raised his hands in a gesture of ignorance "I don't know, maybe it's that it's the third model? The third version? Something like that." Zawadzki nodded while Dickman entered the conversation while looking at his watch. "All right gentlemen, we'd better pack for Anakonda now, Bosmannat Mejer says she's ready."

    "I understand Rear Admiral." After which he called to his SS subordinates. "Gentlemen and lady, let's go." Zawadzki and the rest of the delegation, that is, the necessary translators and other officials, and then they packed into the Anakonda, occupying all 14 seats, which, given the size of the helicopter and the fact that a lot of space was taken up by the equipment of the commandos assigned to guard it, meant that there was little free space in the machine.

    Dickman looked out the window as the men slid away from the machine and slowly the waking whine of the twin KZS-10S engines came to his ears, then when the whine was at its limit the machine broke away from the deck and moved toward the American carrier.

    USS Ronald Reagan
    August 30, 2020 J.C
    15:28


    Vice Admiral Wiliam Mertz was anxiously tapping his foot on the deck of the aircraft carrier and his uncertainty was noticed by the carrier's commander Captain Fred Goldhammer. Standing next to them in the distance was a Japanese delegation creating an invisible wall between them and the Americans displaced from their homes to receive these ... Poles.

    Further despite the ships standing in front of him with a red flag showing from afar with an armored hand holding a saber in his hand he was unable to believe in their existence.

    In general, there has been little he could believe in since the craziness that began after New Year's Day, which promised to be another ordinary year, although disturbing news was coming from China about the mysterious Covid-19 virus. But all that flew out the window with New Year's Day when it suddenly became apparent that he could not connect to USPACOM.

    They sat in the dark for three days before the Japanese kindly informed them where they had cut in their former superiors. For a moment he thought they were playing a joke on him. The grim faces of the Japanese made him stop laughing.

    They have, of course, elected the Ambassador as Interim (a good phrase thought the Vice Admiral sarcastically) President with full executive powers. So far they don't have a single state and the election is cancelled probably forever, although a plan is germinating in his mind to find some free land and build the US anew.

    However, the upside of this whole situation is that all that bullshit about LGBT+ and other weirdness that came out of nowhere, the Vice Admiral saw the long hand of Moscow in it, disappeared as if cut by a knife. Although, knowing life, when everything calms down again his sailors will divide into two camps, fighting each other to the last man alive, about who is right. Come back they are fighting all the time, but quietly, and the water is almost boiling in this damned madhouse that the United States has become.

    The top American officer hoped that when this all blew up he would be long gone from this madness and running a ranch or something in the New United States. He could not imagine that anyone would want that this strange situation, in which the United States at the same time exists as an independent country and relies on financial aid from Japan, which is in a bloody crisis and lacks de facto everything, would continue any longer than necessary.

    He couldn't imagine serving Japan oh what not! He'd sooner jump off the deck of that aircraft carrier into the ocean than serve that damn country. And it was supposed to be so beautiful and pleasant, with polite natives. Ba had no complaints about them until today. But since Japan had been taken by God knows who to this... New World, once again Mertz admired Japan's taste, or rather lack of it, in calling anything anything anything, then suddenly the Chinks who fucked-rice-for-every-fucking-meal had grown feathery and started behaving as if they were going to rule and you American Gaijin would keep quiet.

    They got soft when this Poland from nowhere appeared about 15 days ago, suddenly they shit themselves when they saw a country next door the size of Russia, which after ten days of silence (and eavesdropping on what they say at home on the radio, it was a little strange to say in the whole fucking 7th Fleet there were barely 24 people who know something in Polish, of which only six know more than the basic fucking phrases! To make things funnier, barely half of those 24 had Polish ancestors, the rest didn't know a fucking thing, and those six had as much in common with Poland as a fucking chair with a goat's ass). Finally he asked if they could meet in some place designated by them.

    Then, of course, the Japanese graciously remembered them once again, having previously pretended that they were not there. When they went to that Que-Tonye, they didn't say a word about their great allies across the ocean. And now, when they needed cannon fodder... that is, escorts and military support for their fleet, they appeared and asked if they could, with a hidden expression behind their smiles that this was an offer they could not refuse.

    And so he stands here like some kind of a moron and a dog that has to bark at his Japanese master's orders. He hoped that Poles would set these lords up and fulfill the role of the one who keeps Japanese away from the box with Japan Power ideas!

    These fools as he sees it in their eyes are only about to do something stupid when they recover from this mess, and it's not at all said that they won't fuck off something like Empire of Greater Japan 2: On the Pack. Seriously he was afraid of those crazy people.

    Fortunately, his inner tirade against the Japanese was interrupted when he began to hear and then see the helicopter approaching. After a few more moments he involuntarily bared his teeth; after all, these Poles are not so scary, nothing like the Ospreys they have, looking with satisfaction at a rather typical transport helicopter.

    From one propeller from above, and from the back of the tail. Underneath the rotor you could see the odd engine housing and below from the usual somewhat Soviet style Helicopter. It was white in color with red stripes going along the fuselage and having two shot lines up the middle of the fuselage and one on the tail. On the side one could clearly see the red and white chequered pattern, from what someone on the side had just said he understood that this symbol was also held by the Poles of his former world. Above the door and under the engines he could see letters forming the inscription KORONNA MARYNARKA WOJENNA.

    He struggled to read silently muttering what it said, most likely he had twisted something, especially those double NNs. He asked the translator assigned to him what it said, "Lee, what does that sign mean?"

    The mighty-sized Afroamerican Robert Lee quickly countered in his bass voice, strangely pleasant to listen to, "The inscription literally means Crown War Navy, sir." Mertz raised his eyebrows in astonishment, something he didn't do often. "You're not mistaken Lee?"

    Lee shook his head "No sir. That is literally what the inscription says." Mertz nodded "Hmm , that means they have a king but why it is called Crown, I don't understand it is rather strange." To Vice Admiral Lee's surprise he shook his head again. "Not so strange sir."

    Mertz became curious "And why is that?" Lee on the other hand looked at him seriously and replied "Because the Poles their country since their unification after breaking up into districts" seeing the mischievous face of Meztra he hastily explained "The effect of feudalism every European country on the continent went through this" Mertz understood "So sir, The Poles as they united their country from the time of Kazimierz III began to call it the Crown of the Kingdom of Poland, or Crown for short, and the name Pole from the time of the Union of Lublin until about the partitions and even longer meant the same as a Briton or an American, the Poles themselves calling themselves and by other inhabitants of their Commonwealth "Koroniarz" or Crownman." He ended the argument by flawlessly saying a word on which Mertz would have broken his tongue.

    Mertz made the face that everyone makes when they learn something very interesting. "Interesting, very interesting." Then when he saw the Polish delegation begin to disembark he patted him on the shoulder, "Okay Lee, let's go, it's time to see what your Polish studies are worth."

    Lee smiled "Yes sir."

    Taiji Asada looked at the walking American and his cronies with disapproving eyes, if it was up to him he would have kept that donkey away from an important moment for Japan but Mr. Ambassador... excuse me Mr. President Thomas Hayden in return for allowing his men, funded by the JMSDF budget to the annoyance of Asada, to do their job as a gesture of thanks for the Japanese help required that there be a small American delegation as well.

    The government agreed, much to his surprise. He thought he had made a mistake, because sooner or later this ridiculous joke about America's existence would be over and their people would blend in with the great nation of Japan.

    But less bullshit and more work, how can a nation be great when it's just idling around. Something for something Taiji Asado thought to himself. He didn't have such thoughts before, but after seeing what they were dealing with and the craziness going on in Tokyo in general, his attitude towards strangers changed a bit.

    Of course he was not stupid, nor proud. He knew perfectly well that this led to the madness which was the simultaneous war with China, the Western Powers and the USA simultaneously, good that at least they had enough sense not to throw the Soviets into the mix.

    This is little consolation, however, since Japan was ultimately destroyed as a result of the U.S. wrath they brought upon themselves.

    But his further thoughts evaporated when they were reunited with the American delegation, he coolly bowed his head to Mertz and then they waited together for the Polish delegation to come to them from under the propeller.

    This gave him a chance to look at them. He was being led by two men, a man of age with flashes of gray, blue eyes with, as he later noticed, green accents. He wore a large mustache. His nose was quite large and his curves were noticeable. He wore a dark blue suit to match the sailors standing next to him.

    Next to him walked an officer, as the Admiral guessed, who commanded that group of ships. Admittedly, those two motherships next to the carrier looked rather disturbing. He did not want to find himself as their possible target.

    The admiral, on the other hand, looked a little more bland. Similar to the diplomat, he had a square face, black eyes, black hair, and a dark blue uniform that made him stand out from the American sailors standing in front of him, who wore white. The same could be said of the marines standing behind them in their navy blue uniforms and helmets. As he noticed, all of them had their faces covered and their eyes were covered with goggles.

    In their hands they held something that looked familiar to him, something like a combination of an AK and an M16, and so well that without a longer look he would not realize that it had features of both these rifles. The barrel on which the musket was placed looked like from an AK, next to the magazine and the breech lever, while the butt, the grip and the rest of the casing looked like from an M16.

    Generally the weapon itself was rather, as Asada guessed, an original idea which unintentionally reminded him of known rifles. If only he knew that there existed in his world such a rifle which looked identical.

    Then as Asada assessed them all he nodded to the Vice Admiral to begin as host.

    Mertz accepted the gesture with understanding then spoke up through Lee, "Welcome, esteemed Polish" he could hardly believe he said it so fluently "delegation aboard the USS Ronald Reagan CVN-76. I am Rear Admiral William Mertz, commander of the United States 7th Fleet, next to me is the commanding officer of this ship Captain Fred Goldhammer and the translators are Master Chief Robert Lee and I represent the Interim Emergency Government of the United States."

    When this more or less dull speech, fortunate that it was not him they were to listen to in the end but Lee, was over, this Asada, as Mertz thought of him, spoke up, introducing the Japanese delegation more exquisitely and poetically in English.

    "Well, not a bad first impression we made on them." Said Mertz quietly under his breath with a sarcastic tone, seeing that the Polish delegation reacted more vividly to Assad than to him. Though it was interesting to see the surprise of the Poles when he introduced the Captain. They looked as if they could not believe in his existence. Well, he will ask about it later, he thought, when the Polish diplomat spoke up.

    "Hello ladies and gentlemen." He began as he realized in somewhat dull English, it didn't sound like the kind spoken by someone with a poor command of English but more like the kind of English that hadn't been used in a long time.

    "I am Tadeusz Zawadzki, special envoy on behalf of the Grand Chancellor of the Commowealth, Jan Piłsudski, standing next to me is Rear Admiral Jerzy Dickman..." Here the Americans had to use all their self-control not to laugh or betray that this amused them. "... and there stand the gentlemen of our security force led by Captain Fryderyk Szot of the SS."

    "Excuse me from what?" Asked Mertz when his red light came on "Well from the SS, or (Służba Specjalna) Special Service." And Mertz nodded with understanding. "Sorry my mistake, we know of another far less glorious organization with that abbreviation."

    Zawadzki understanding that this was a touchy subject decided to postpone the question. "Good, I think that's all, please lead the way to the interview area." Asada quickly stepped forward "That's right, Mr. Vice Admiral has prepared a suitable place."

    Then both sides went to the briefing room prepared in advance as a place for the first preliminary talks. They had originally wanted the island, but in the end decided that a warship would be a better place after all.

    It did not escape anyone's notice that the Polish Rear Admiral had been looking at Goldhammer in disbelief for some time. As soon as they reached the hall, Mertz stopped Dickman for a moment and asked him "What are you staring at my captain like that?" Dickman only gave a sign that it was nothing serious and ordered the others to go although one of the SS remained watching Dickman and the latter replied "Mr. Vice-Admiral, you wouldn't believe it if I only had to tell you, therefore when this is over I invite you and your captain to the 'Władyslaw' you will see for yourself what I mean." After which he entered the room without further delay and a noticeably lower than the rest commando followed him.

    Mertz, on the other hand, was curious about this, but preferred to leave it for later, first he had to see what he was dealing with. When he sat down and began to hear the first sentences of diplomatic fight he involuntarily smiled. He thought, when the hopes for easy talks from Asada's side were dispelled by Zawasky? Zawadski? He did not know how to pronounce this name, but it was worth watching, as he let the Japanese know that it was he who was doing them a favor, not they him.

    OKP "Władysław IV Waza"
    Flight Deck
    18:33


    When the first round of talks was behind them, all that had been agreed upon was the visit of the Japanese Prime Minister in Warsaw and the Polish King in Tokyo, and when, and the joint statement of their existence and the establishment of diplomatic relations and the temporary confirmation that the current ambassadors were fulfilling their role until they were replaced, Mertz, together with Captain Goldhammer, took advantage of Dickaman's invitation on his flagship. Asada invited himself on the Polish ship, Mertz did not know, but he guessed why.

    What he heard in that room would surely go down in history, or at least he would remember for the rest of his life. Especially the discovery that their former worlds, although Earth, were completely different timelines, which was rather obvious. Mertz had never heard that his Poland had an aircraft carrier. But it was hard to believe after all.

    Behind them followed the SS team, and Mertz had a strange certainty that the lowest one, how he knew it was a woman he had no idea but he felt it was her, had been watching him vigilantly all the time since he stopped Dickman.

    Minor decided to interrupt the Rear Admiral's argument briefly presenting a kind of counterpart to his Reagan. Seriously, the Polish aircraft carrier was not much smaller than his and in terms of air wing had identical numbers. It was no secret, by the way, although he noticed that he omitted some details.

    No wonder, although it is hard not to admit that it was not interesting, but nevertheless the aircraft carrier itself did not look more modern than his, probably in details there are differences, but in general when they walked through the flight deck and observing the machines on board if they ignore the different appearance of the uniforms, the different flag and the inscriptions on everything he could just as well recognize that it was another Nimitz. It's actually a little disconcerting if you look at it from another angle, because Japan only has three full-fledged aircraft carriers including its flagship. Because these landing ships can only be considered as light aircraft carriers, better than none but still in a classic naval battle they are an addition to the main force.

    Therefore, he asked Dickman, "Excuse me, Rear Admiral, but how many fleet carriers do you have?" Dickman looked at him a little pace before his gaze regained focus and he got his answer. "We currently have 18 fleet carriers in the line, and 24 carrier-landing craft."

    All the non-Poles stopped at that. "Excuse me how much?" Captain Goldhammer asked, thinking he had overheard. Dickman repeated in strong surprise, "Well 18 fleet carriers and 24 landing ships capable of acting as carriers. Although we do have some more regular landing ships."

    "Uh..." Started Mertz, when he got Dickman's attention he added "In our old world we had the most of them, but only 11 like this one here" he pointed with his hand to Reagan "and 8 of these particular landing craft-aircraft carriers. And it's all awfully expensive to maintain. How do you guys have that many?"

    Dickman burst out laughing lightly "Well, I guess it's obvious, apparently we're richer than you." After which he became serious "And seriously, you Americans apparently have an unexplained attachment to aircraft carriers because in our world your smaller counterpart has about 30 regular ones and ... I can't remember now how many but quite a few smaller universal ones."

    "That's quite a lot." Replied Mertz, to which Dickman denied with a wave of his hand, "Well yes but they're old and solid. And they've cut costs a bit, for example they don't have nuclear reactors like ours." Mertz got the point, a lot but not necessarily as advanced and large as these here though in their mass they certainly present a challenge.

    Whereupon Dickman clapped his hands "All right, now what you asked me Vice Admiral a few hours ago before coming in." Whereupon he spoke up with a loud shout "Captain Goldhamer come down here to us!" Goldhammer for a moment suddenly jumped up thinking it was him he was calling but quickly realized it wasn't him.

    Mertz wondered what the Pole was talking about that he did not want to say. He stopped when the Captain came out of the tower. When he saw him, his eyes almost fell out of orbit and his jaw dropped in surprise.

    The Polish Captain approached the Rear Admiral and quietly saluted and with his silent base looked at the Americans, it seemed that nothing could surprise this man. Not even what the American Goldhammer said in a moment "He... looks like me!"

    The Polish captain without any expression on his face looked at his American double, or maybe he's the American's double? And Vice Admiral Dickman replied, "You see, this is Captain Fryderyk Goldhamer, the commander of OKP Władysław IV Waza. I don't think there's any clearer evidence that we come from completely different timelines."

    Mertz, agreed with the Pole. And looking at the clone of his Captain Fred... heck even their names are similar... was weird. It was strange to look at someone who looks like someone you know and yet wears a completely different uniform, has different symbols on it. You can see a different eagle on his cap, and while his is more of a chatty jolly guy, this one looks like a terrible gloomy one. "May I return Kontradmiral to my work?" Fryderyk said and Mertz added in his mind no serious servant for whom the discovery of his clone was just another day on his calendar. He honestly had no desire to find out how it had happened that such a freak for him looked like an ordinary Tuesday.

    Asada, on the other hand, added "This is getting interesting. I'm intrigued by what else you Poles have to offer." And Mertz, to his own amazement, agreed with him.
     
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  • Batrix2070

    RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
    I am not made of salt, nor of a farm, but I have grown out of what hurts me. - Stefan Czarnecki Field Hetman of the Crown
    State of Japan
    31 August 2020 J.C
    Tokyo
    Seat of the Prime Minister


    The sound of pen tapping spread through the office of Japanese Prime Minister Yomoya Yoshinori. He was reading out the basic arrangements of the Polish-Japanese talks that were concluded yesterday and a small intelligence analysis that was done on the basis of the data obtained during the talks.

    The overall tone was rather unsatisfactory to the prime minister, as he read from a report

    Poles, in contrast to the Poles we know, behave much more self-confidently, more arrogantly, but at the same time one notices they look at us as children with special needs and surprising forbearance. You could sense that they thought we could not cope alone. Unfortunately, we do not know for what reason, the conversations were rather focused on when we should meet in general and the general characteristics of our countries and a few facts from their and our history.

    As far as we know relations between their Japan and Japan were exemplary and Poland was one of the countries helping Japan to modernize, although there is mention of a short war in 1905 between those Japanese and them, which in contrast to our history, that Japan lost.

    We do not know what happened next, although I would like to propose a theory that as a result of this war, Japan fell into a kind of dependence on Poland, becoming a kind of protectorate. We don't know how strong this dependence was, but we do know that their Japan was pushed out of China and never started a war with their United States and the Western powers. But despite its attempts, it did not become a colony.

    We suspect that they intend to recreate what they perceive to be the status quo and subjugate us to their interests, which may be the case given that decolonization on a serious scale has not taken place in their world.


    The last paragraph made Yomoya's brow furrow. Suspicions of trying to turn Japan into their colony? Looking at what the U.S. can do to them if they don't like something, it's not suspicion, but it should be written.

    Of course, the Americans would not call Japan their colony (although more or less Japan could not do anything without the consent of the U.S. as befitted a dependent country) and no doubt they were much better protectors than many other powers, but Yomoya as well as many Japanese did not like this dependence.

    And when they broke free, although he had to admit this was not the kind of break he wanted, they could more or less do as they pleased. And this time he had to fight not to fall into the hands of a country richer than the USA, with a much richer culture and history.

    This would be a comparable struggle, the more difficult that according to what he received this Commonwealth has almost the same territory as the Russian Federation, here the Prime Minister noted in his head, to pacify as soon as possible the ex-Russian Kuril Islands before the Commonwealth decides that it is quite a good idea in the name of protecting the people there, of course to take these islands for themselves, and at the same time unlike Russia its prosperity does not end with a few large cities.

    To hell, the Russian-European part of the Commonwealth has three times as many inhabitants as his Russia, and Siberia itself is much better developed than Russia and has more population. When he saw that the Republic of Poland has almost one billion people, he almost had a heart attack. He is already old, and something like that was a shock.

    A billion people, if Russia had not been so victimized by genocidal maniacs and at the same time not ruled by exclusively strong-arm governments could it have achieved the same success?

    He did not know, but what he saw painted a darker future. It would be much more difficult to trade with them, because having the resources of Siberia, they spend most of them on their own industrial needs and do not export them abroad like Russia to get advanced technologies in return.

    So they will be much less willing to buy Japanese products and much more willing to flood the Japanese market with their own. Yes, he guessed they would be happy to snuggle up more products to cut costs for their consumers but it goes the other way.

    But less so, one thing is most important to him, get natural resources for the Japanese economy and food. While they've managed to send delegations to Que-Tonye and Quilly and establish diplomatic relations and sign relevant trade agreements, without solid investment in their infrastructure they can't yet get enough out of it to knock down the price of everything in Japan, and construction work despite the truly frenetic pace still takes time, and to date they've completed about 30% of the intended investment.

    And dark clouds begin to loom over Roderius, Louria the warrior and supremacist kingdom on the continent begins to sharply escalate its rhetoric. Intelligence analysts suggest that by the end of this year, a solid war will break out on the continent which will likely draw some manpower away from the military reducing the amount of resource and food production Japan can obtain.

    Seeing this the Prime Minister started probing the Diet on the possibility of sending JSDF military support to help the States there. He did this of course with the obvious consent and pleas of the States there whose most important ally Altaras was busy watching Parpaldia which does not hide its appetite for new lands just like Louria.

    What's more, you can read between the lines that it is Parpaldia behind the sudden growth in strength of Louria and their aggressiveness. Most likely they want to cut off Altaras from possible support from the local states, which although technologically backward, can provide resources for Altaras to be able to long and effectively repel as in the entire history of their island invasions.

    The Altaras Navy, though small in number compared to its long-time rival, the Imperial Parpaldian Navy, in terms of the quality of its ships and the training of its sailors beat them with a finger on the nose.

    A popular saying in this part of the world is that one Altaran sailor is worth thirty Parpaldians. And one Parpaldian is worth as much as a hole in a barrel.

    And most likely this invasion too would have ended in disaster had it not been for a noticeable fact from orbit. The huge difference in population and production scale. Altarans are extremely rich, this fact is undeniable, but most of this wealth is due to the fact that they are good traders and extract Magic Stones and other important deposits of natural resources on their island, which they then export to more developed countries.

    The problem is that their production base after all is not so great, and the technological advancement is less than Parpaldia, which according to the information we have just entered the era of the first industrial revolution.

    And this gives a lot. Altaras, of course, was not blind, although they rely much more on imports of finished goods, including armaments, and their armaments manufactories are repair rather than production.

    Parpaldia, on the other hand, seems to have learned their lesson from the recent invasions, and decided that the best tactic for them would be to cut off Altaras' ability to obtain support in resources they don't need to produce or can sell on, and literally flood them with their troops.

    So what if the Altaran crews are much better trained, have better morale and their ships are better than the enemy's if Parpaldia throws them into battle in such numbers that the Altarans will succumb because of the mass of the attacking army?

    All this painted a rather dark picture for Japan. While the Commonwealth may simply not give a damn what Parpaldia does, Japan must stop Parpaldia's aspirations or it will end up as a fatal Polish protectorate dependent on their resources.

    Therefore, it is in Japan's interest for the Altaras to remain independent, as they have recently managed to establish relations and sign a trade agreement whereby the Altarans, as experts in the local peoples, will trade Japanese goods.

    It was also important for Que-Tonye and Quilla to be independent, because only with them were they able to establish diplomatic relations, the envoys from Louria returned with nothing, because this Parpaldian puppet refused any diplomatic ties without admitting the right of their claim to power over the entire continent.

    Of course, in the name of good relations with the others, they could not agree to this and the fact of a huge Japanese warship standing in the capital port of Louria made no impression on either their King or his council.

    Or at least that was the conclusion drawn by the deputies sent out. Thus Yomoya was somewhat in a quandary, Louria apparently cannot be stopped except by force and the same with Parpaldia. And to do anything he must take advantage of the fact that the state of emergency in Japan.

    The problem is that while earlier hardly anyone on the street except the most dumb pacifists (fortunately most have enough sense not to make an unnecessary fuss) would protest the sending of the JGSDF to Que-Tonye and the JMSDF to Altaras, now Poland poses a serious political problem because its opponents may consider for the very idea of beating up his government that this action is unnecessary because all necessary resources can be imported from Poland.

    The very fact that when asked if they could export food, Poles immediately said that they were even very willing, which considering the fact that Ukraine is a kind of granary of Europe and was one of the sources of wealth of the Polish Republic, it ceased to surprise him when he learned about it.

    In theory, he had a quick solution to his problems, just open wide to Poland, but at the same time this reduced the support for sending Self-Defense Forces abroad. He had to have some solid pretext to send troops to help against aggressors.

    Unfortunately, despite the hunger and chaos on the streets, there will be no shortage of malcontents especially in the Diet who will smear him on principle for this stunt.

    Louria according to the information we have been able to gather probably wanted to strike in April but some complications came to light which postponed the plan of their offensive but most likely they will strike in October or November when the ground hardens again after a period of autumn rains due to the cold.

    Of course, all of this allows Operation Kuninoaki's plan to be better refined instead of the crazy improvisation that prevailed in April when Louria started flexing its muscles.

    He saw that the Commander-in-Chief Munemori Ushioda of the JGSDF's eyes grew wide as saucers when he was asked to put together a plan to send forces to Que-Toyne, by the way the General expressed quite firmly his opinion on the possibility of so quickly putting together a plan without a solid knowledge of what the area of operation was to look like, who exactly they were fighting and many other important military issues that had now slipped his mind.

    Of course, this problem of sending forces overseas for warfare could be circumvented by bending the legal definitions or sending the Americans but the latter he preferred to keep as an ace up his sleeve instead of immediately sending them on something Japan could do alone.

    A third somewhat abortive route is to simply temporarily convert some JGSDF units to US Army units and when the fun is over unscrew that but that's not even on the table among serious proposals.

    "Damn Poland, couldn't you have arrived a little later? How about if Louria attacked earlier so I could send in the troops while bending the rules?" Yomoya growled angrily, interrupting the tapping of the pen only to click hard on that thing at the top which he didn't know the name of that was responsible for ejecting the writing part of the pen.

    He got up from his desk and went to the window for the first time in months, behind which he could hear the sirens. Yomoya didn't even care about sirens anymore, he was well aware that the services were exhausted by the constant calls and keeping everything together so that it wouldn't collapse.

    Then he looked out the window at the crowd of protesters camped outside the government headquarters who wanted bread and water. At this sight his heart softened and his former hard face disappeared.

    "Is this all I will leave behind?" He asked himself out loud "I promised both the people and myself that I would pull Japan out of the quagmire it has been in for over 20 years and what do I have now? Collapse and bitterness brought on by unknown forces."

    His countenance began to harden again when he noticed a small child among the protesters holding a cardboard sign on which he saw the words painted in crayons

    Please Help Us!

    When he saw this though he wanted to cry he didn't. Instead he growled angrily at himself and no one else "What the hell have I been worrying about for the last few months! My own shitty stool? Or that damn Japan I said I'd care about!"

    After which he looked again at the report on the desk and it suddenly dawned on him "I was a fool for not coming up with this before but how did I not come up with this!" He growled again smacking his forehead with the flat of his hand. "I don't have to choose, I can take both options and screw those fools at the Diet I can piss off we have more important problems than yours no this must be done, no that must be done!"

    Then with renewed vigor he went to his desk and called the secretary to whom he threw a few short words "Call a press conference in an hour... no, in two hours... this is how it has to be for the whole country every Japanese and foreigner has to hear it!... and the Foreign Minister has to be at my place in 15 minutes and doesn't give a fuck if he can't, he has to be!" After which he quickly hung up and briefly out loud said his two immediate goals "A quick trade agreement and if possible food aid from Poland and stopping Parpaldia at all costs by our own efforts."

    Then he made some important phone calls to various important people in the country to tell them to send the Self-Defense Forces overseas. He burned a lot of political capital this way, but he didn't care anymore, what good was he if Japan was a disaster?

    Surprisingly, his harsh approach to the secretary worked and within 10 minutes Foreign Minister Tadakumi Hoshino appeared at his door.

    The man was surprised to see that his boss had a sudden energy that he had not had in years. He summoned him with a gesture then ordered him to sit on the chair in front of him. "Tadakumi, you have a combat assignment and it is urgent." Began Yomoya's tirade.

    "What Boss?" Asked a puzzled Tadakumi "Simple, you have three days to arrange for me to visit Poland which is due by the end of this week. We have no more time."

    Tadakumi made a heavily surprised face "But premier..." He tried but Yomoya shot a sharp finger in his direction "There is no fucking but! It has to be and it has to be now, the people of Japan have suffered enough." After which he relaxed and added "After which when you have settled this you are to probe how much the Altaras and Que-Tonye and Quilla want our help against the invasion and arrange appropriate agreements," after which he added a surprising turn of phrase for the minister as if anticipating his questions "if they want weapons we will sell them weapons!"

    Then he went back to work, and seeing that his minister was still sitting, he said again in a serious tone, "Why are you sitting there, move your fat ass!" And with that, he chased Tadakumi out of the office. Then the Prime Minister went back to work.

    Two hours later
    Under the Prime Minister's seat


    The Prime Minister stood calmly at his post. With a serious but calm face, he looked at the hastily gathered journalists and TV cameras. Around him, protesters stood, kept away from the journalists by a cordon of police, but by no means meant to block their access to the stage.

    The whole thing was rather an unusual for Japanese improvisation and mess, which could be seen and felt. You could feel that there had been some sort of overreach in the government. When he saw the sign that everything was working and going live the Prime Minister started.

    Dear people of Japan,...he gave a short meaningful pause and no less honourable guests from all over the world, there was a voice of indignation among the assembled ultranationalists as you know for the last seven months Japan has been in the greatest crisis since its inception. As you know we have been uprooted from the old world, our home to this strange and alien one by no one knows who or why. The last seven months, hard months I should add have been this... here he gave another solid pause then with difficulty said I will say something that is not in our nature but I feel it is time to come out of it if we are to continue.

    The last seven months have been a display of the most inept government since World War II. We have chased the bunny time and time again ignoring the mess that has been piling up all around us for a long time. We've made a series of bad mistakes for fear of losing the Diet. We engaged in bickering and only incredible luck ensured that it didn't end badly for us.


    Murmurs and angry faces and noticeable rebellious voices perfectly conveyed what the common people thought about it. Even unfavorable and uncultured challenges against the Prime Minister and his government could be heard.

    So I will say briefly, I would like to apologize very much to everyone for that.

    All of a sudden everything went quiet because the apology was coupled with a really deep bow, literally because the Prime Minister walked away to the microphones and got down on his knees in apology and lay like that for the next few minutes then got up and came back. Everyone focused on what he wanted to say next.

    You have probably heard rumors that another country similar to us has appeared, also uprooted. Officially we said it was nothing but a rumor. Today I want to tell you that it is true, there is a new country, a country that can help us and only out of my own conceit could I miss this opportunity.

    Loud noises of surprise could be heard in the crowd, but most began to siphon more words from his mouth.

    But this country is not Russia, nor the USSR or some other version of Russia, or maybe some other equally great country like Germany or the United States. This country has so far been little known to us, although there are people here who are learning about it.

    He said the whole thing in a light tone as if crossing out wrong answers on an invisible board and human curiosity only grew.

    This is... The Commonwealth most started scratching their heads hearing the strange new word, that's what it's officially called for short. We from home know it in its much poorer, broken version if I may say so. Because it's... Poland! People started to make faces of surprise and even say that he was crazy and the Prime Minister as if hearing this added Yes, you're not mistaken and I'm not crazy although at first I thought so.

    Poland but in its glorious and great version. This is the Poland that was not wiped off the map at the end of the 18th century by three imperialist and greedy countries that wanted her land. Nothing like that happened in her history as far as we have learned.


    People started to think, trying to imagine Poland in its powerful version. Most followed the vision of a country that looked like a richer Russia, others that looked like Germany, some that looked like France and Great Britain, only a few thought it might be something like a more cultured United States.

    Therefore, in three days I am going to Warsaw, their capital city, to seek help for us there. They are as big as a continent, they were not hurt by this transfer as we were, so they can easily help us.

    Many were surprised by the last sentence, although ultranationalists at the sentence about seeking help and that the Poles could easily help them began to shout loudly about the betrayal and weakness of the Prime Minister and that Japan could manage alone. Fortunately their howling and firing at full blast of Battotai was quickly drowned out by the shouts of Hush! This went on for a few minutes before the situation returned to normal, after which the Prime Minister resumed his speech, but in a much louder and uninterruptible tone.

    But that's not the end of the news I want to share. I will say something unpopular, we must change and adapt to the new world. There has been a buzz of who knows who, but also of pacifists who have suddenly sensed a world in which disputes are settled by force of arms. Maybe you haven't seen it but dark clouds are coming over our country, even bigger than before. A certain Empire of Parpaldia is leading our new neighbourhood into a war by its actions. A war which, while being a barbaric and cruel act, is not in our interest and will destroy the remnants of our stability as it will consume our new trading partners from Altaras, Que-Toyne and Quilla.

    I therefore announce that I will strive to free our Self-Defense Forces from the fetters in which they have been shackled
    The Pacifists began to boo in indignation and while the Ultranationalists shouted in joy and I will change them into the more offensive Japanese Strategic Defense Force. The Ultranationalists stopped rejoicing but before they could express their outrage the Prime Minister added in a sharp tone This is all I had to say and remember!

    Remain calm!

    There is much to be done!

    The Japan Empire shall endure!


    At the end, there was a great applause and, surprisingly for the Prime Minister, shouts of support for him which easily silenced the malcontents. In the face of this, the malcontents tried to make a brawl, but the police, encouraged by the speech, easily nipped these attempts in the bud and for the first time in a year there was no fight between the extreme right and left.

    The speech, of course, was not left alone. The foreign ambassadors of Altaras, Que-Tonye, Quilly and, perhaps surprisingly, Parpaldia understood the message. And Cordia Lucan, ambassador of Parpaldia, as soon as the speech was over, took the interpreter from her ear and rushed to the embassy to warn her superiors in Esthirant.

    Later historians will consider this one of the reasons for Parpaldia's survival against a much more modern power, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. Well, except for one thing, those last three sentences became the unofficial motto of all Japan for years to come, eventually becoming so during the War with the Sorcerer .

    Rzeczpospolita/Commowealth
    Crown of the Kingdom of Poland
    3 September AD 2020
    Warsaw, Kazimierz III the Great Airport


    Yomoya raised his right hand in greeting to the journalists and millions of Poles watching him live in the distance as he descended the stairs attached to the government jet. Then, when he finally got down to the ground level he met eye to eye with Polish King Witold and his wife Marianna, and next to her the royal children, already grown up, Prince Andrzej, his two younger brothers in their teens, older Jan and younger Bartłomiej, and the only girl in the royal family, the youngest, Princess Jadwiga.

    He looked carefully at the Polish ruler before shaking hands with him. So Witold was a man of age, with dark brown hair and blue eyes, he wore a short but not too short mustache, his face was square, with an eagle nose and slightly bushy eyebrows. From the look of him he looked like a typical administrator.

    He manifested a rather cordial though balanced aura, but did not seem overly threatening or zamordistic. Honestly he seemed rather decent person, much nicer when seen in person than in a photo. Though one could not help noticing the visible stress of the last days.

    His wife, who was a bit shorter than Witold, seemed a bit younger than her husband. She was rather petite, especially when compared to her husband, who was not very powerful. She had dark blond hair tied up in a bun and green eyes. Her face was round, with a small nose and slightly emphasized lips.

    In general she was certainly pretty, but not stunning. Witold was rather more handsome than she was beautiful, but she was not ugly. The children were more after their father than after their mother.

    And their clothing, it was something similar to the presidential style. Honestly, if he did not know that this man was a king, he would think it was some kind of president. The orders he usually saw on European monarchs were missing, he seemed more like the President of the USA?

    And he wore an ordinary navy blue suit, not a military uniform. Everything you would expect from a monarch was missing. His wife dressed more like a ruler should, and their children were more like who they really were.

    And their eldest son was dressed in a green officer's uniform, though looking at the rank symbols it is a lower rather than higher rank.

    The whole inspection took only a short moment in which his wife Akie stood beside him. After which he moved forward shaking hands with King Witold and the latter smiled warmly and accepted it after which he said in somewhat numb Japanese, "Welcome to Poland, Prime Minister Yomoya, I hope you will feel at home."

    Yomoya was surprised by the Polish ruler's knowledge of the Japanese language. He quickly guessed the reason why Witold revealed this card, to show that Poland did not have any dark and evil intentions towards Japan.

    "Thank you your majesty, I hope I can say the same to you when you arrive in Tokyo next week." Replied Yomoya calmly after which the king introduced his family to him and he his wife. Then the more ceremonial part of welcoming him to the airport began.

    The whole event took some time but consisted of a welcome with bread and salt by children in folk costumes after which he was taken to a limousine sent from the Embassy of Japan to the National Theatre where he saw a short dance ceremony by the Belarusian Singing and Dancing Ensemble followed by a short presentation of all the member countries of the Republic of Poland and their regions starting from the heart of Poland, i.e. Greater Poland, and ending in the distant Crown Colony of Cameroon and Magaskar.

    The whole thing was interesting, Yomoya had to admit, although it was not at all difficult to notice that the whole thing was more like a quick improvisation and use of pre-prepared and learned scenarios instead of having a special show for the Prime Minister of Japan.

    As he later found out, he was lucky to be preparing for the Week of Unity of the Republic of Poland, which always takes place in the third week of September, this year from 14th to 21st September.

    After all this, finally Yomoya sat opposite the Polish king in the conference room of the Royal Castle. It was a kind of one-on-one meeting, eye to eye to discuss pressing needs among themselves.

    The rest of the staff of both countries were elsewhere, preparing for more official diplomatic talks, so the two men decided to use this time more constructively, especially Yomoya who wanted to come to the first agreements as soon as possible.

    As soon as a small meal had been brought in by the maids the two lords of life and death of their countries proceeded to talk. "Well then," began the King, "Lord Yomoya, I was a little surprised at your haste and eagerness to talk, may I know what has happened?"

    Yomoya took a sip of coffee before replying, "Let's just say your highness that I have experienced some enlightenment? A change of heart you might say."

    Witold accepted this neutrally with a nod "I see..." then with a livelier tone he asked "So, what are you coming with? It's evident that it's been eating you up inside since you got here."

    Yomoya hesitated for a moment, he did not know whether he should say bluntly what he meant or ask for help in a more camouflaged way so as not to lower his negotiating position. After a long moment he scratched himself, he has no negotiating position! He had come here to ask for help for his country, a country which could no longer wait for food to be grown and brought from Que-Toyne.

    Witold did not rush Yomoya patiently waiting for the Japanese Prime Minister to get it out of him. He was not counting when Yomoya finally said, "The suffering of my people, my nation, crushes me sorely, Japan, as you can guess, has neither enough natural resources nor food to sustain itself. Of course we have already taken care of adequate sources of food and resources but now they seem both precarious and it seems to me that we have no time until adequate food is gathered nor infrastructure built despite the hard work of the Japanese construction companies who work de facto half free in three sometimes even four shifts knowing full well what the alternative is."

    Witold was surprised and hard at that. "What do you mean by lack of time and uncertainty, Prime Minister?" Yomoya this time answered at once "War your highness, war lurks with its darkness over these lands we have discovered." Witold furrowed his brow "What do I mean by that?"

    The Japanese summarized the situation very briefly in very general terms making Witold put his hand to his chin pondering before he replied "This is indeed an unpleasant situation, I understand that you want us to provide adequate food and raw materials which can be done but I have the impression that you want to ask us for something else".

    Yomoya nodded in agreement then paused for a moment as if he didn't want to fully say it thinking that Witold would consider it too much of a demand. Witold seeing this hesitation asked with suspicion "What else do you want?"

    This renewed question broke Yomoya's hesitation like Jesus broke bread at the last supper. He grunted before replying, "I would like, your highness may consider this an excessive request, for you to carry out... no that's the wrong wording, I would ask you to make a preventive war against Parpaldia and Louria to stop those countries from their imperialistic actions."

    Witold's eyes widened in astonishment at this request... no, Japan's request. He was about to get angry when a soft female whisper reached his ear, "Calm down Witold, instead of getting angry in this situation as Poles usually do, sit still and ask why."

    This voice stopped him just before he opened his mouth, but Witold realized after a while who was asking him, so he sat down in his armchair and started counting slowly to ten in his mind, then took a deep sip of his tea and counted again.

    When he calmed down he looked coldly and asked coldly "Why should I do that? I understand that these countries want to conquer others, but wars always break out for various reasons and the goals do not always come true as the aggressors dreamed, and the problem of redirecting the manpower of those countries to the army is a Japanese problem, not a Polish one. Besides, you have your own armed forces, why can't you or your Americans do it?"

    Yomoya loosened his tie and then said with barely concealed anxiety, "The problem with this is multi-level, I can hardly deploy the Self-Defense Forces overseas but that will be a bending of the legal rules of our country which my opponents will exploit without scruple, already in April there was a threat of war on Roderius but our deployment stopped for a while the Lourians who in the face of the unknown did not try their march but I can not keep them indefinitely, so when the matter seemed resolved I had to pull the JSDF back to Japan."

    Witold nodded with understanding "I understand... but why can't the Americans do it? They don't have such legal restrictions as you do, because I understand correctly your armed forces can't attack only defend themselves either?"

    Yomoya nodded a few times "Yes, yes but the problem with deploying the Americans is twofold, it's not up to de me, the Americans for example may not want to because it's a loss to them of their precious resources and the other major problem that it's terribly unpopular in society and if the left sets Japan on fire for deploying the JSDF overseas especially on the offensive, then the right wing including my party will do the same for using Americans for that and the ultra-nationalists are a serious and growing problem because of, let's not kid ourselves about the total collapse of the country. Already, for example, our railroads famous for their lack of delays are experiencing huge delays because people have lost faith in what they are doing as well as the will to work."

    Witold pondered for a few long moments, and when he had thought about it, he said, "Well, that makes it impossible for you to send an army, except in a really dire situation that would allow you to do so. But one thing puzzles me, why do you care so much about helping these countries? It goes a little beyond looking out for your own interests, it sounds a little like you're trying to do something else under that pretext, for yet another motive that seems ridiculous to someone else."

    Yomoya raised his eyebrows in astonishment at these conjectures of the Pole. "I see you are guessing something else right?" Witold nodded "Well, your highness, you are right, there is another motive for which he wants to act but cannot." After which the Prime Minister took a roar of his coffee before replying "The point is that these countries cannot defend themselves, our air intelligence says bluntly the disparity of forces is too great, Parpaldia has been preparing this operation for many years and will do everything to make it a success. The support they gave to Louria is astonishing for a renaissance or medieval kingdom, can you imagine a country barely twice the size of the Kingdom of France fielding a fleet of 4400 ships? Or calling up over a million soldiers under arms?"

    Witold opened his mouth in astonishment "How much? How is that possible... aaah well Parpaldia, a great superpower is able to make something like that happen if it is a few technological levels above and produces equipment fit for a lower level country."

    Yomoya started nodding and pointing his finger at the king "That's right, Que-Tonye and Quilla can only field 100 thousand soldiers and 350 ships at the most, the mass of Lourians alone even though they are probably poorly trained conscripts is enough to crush any resistance under their boots. And about Altaras there is nothing to say, they are in the ass and they know it well, Parpaldia finally reached such a numerical and even technical superiority, that the advantage of training crews and soldiers and command for Altaranians will give little. And unfortunately I am bound by the law on the prohibition of supplying advanced equipment to lower technological countries in which one of the paragraphs says prohibiting the supply of any weapons not technologically suited to the period so I cannot send them equipment and instructors to offset the numerical and technological superiority of their enemies." When he saw the questioning look on Vitaly's face he added "I did not propose this law, it was passed without my consent, I thought and still think it is moronic."

    "I understand Mr. Prime Minister but that doesn't answer my question." Answered Witold while sympathizing with being actually a passenger in a situation where a good law is passed in theory but in reality a bad law.

    Yomoya agreed with him, "Exactly, but that's kind of the introduction to it, you see, your highness, in a way I feel guilty and in trying to actually help them I want to atone for some crimes from the past, crimes that are cruel and terrible. So bad that many of my colleagues pretend they never happened or that the Chinese or Koreans are exaggerating. And now I see a certain analogy to our past in their situation and if I can I try to prevent what might happen."

    Witold nodded slowly but sensing that this was a touchy subject replied "I understand that this is a topic for another, more peaceful occasion." Yomoya nodded "Yes, and I would recommend taking something deeper with you, most of course of my party mates would be most happy to pretend it never happened but I prefer not to take the risk and be so naive that someone won't find out and after all we will have to get to know each other more, including the dark pages of our history and our worlds."

    "Okay Mr. Prime Minister, I'll think about this ... separate request am I to understand?" Replied Witold slowly to which Yomoya agreed with another nod. To which Witold smiled and added "I guess that's all?" Faced with another nod, Witold decided to move on to lighter topics "So Mr. Prime Minister what do you think..."

    At the same time
    September 3, 2020 I.P.C
    Kingdom of Paganda
    Singa, the Royal Capital


    Singa, the great pearl of the Western Zone, also known as the Second Zone, was burning in the distant Center, and the smoke from its ruins obscured the sky so much that it seemed as if a long night had fallen. A night of fear and dark monsters that crawled out of their burrows. For Stanisław Koziej an officer of the Polish Imperial Army this was a perfect description of what the 14th Mechanised Division did to that city during the fights for it.

    Honestly? It wasn't even a challenge, just cleaning a very old attic in an abandoned house from garbage and getting rid of rats, mice and other vermin that had been sitting there since unknown time.

    An air strike from the air wing of the Polish Imperial Navy from the aircraft carriers OOCP Furia, Armaggedon, Wodnik, Rusałka. Then a salvo of water-to-ground missiles from 12 Miecznik-type destroyers was enough to destroy any defensive fortifications the defenders had. The landing and fighting in the city was just a formality.

    These Pagandians were not, in Koziej's opinion, even something worth noting in the history of Polish arms. Cosmically weak, dependent on their protector who, according to the intelligence, is exhausted and slowly rebuilding itself from the destruction of the Fourth World War which the natives call Civilization War.

    And they had the audacity to insult the Emperor of the Romans and the Imperator of Rome and the Lord of All-Poland and when it came to the point they called out their master. Fortunately Leifor did not respond to their call, otherwise he would have quickly joined this miserable little country in the grave, a mass grave let us add, over which writes the Countries destroyed by Poland forever. They tried to resist the modern army, with equipment from the 19th century, from the era of the Civil War also called the Great Polish Revolution in which the cursed traitors republicans raised their heads for the first time against the legitimate imperial power, against the creators of Poland, the glorious Piast dynasty.

    Although they were suppressed, it was at a huge cost and loss of half of Poland Proper to Germans and Czecho-Hungarians. And what kind of Poland is it without half of the lands between Odra and Bug?

    Fortunately, the Chief of Poland, Konrad Gromski erased this disgrace and an even younger one over 80 years ago.

    "Major!" The voice of one of his subordinates from the 45th Mechanized Infantry Regiment behind him spoke up, interrupting his gaze on the burning city "Yes Private Andrzej Michta?" He asked calmly without turning around.

    "We've caught some dignitary, looks like one of those who insulted His Imperial Majesty's wife." Hearing this, Koziej turned to the private. "Are you sure?" The private nodded confidently "Then lead me to him." The private saluted then they both moved towards Michta's squad.

    They got there after a few minutes, the first thing he did was to assess the appearance of the captive, when he compared him to known and wanted dignitaries and decided he agreed he asked the corporal in charge of the squad "Who caught him?"

    Corporal Andrzej Kowalski indicated with his head "Private Jan Niedowiarek caught him Major." Koziej looked at the private and quickly assessed his appearance. The private then stood at attention, presenting the whole class with the look of his uniform, which had undergone quite a lot of wear and tear.

    The bullet-proof vest did its job, but the equipment hung on it and the material hiding the graphene plate was badly punctured by bullets, showing the plate itself and its crushing by rifle bullets. The same was with the goggles in which the right glass was broken and the left one severely cracked.

    Apart from that, the cloth on his right hand was also torn and his service PR-15 Ragun was missing from his pistol holster. There were traces of blood on the butt of his automatic rifle KM wz.93 Beryl.

    "Private Niedowiarek, I see you've taken quite a beating, what made you do that?" Asked the Major calmly after assessing his appearance. "Permission to speak freely?" Asked private in a serviceable tone.

    Major nodded "I allow" and then Niedowiarek relaxed and started to enumerate "Goggles are an effect of a fucking sniper for ten bucks and a fight in close quarters in city hall, Major, there I also lost my pistol in all that commotion. And I had to use a flask on some clown, quite hard by the way, because all that was left of my opponent's head was a bloody pulp, like someone smashed a watermelon with a stick. And my vest is the work of some dickhead with a heavy machine gun upstairs."

    The Major nodded with a look of recognition at this information. Then he looked at Pagandian "And how did you catch him?" The private lightly shrugged his shoulders "Simple, he was hiding with a group of locals and when they found out who it was, a fight started and then they handed him over to us for fear that we would shoot them or something." Then he laughed, followed by the rest of the squad and even the Major himself at these unfounded fears.

    "Very well Private I will promote you to the rank of Older Private and nominate you for the Cross of Valor for your actions for your country." Said the Major when they finished laughing.

    "To the glory of the fatherland, Major!" Exclaimed the Private nodding his head in lieu of the customary salute which is only valid when wearing a cap or beret with a two-headed eagle. Because the Polish two-finger salute goes to the eagle on the cap and not to someone in front of it.

    Koziej smiled with satisfaction and then turned to the captive... a captive is only a soldier and this one is a civilian. A civilian with whom the empire and the imperial army have to settle accounts.

    His face hardened at the sight of the solidly beaten vip, he guessed who did it but turned a blind eye to it. He approached the badly beaten civilian and asked firmly and slowly in Pagandian "Was it worth insulting Her Imperial Majesty Eliza Piast? Was it worth insulting the good name of the Polish Empire? Was it worth it to be insulting to our faith and our dynasty?"

    The older man looked up at the officer with difficulty through his swollen eyes and then growled, "You are shit, not the Empire, you fucking barbarian. Your miserable little country and its dynasty of whores and sluts are no match for you fucking destroyers. Look at what you have done for a mere statement..."

    He hadn't finished when Koziej pulled out a gun interrupting his argument. After which he put the pistol to his forehead. "No, sir, the only barbarian here is you, we came here to make contact but you in your typical barbaroi arrogance have rejected our will, beaten our envoys and insulted our sanctities. I advise you to pray for your people to have more sense than you and your ilk because we have our large but limited patience. Do you know what happens to nations that make us lose it?"

    The Pagadian shook his head slowly while the Major countered with "This!" then pulled the trigger of the gun killing him on the spot. The force of the gun's impact was great enough to make the head fly backwards so hard that it dragged the upper body with it so fast that the spine snapped like a twig on firewood breaking in the hands, then the body finally fell.

    One of the soldiers whistled "Not bad Major, how did you do it to break like that?" To which Koziej replied "Years of practice son, years of practice knocking down fools like him." Then he smiled maliciously "Well, and special bullets for the gun."
     
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  • Batrix2070

    RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
    Principality of Que-Toyne

    Sept. 30, 1639 C.C.Y.

    Lostrum Training Camp


    Lostrum, was a small town located near the border with Quilla in the so-called Mallow Gate which is located between the Great Green Forest and the Marble Mountains. It took its name from a river flowing through this land and flowing into a large lake in the Forest.

    It refers to the fact that the color of the water of the river is very white, hence in the language of the natives of this land or Elves of the Teleri race it is called Malwa which means Pale, the Beastmasters of Quilla call it the Baht River which is a literal carbon copy from the Elven language, while people mainly coming from Louria call it the Milk River and so the gate changes its name depending on the name of the river.

    Lostrum itself was somehow not an exquisite or famous place for something. Ot, a mining town located under the Ando Mountain. The westernmost peak of the Marble Mountain Chain.

    It was located on a plateau, and from the city one can clearly see on a good day the Great Green Forest in the distance, also known as the Elf Forest or the Green Forest from a surprising quirk of the trees there whose leaves never change color but remain green even when they are shed for the winter.

    So what causes the winds of history to blow in these regions? The Lostrum Training Camp, where Japan is quietly and illegally training Que-Toyne and Quilla soldiers in the use of relatively modern equipment and in war tactics.

    This was, of course, against Japanese law, no less obvious was the fact that Japan could not simply walk away without some form of assistance to the natives. Hence, Operation Sairento Araiansu was organized, which was an action by Japanese intelligence and operators from the Tokushusakusengun, or JGSDF Special Forces Group, who were suddenly collectively given furloughs or dismissed from their jobs(temporarily, of course).

    Due to a really limited budget which had to remain relatively small so that the pacifist faction reviewing financial operations would not be able to notice an anomaly, the Japanese trainers were restricted to training the natives in the use of firearms most often pulled out of storage old M1 Garand or those Type 64 carbines which for technical reasons had been deleted from storage and the Intelligence decided to quietly take them, officially of course the weapons went for scrap.

    Unfortunately, this also limited the possibilities of what could be taken unsuspectingly from magazines to weapons that were very old and often worn out. And heavier equipment than mortars could be forgotten. And even flipping mortars was a hassle.

    Fortunately, Lostrum was so far from the center of the country and important trade routes that once the equipment was delivered here, it could be used without restriction.

    The camp was not overly large, in fact, about 25 instructors trained two specifically flags one for each country. Both consisted of 200 men each which meant that only four hundred were being trained. Compared to the invasion forces located in Louria, this was as much as nothing.

    This was, of course, a problem for everyone, unfortunately the limitations of operating quietly were insurmountable for those few months. Hence, the focus was on training in guerrilla warfare methods and the operation of special forces in the enemy's rear, which is why the main part of the trainees were Sky Knights riding vivos.

    Fortunately, the sudden appearance of the Republic and with it its Crown colony of Cameroon changed that. The Japanese government's request for material and training assistance was accepted when it became apparent that Cameroon, on relocation, had been annexed to the continent of Roderius to the south, becoming a neighbor of Louria and Quilla. And the former seaports located in the Bay of Louria became river ports of the newly formed Louria River starting in the Ocean and ending in the Ocean cutting off Cameroon from the rest of the continent.

    The river itself was sizable, so crossing it for the Lourians was quite a challenge in itself, and even if the Lourians had pulled off such a stunt, the 23rd and 45th Crown Ascaris Divisions would have been more than happy to acquaint the Lourians with their artillery, starting with the M120 Rak self-propelled mortar, followed by the AHS Krab self-propelled howitzer and ending with the AHS Kryl self-propelled howitzer.

    No less, Louria's invasion of Quilla would create a problem, and seeing how Louria contemptuously approached the MPs sent from Cameroon made it certain that even if Poland did not intervene Louria would make trouble for her after the conquest and would claim Cameroon as part of Roderius even though until recently it was part of Africa on a completely different planet!

    Of course, a huge Lourian army is no problem for Poland, all of them were armed in Renaissance style and organized according to the patterns of that era. Even magic would be no trump card for the Lourians.

    The last point worth mentioning was the Polish disdain for genetic supremacy, based on race or species. This stemmed, in a way, from Polish thought called New Sarmatism, or Enlightened Sarmatism, which, drawing lessons from Polish history, recognized that the Poles were not an imperial nation by nature and that their entire "empire" came about through cultural and economic impressions on other nations, and that a strong military was a very helpful asset in convincing those who feared despots and tyrants of the Polish love of freedom and an equal to equal approach.

    The Poles were not supposed, according to this approach, to invade foreign countries without a very solid legitimacy to rule those territories. Even the famous conquest of Moscow and the pacification of the resisters was to come from the level of the title the Polish rulers had inherited from the Piasts, namely Kings of Rus, hence Moscow according to this, was nothing more than a rebellious vassal whose conquest the Poles not only had the right but even had to due to the fact that the Princes of Moscow were collaborators with the Rus collaborating with the Mongols oppressing their countrymen on their behalf, and their despotism and other customs brought from the steppes had to be removed in favor of respect for freedom and treatment with rights including to personal property and human dignity.

    Hence when Darwinism and thus the resulting chauvinism and other such thinking prevailed in the West. In Poland, anti-Darwinism and anti-chauvinism arose as a counter-reaction to this. Hence, in the Earth from whence these Poles originated, they became known as anti-progressives and staunch traditionalists vis-à-vis the rejection, in accordance with Catholic social teaching, of all cultural innovations and often referring with contempt to English science, as it was accepted to say to Darwinism and all that derived from it.

    Therefore, for ideological reasons, the Commonwealth decided to bail out Japan, plunged into its own domestic impotence, in the task of defending weaker countries from Louria, which proclaimed purely human supremacy. For it should be known that the term humans, contrary to common perceptions of fantasy worlds, in Arcadia was much broader and included both elves, dwarves and lowlanders who are considered to be factions of the human race and not a separate species.

    According to legends, all of these races arose as a result of an alliance between ancient humans and a particular deity or group of deities who turned the ancestors of these factions of humanity into a particular race.

    As genetic research later found out, there really was a lot of grain of truth in these ancient myths, and some of these myths puzzlingly looked like someone trying to portray something undoubtedly technologically advanced with a limited vocabulary.

    Therefore, usually human supremacy did not take such an extreme form as with Louria, who preached that non-humans should be exterminated, while half-humans and beasts should be enslaved to work for the benefit of the true human race.

    And the sad fact is that Louria managed to exterminate much of the rest of the human races in its vast territory in the West of Roderius, the remnants and the lamentable ones fled east mainly to Que-Toyne where they greatly strengthened the sparsely populated country despite the fact that this Principality has really fertile lands.

    The problem is that this fertility also acts on, for example, the forests which are huge and occupy most of this very flat country and the average tree not only grows up much faster than any on Earth or elsewhere in Arcadia but is also much larger.

    Another problem is simply that there are very few rivers that are navigable, making the main part of the settlement stretch along the coast or in a few valleys or huge clearings scattered unevenly throughout the country, and the worst part is that a good portion of the important developed towns and villages are located in the west of the country on the border with Louria and are more connected to the lands of that Kingdom than to the rest of the Principality.

    This was a legacy of the old days when Louria was much smaller and its center was further west, Jin-Hark their current capital is not their traditional capital, for centuries their capital was Don-Hark located inland near the Great Forest, It wasn't until hostilities with the elves hiding in the forest and their great foray into the capital of Louria two centuries earlier that the capital was moved to coastal Jin-Hark in the old days called Pellanor which was and is the largest city on the entire continent of Roderius.

    Jin-Hark was not a city that de jure belonged to Louria, this city and the areas around it were, before the conquest, part of the Kingdom of Ladonia, with which Que-Toyne had good relations and was strongly linked politically and economically. No less, the only thing that remains of this is the reluctant economic connection that can be seen on the map despite the passage of centuries.

    In contrast, it was completely different in the case of the Kingdom of Quilla, which occupied a huge chunk of land on Roderius since almost always being a despot of pure water. This highly centralized authoritarian kingdom, in which the will of the Beast King is law and obedience to his will is the greatest virtue, was established in inhospitable lands where, unfortunately, only such an approach, in the absence of an adequate technological level, allows the natives to survive in this barren land of deserts and sparse steppes where there are few rivers.

    The complete opposite of Que-Toyne where the power of individual regions weakens and keeps power in check. And the Prince is elected in an election among the most powerful land rulers or great merchants.

    Add to this the fact that the poverty that prevails in Quilia and the wealth of their neighbors caused eternal strife and Quiilian invasions in which they plundered everything they could, and thus this state is shrouded in a disgraceful reputation as a state of brigands and bandits. As a result, the main exports are the residents themselves who served for centuries as mercenaries in the eternal feudal wars between the Roderius states before Louria conquered it all.

    It is only the common threat from Louria that has made the two countries allies, albeit with too much bad blood between them, which is why they prefer not to get too close, and trade is basically very small and mainly done by sea, although this is due to the heavy terrain to be traversed.

    This was also the case now when, spread out in two columns, they stood in an empty field waiting, according to orders, for the arrival of Polish specialists. It was easy to distinguish them from each other because the Quilians were not humans, but beasts, or more precisely beasts of three races namely the Inps who look like Jackals, the Sweets who look like Camels and the Sphinxes a race of Felix Beasts looking like Canadian Hairless.

    They wore light airy clothes more suited to their hot homeland than to this mountainous region. Next to them, at a distance sufficient for a not inconsiderable moat, stood the Qutoyans, on the other hand, wearing warmer and thicker clothes that made them not as cold as their "comrades" in arms.

    Both formations were in matching armor meant to represent these Air Dragon Dragoons, a new formation that the Japanese had created in an attempt to give this numerically small force some operational effectiveness in hit-and-run attacks.

    The superiority of fire that even the Garand self-repeating rifles and the old BARs with a couple of other toys should give, combined with the speed of movement on the vivas, meant that this formation was going to be the ideal unit to thrust like a spear into the enemy's sensitive spot using huge enemy formations to its disadvantage.

    But for the past few weeks there have been rumors that the hitherto meager training program will be expanded and equipment support will be much better than before, while others proclaim that the program will be shut down and the problem will be solved by newly arrived Poles. The first version was advocated by soldiers from Que-Toyne, the second by those from Quilla.

    Which, of course, created another of the many disagreements between the two groups of soldiers, and had been the main topic since it was announced that the Poles would arrive at the training camp barely a few days earlier during the evening meal.

    Commanding the entire training process, Colonel Sotaro Soda, who had a problem with jokes about him especially from the Americans because of his name, could only accept with displeasure another problem on his ever-growing list of things he had to put up with even if they were a nuisance. Just as the typical Japanese was not skilled at coming up with names, and so this is the real name of the real list of the real notebook. And that's right, number one is My Name.

    Both groups waited, while the officers commanding these units stood next to Soda standing in front of the groups. The Que-Toyne Ensign was commanded by Captain-Chorse Viktor Kracht a middle-aged man with a bushy beard and equally bushy brown hair. He was the best officer of the Que-Toyne Dragon Riders and his unit of Knights of Blue from the color of their armor was popularly considered elite and very adaptive which is why they were chosen for this training.

    He doesn't have much combat experience, no less, other than patrolling and warding off the occasional intruder from Louria.

    The Quilla Ensign, on the other hand, was commanded by Apophis Hab, he was an Inp and his short-cropped coat was gray-white in color reflecting his very mature age. He was a veteran of many battles, which was well illustrated by his many scars, including a nasty one going across the side of his muzzle exposing his teeth on the right side, giving the impression that he was eternally angry and bloodthirsty, which while helping on the battlefield was a hindrance in his private life, scaring women and children in particular, which is ironic since he was famous for his chivalry and for helping numerous orphans and single parents, especially refugees who were ex-slaves from Louria.

    The two commanders were a bit friendlier to each other than their own people although there was a dispute between them especially regarding training vs experience. No less, both men kept it more friendly and preferred to work together on how to put the two things together in a better way rather than shitting on each other about who was better.

    "When will they finally arrive? We've been standing here for a while and the boys are getting bored and are about to start docking." Said Kracht after a few minutes of waiting. "Not long from now." Replied Soda

    "That was about half an hour ago," Kracht noted.

    "They are not far away." Interjected Hab, both human officers turned their heads in his direction "How do you know?" Asked Soda and Kracht involuntarily parried at this altogether silly question. Hab, on the other hand, undeterred, replied by moving his ears "I can hear them,better than you can man. It's a strange noise but similar to those of your flying machines, you call them planes right?"

    Soda analyzed Inpa's answer for a while before catching what he meant and realizing his mistake. "True these are planes... You are able to tell them apart..." He paused when from behind the soldiers began to speak and, as he looked them over, show something in the sky. He turned behind their hands to realize after a moment that he could see from the south an incoming squadron of planes on the horizon.

    When the squadron flew closer he could count the number of machines, there were thirty of them, five in each key each, the fifth flew inside the formation. He whistled with appreciation. "I see they are going serious in military assistance" After which he looked around the area "Though it will get crowded with planes."

    Fortunately, his fears were not to be realized, for most of the planes as soon as they reached over the camp began dropping parachute loads from behind, causing astonishment among the ordinary knights who were seeing something like this for the first time with their eyes.

    They were no stranger to the idea no less it was far less efficient than usually landing on the ground, so the massive drop of huge boxes on parachutes was quite a shock in terms of scale as well.

    The officers, on the other hand, besides the Japanese, were more focused on another fact, namely the precision with which the loads were dropped from a height, away from the camp and standing men and yet close together so as not to have to collect them all over the place. They guessed that this required years of training and experience in such drops.

    Hence, the question was going around in their heads, how often did they have to use such a skill in action?

    Soda, on the other hand, only nodded appreciatively although a mocking smile under his breath broke out from behind the mask of calm and seriousness he had worn for the past few days. "We're showing off what? I wonder what other trick you'll show the natives to impress them." He muttered amused by the stomping of the Poles.

    And as if on cue, from the last key of machines that flew over the camp, the rest already turned back to Cameroon, jumpers jumped out of planes flying at considerable speed. Shouts of astonishment went through the troops of the natives while the Japanese and the Americans who were helping them only slightly nodded their heads as they saw how the Poles decided to make a show-off entrance.

    "They've got some nerve, motherfuckers." Said one of the American instructors, after which another slapped him lightly on the right shoulder "Boy, admit it you would like us to do the same." To which the first replied "Well sure, that's why I say motherfuckers, only we have the right to make an awesome entrance, although fortunately these punks don't rock."

    "So that you won't be surprised that this will be done in a moment Ed." A third also American interjected. Fortunately for Ed, the Poles didn't do that instead they reconstituted their parachutes at low altitude and smoothly landed on the ground close to each other after which in barely two minutes they packed their parachutes into their backpacks and formed a sizable marching column.

    Soda by eye estimated the number of paratroopers at about a platoon. But it was not the number but the appearance of these soldiers that made him wonder.

    Namely, if someone took a picture of this walking column and then put it on the Internet with the caption that these are soldiers from a futuristic CoD-style shooter with very photorealistic graphics you would take their word for it.

    Of course, as would be the case with reality, it wasn't something like power-assisted armor, or at least he didn't see anything like that, which would suggest some kind of servo assisted movement. No less the rest matched, large plates of armor in the style of knight's armor covering the legs, feet, chest and arms and hands, while on their heads were distinctive helmets that fully covered the head and face. He had a strange feeling that he had seen them in some very popular Xbox shooter series in America.

    The startled sounds of the Americans only confirmed his suspicions. No less if he remembered correctly those there were almost all black, while those on their armor plates have a camouflage pattern that blends smoothly with the uniform under the armor plates.

    Although they had some ordnance attached to their belt, it was too small for the needs of a soldier on the battlefield. He guessed that the rest was hidden behind armor plates, and left only what was absolutely necessary to be on hand.

    In the hands of most of them, they carried weapons somewhat less futuristic. Namely, the familiar Grot Carbines which in the Old World were designed by Poles and slowly put into production.

    The last thing Soda took care of was... singing. It was not overly unpleasant no less the leading singer, well he did not sound perfect with that hoarse voice. The words, of course, he did not understand, because they sang in Polish, which was rather obvious after all they were Poles.

    In turn, the words that Soda did not understand sounded like this.

    I wanted to join the cavalry

    I had to ask my love for a long time

    Listen kitty don't worry

    Because it's not bad at all in the cavalry

    Sokół(Falcon), propeller it is

    Two pilots operate it


    This was, of course, the first stanza, and they sang no more before they arrived in front of the gathering audience. After that, they lined up in two rows and the song leader moved to the standing officers.

    He gave the typical Polish salute to Soda, Hab and Kracht, Soda returned the salute and the native officers nodded, the salute so far not accepted among them.

    After which the Pole introduced himself by taking off his helmet with a slightly gray eagle painted on his head. Soda, on the other hand, was struck by his strange resemblance to a certain mustachioed Briton although instead of a beard and sideburns he wore a solid mustache under his nose making him look comforting.

    "Captain Jan Cena of the 6th Battalion, 161st Special Service Regiment of the Crown Army," he spoke to Soda's internal amusement in English with an impeccable British accent after which he smiled slightly and, slightly pointing with his hand, added, "I heard you were having some supply problems so I asked Santa Claus and his airborne helpers to deliver some new cool toys that no one was using and it would be a shame for them to get dusty in storage."

    While Soda and the other Earthlings smiled at this, the natives looked at Cena dully. After a long moment, Soda figured out what was going on. "This Pole's name is Jan Cena and he is a captain of troops similar to us and says he has arranged more supplies for us" He translated the meaning of Cena's words for Kracht and Hab.

    Both natives nodded with satisfaction. After which they briefly introduced themselves to the Polish officer through Soda who acted as translator for both sides. Then, after a brief additional presentation from the Polish Special Forces, Soda ordered the trainees to disperse and led the Captain and his men, along with the native officers, to a prepared section of the camp for them.

    There, the Poles, under the curious eyes of the natives and their instructors, very quickly and efficiently set up their camp which, on the whole, differed little from the camps they knew.

    Then the commandos, with a group of soldiers and instructors assigned to help them, set off to unload the huge crates that had been dropped, and Cena went to the staff tent to talk in private with the officers.

    Here Cena became more serious and, after placing his helmet on the table, said, "Okay gentlemen, coffee table what is really going on here? I had a very laconic presentation of the situation and only a few days to prepare it all."

    "Well Captain..." Soda began and spent the next hour with Hab and Kracht explaining to him the prevailing situation for several months and the general historical background of the conflit. Cena sometimes asked questions for additional clarification, and sometimes threw in an accurate and sometimes vulgar remark commenting on what he thought about it.

    "Now I can see what your intention was and why exactly the list of equipment I was supposed to arrange looked like this and not otherwise." He replied after Cena's explanation while holding his chin in thoughtfulness.

    "That's right, what's more we here have had some problems with the delivery of modern equipment or even older equipment being withdrawn into storage." Replied Soda and Cena nodded, "I know, I heard something about your... political idiots. What must these people have in their heads to continue to hold on to this despite a completely different situation for Japan?"

    Soda shrugged his shoulders, not really thinking about it. He was simply doing his job, leaving political matters to his superiors. He knew well that the last time the Japanese military got into politics it ended badly for everyone. Very badly, we might add.

    Seeing no response, Cena tapped his fingers on the table then when interrupted he added, "Well, I guess that's enough chatter, it's time to show you what we brought right?" Soda agreed with this statement without hesitation, he was curious to see what their new donors had delivered. The two native officers did as well.

    Shooting range

    "Section Leader Białas, begin the presentation." Captain Cena ordered, and the called-up soldier, with the help of a Japanese soldier translating everything into Parpaldian which acted as the international language in the Third Zone, began to speak.

    "Greetings to the esteemed attendees, I am Section Leader Józef Białas and today with my fellow squad members I will be your guide." After which he bowed slightly then took a rifle in his own hands from the prepared stand after which he began to explain. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the basic self-automatic rifle of the Commowealth Armed Forces, namely the kbsp wz.98MZ Argon which is a modernized version of the very good kbsp wz.38M Arsen. The differences between the two are essentially minor, the mechanism itself, cartridges or magazines are interchangeable, the difference is that the Argon is made of a different material lowering costs and making production easier, it has an added pistol grip and you can attach accessories to the weapon."

    To make it easier to understand what he meant, Białas showed both versions then gave them to the officers to hold. As soon as the Hab took the weapons he realized that the Argon and Arsenic were lighter than the Garands and Type 64 supplied to them earlier. "Interesting," he muttered under his breath. When they finished looking at the Białas continued, "The weapons are powered by 10-round magazines in the case of the Arsen or two 5-round gunboats, or exclusively by 25-round magazines in the case of the Argon. At the same time, as I mentioned earlier, the magazines are interchangeable. The cartridges themselves are 7.92x57mm caliber."

    "I have a question." Interjected Soda, Białas interrupted "Yes?" Asked Soda "You developed new larger magazines and only introduced them in the 1990s?" Białas nodded "Yes, during WWII we introduced automatic carbines and they took over the role of the main infantry weapon and the 10-rounders lasted a very long time for sharpshooters, it was only as part of the modernization of weapons that new ones were introduced, there was no need for them before." Soda thanked for his reply.

    Then Białas added, "The weapon is very easy to disassemble and clean that any average literate soldier can do it literally in the field and even in battle." And to prove this he disassembled the Argon into four large and difficult to lose parts and one small very cleverly used part that held the entire rifle together.

    Here the watching Americans' jaws dropped, except for one who, as soon as he saw Argon thanks to the well-known Gun Jesus, knew what to expect, and had a good laugh hearing his astonished colleagues. The Knights also present at the presentation, who had enough time to shoot themselves and clean the Garands of dirt, immediately wanted this weapon for this reason. With the simplicity of the Argon and Arsen, the Garand looked like a Swiss watch.

    The Poles then showed the weapons in action after which they gave anyone willing to try them. Here they had to admit that the Polish rifles were similar to the Garands and the few M14s, but beat them in every way, well almost every way, the sight of the American weapon was a bit more comfortable, although it was a small difference.

    After which, the next weapon to be demonstrated was the Universal Machine Gun or UKM-61D Bor. This was a belt-loaded machine gun similar to but different in detail from the Soviet PKM. No less loaded from 100-gun belts, it was an important reinforcement for the Knights who were unfortunately forced to use the obsolete B.A.R. as an infantry support weapon.

    In addition, the Poles provided a whole diverse series of grenade launchers of all sorts, from those hooked up to a rifle to stand-alone versions. Two types of mortars, a light LMP-17 and a medium SME-98. A large-caliber TOR sniper rifle powered by an absurd 20mm cartridge.

    The last weapon the Poles donated was their old but extremely dangerous NKM wz.38FK also powered by 20mm cartridges. Such a Polish equivalent of the M2 Browning with a larger caliber. That is, something the Japanese had not considered in their concept of airborne dragoons. Another thing is that they didn't give anything heavier than a light mortar and they skimped on grenade launchers, although this was due to the fact that they only had one type, and the Poles brought more than... ten of them.

    The Americans later joked about it that the Poles have be crazy about grenades. A slightly different matter is that they are right. Polish infantry doctrine stipulated that at squad level one should have at least two large grenade launchers, three underslung grenade launchers and that the primary weapon should be able to fire grenades. The goal was to cover any fortified enemy position with grenades.

    This stemmed from the Polish experience of the Polish-Japanese War of 1905, where it became apparent that something was needed to stun or drive the enemy from a position before a bayonet charge could be made, while at the same time not forcing artillery into the area or allowing it to break through a fortified position without using it. Hence the fierce pressure to develop grenade launchers that could be carried more easily than a mortar, and every Polish bayonet charge recommended throwing grenades at the enemy position first. Although over time the charge went from a normal tactic to a zone of when you're screwed do it, the custom of throwing grenades before breaking into an enemy position remained.

    Hence, the Polish interjection in the training of the Air Dragoons placed a solid emphasis on the use of grenades and an attempt to use viverns as airborne mortar emplacements, with mixed results of course.

    No less, after the presentation was over, the Poles this time gave until the end of the day the opportunity to shoot every Knight with every toy provided, and even with their regulation weapons or try on their helmets.

    Speaking of helmets, the Americans very quickly started asking if they could get the same ones as the Polish ones but in black. The Polish soldiers were heavily puzzled by this request, not knowing what they were really after and, unfortunately, none of the Americans took a game console with them to show them why and phones were obviously not good for anything in the area. Which in passing was a bit of a forced retreat for everyone from Earth.

    However, when the show was over and under the Polish tutelage those interested were already learning the new weapons Soda was dragged away for a more private meeting to the Polish command tent where he and his two assistants were to get the more boring part of the presentation but extremely important to the dragoons themselves.

    "Okay then, your boys and girls have been given toys to watch, now it's time for something that may not be as spectacular but extremely important and, more importantly, will greatly help the unit's performance." Cena began to say.

    "So what?" Asked Kracht curiously, in response Cena gave a nod and in front of the officers on the crates were placed different sized drones and a really small box which Soda recognized as a radio station but really absurdly small. Whereupon Cena countered, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the Wielowarstwowy Wielozadaniowy Misyjny Powietrzny Inteligentny Rój (Multilayered Multi-Purpose Mission Airborne Intelligent Swarm) or W2MPIR for short and how we like to say vampire"

    The natives looked at him like he was an idiot, what the hell does a vampire have to do with this. Only Soda's eyes lit up like candles. Of course he guessed what it was all about, and what's better he could already see with his eyes how a murderous swarm of drones would make the Lourians fuck up until they were dusted. "Wow," said Soda amazed.

    "What wow?" Asked a puzzled and dull looking Hab. "Because this Vampire will make the key of the three knights have the power to strike at least an entire flag of vivern... what I say will have the power of all the knights of Que-Tonye and Quilly at the same time!" Replied Soda the natives didn't want to fully believe. Such a strange small, well some not so small but still smaller than a vivern is a plane supposed to have such firepower?

    After which Soda realized something. "But right away it seems to cost its own money and you have this..."

    "No. We have it in the tens of thousands, and the whole thing is cheap as borscht." Cena interjected after which he picked up a radio station which was the size of binoculars as Soda pointed out "This just happens to be the most expensive part of this set, the TYTAN radio station. It costs as much as half the Cena of the Latające Oko (Flying Eye)," he pointed to a pretty big drone with a camera underneath it, "but it's the most important part without which sending drones wouldn't make much sense."

    Soda, on the other hand, just wanted to ask him about this radio station. "Exactly, what is this TYTAN for? What gives it away that it's so expensive." Cena tapped lightly on the radio station "As you would say, as I think you know there are two types of drones," Soda nodded, "controlled and autonomous. Thanks to this little miracle, all of our drones according to our doctrine can be fully autonomous even in a situation of complete jamming of all communications of any type including satellite but TYTAN has additional important pluses it was created as part of the TYTAN Program for the Polish soldier of the future. As you can see o this is the effect." He tapped on his armor.

    "What advantages? Because when it comes to communications our manacons are completely sufficient and even better than those technological radios of yours." Kracht interjected with a wince and Hab nodded and Soda in passing had to agree with them though very reluctantly.

    "First of all, the communications of these radios are so far to our knowledge unbreakable for anyone without a password or even to be intercepted because they can change frequency more than 700 times per second while talking," he said. Kracht and Hab nodded appreciatively, the manacons had this advantage over the radio for it was impossible to catch the transmission, while Soda began scratching his chin, it sounded a bit futuristic. "Secondly, they create a full-fledged combat network through which it is possible to transmit video, images and sound in real time between the larger version of the radio station, "Here the natives jaw dropped a little and Soda's eyes opened wider something like that in thanks to this baby? "directly from the cameras of infantry equipment or even ordinary telephones because it creates something like the Internet and what's better, these connections can't even be detected or jammed so easily and it works just as effectively in a dense city as in a complete remote area without the need for stationary posts or satellites. Including those that create a global map and roads so that our drones can travel on their own with only the location of all the radio stations that make up the map as a reference." That part didn't tell the locals much besides the map, which is why Cena turned on TOPAZ, the Polish command system, and showed how the area was mapped by itself. Those nodded appreciatively and the quality of the details of the area was something impressive to them. They knew spells that worked very similarly, but nothing that could do everything this radio station did.

    Soda, meanwhile, hung back for a moment, as he reached deep into his memory looking for familiar analogies. For he liked to look at what was happening in the industry to know where the wind was blowing from. He knew that the right technologies already existed and were being worked on. Hell, he himself had helped with the Japanese equivalent but he was still in the prototype stage, the Americans were further along in their program, he had heard of the Russian equivalent but what was interesting now was that he realized something that the names TOPAZ, W2MPIR or TYTAN he had already heard. It took a while before he found where he recognized it from.

    For these names were the ones used by Poland in his world. At the same time they were blinkers, TOPAZ is an old Polish command and artillery system developed since the 1980s, from what he saw in one trade newspaper the Poles have modernized it to a really high level, W2MPIR is some project of a Polish drone company, probably WB Electronic and TYTAN is also a Polish project of a soldier of the future but much more modest than what this TYTAN has apparently achieved. Although he heard that their radio station is supposed to work almost identically according to them and the Poles are eager to collect first-hand data in Ukraine.

    When he realized this, he just shook his head in disbelief at the coincidence. "Something happened?" He asked, seeing Soda smile at the Polish captain. "Well Mr. Cena, I have to admit that you Poles apparently regardless of the timeline create your armaments according to the same patterns."

    Cena, on the other hand, only got curious. "So why don't you tell us? I am curious about what our compatriots from another world have developed." Soda nodded, "Okay, but please forgive me for not knowing everything in our world Poland although visible is not so important and your armaments less known."

    At this, Cena clouded over, but Soda reassured him, "Although I'm a bit of a fiend for all news and interesting equipment, so I've heard something about it." After which he began a not-so-long-but-not-too-long story before Cena moved on to the next part of the presentation after which the officers began planning the training.

    Meanwhile, as day turned to night and in Lostrum, officers tired of discussion joined celebrating soldiers elsewhere, disturbing incidents were beginning.
     
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    Operation Rzucona Iskra
  • Batrix2070

    RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
    "RZUCONA ISKRA". (Thrown Spark)

    30 September 2022 Imperial Polish Calendar 21:37:00

    Captain Jan "Brytol" Cena

    JW GROM

    Outside the zone of Civilization, the Empire Gra Valkas. The continent of Maerica


    "Contact, patrol, 6 targets. What to do Brytol?" Said over the CYRKON combat net Ensign Jan "Mydło" Tomaszewski, lying flat on the ground under a bush in the dense forest to Captain Cena, who commanded the unit, "Let them pass."

    "Accepted." Mydło replied and tags appeared on Brytol's helmet confirming that he had accepted the order from the rest of the six-man Thunder commando team. Holding an SKW-89 Chlor sniper rifle was Szymon "Duch" Rilejski having a painted cadaverous skull on his triangular visor whose veil was always black in color. Behind him stood Grzegorz "Karaluch" Aleksandrowicz with his faithful CPM-8 submachine gun named Rura, the Karaluch himself is nicknamed unkillable and capable of receiving considerable wounds that would have sent anyone else to the afterlife long ago, hence the nickname Karaluch.

    Next to Mydło, meanwhile, was the team's chief heavy equipment operator Aleksander "Cyfra" Mason holding in his hands his beloved UKM-10 which he called the Cleaner. Cyfra disgruntledly added through a combat net that the Valkasans wouldn't even be able to find if they knew it existed, "Captain, they're coming right into a perfect fire zone we could kill them before anyone knew about it, and so we have to storm our target later that it will be loud."

    "Fuck Cyfra, I'm not fucked up enough to break through to the target while being searched by the enemy, if we have an opportunity to sneak in quietly, let's take it, later you'll shoot yourself." Replied Franciszek "Drewniak" Lóds standing behind the captain to his always narrated colleague.

    "YES and these six will disturb us as we fuck up the base." He began to oppose, Brytol quickly interrupted the discussion "Silence, Cyfra do not make excuses, and you Drewniak do not provoke well you know how Cyfra has a short flight, at the base you will argue like ladies." With that, the argument quieted down and the six-man Valkasan patrol, which for the Poles in their equipment and uniforms I remind them of their grandparents from the Third Great Continental War also called the Second or as recently started the Third World War, passed completely without noticing the Commandos buried around the path, behaving relatively frivolously, joking around or bantering among themselves, they thought they had hit the easiest job in the world after the Summoning as they made their way to Arcadia, after all, who could have wormed their way so deep into the territory of the Empire Gra Valkas without being completely noticed?

    Their language to the Poles sounded like complete gibberish and only thanks to the translation program in their helmets were they able to understand what they were saying, but it comes out so average, this was due not to the weakness of the translator this one was very good but to the fact that the Valkasan language was not completely broken and also in itself looked like someone took one of the human languages and completely twisted it using the rules of phonetics of a completely different language group.

    Many language specialists in Poland were tearing their hair out because of this and the AI, despite the sizable advances made over the decades, was not and still is not able to bail people out of some things, especially when it doesn't know where to start because the person who wants to use it doesn't know either. On the other hand, there are so many people in the Empire that it is cheaper to throw them in a large mass than to use special AI.

    As soon as the patrol left, the Commandos quickly dropped out of the bushes beside the path walking toward the base from which it was coming. The onward march was devoid of any unusual surprises, the advanced sensor system built into the commandos' armor formed an automatic system within the CYRKON network detecting every movement, sound and heat signatures transmitting the data directly to the helmets on the HUD.

    Movement represented by a motion sensor called a "lookout" by Imperial Soldiers showed allies on an orange dial in the lower corner of the HUD using blue dots, enemies using red dots and the last group conventionally called neutrals using yellow dots. Allies were tracked using an armor and helmet-built two-piece set of self/alien indirection. Reds were detected that they didn't have it and the sensor system detected with extreme sensitivity in the absence of the enemy's own-alien kit, speech and other elements that were characteristic of the enemy-for example, given uniforms give off a certain amount of body heat. Neutrals are simply anyone whose sensors are unable to determine who they are, or the analysis yielded that they are animals.

    Sound and its source were also shown on the HUD in the form of going from the center of small waves, while the development of thermal imaging and night vision has gone so far that not only have they become one and the same and can even be used in daylight, the corresponding program itself filters the image seen through the viewfinder.

    The whole thing was powered by fairly sizable but not numerous batteries hidden in the armor and helmet that could be removed and recharged with solar energy relatively easily. Fortunately, each commando had three sets of batteries for replacement. One set allowed operation for a full 24 hours on full power all the time, when set on optimal power for 72 hours and economical for up to a full week. Although depending on the setting, not all functions would work.

    Fortunately, the Commandos had no intention of staying long in Gra Valkas therefore they operated at full power. Therefore, they easily evaded every Valkasan patrol and lookout and any of their traps for uninvited guests were disarmed or avoided and, in the case of radio-programmed mines, reprogrammed to serve the Poles during the retreat.

    And so like a shadow or the wind they reached their destination. Captain Cena and his squad arrived at a picturesque basin and in it their destination was hidden. A small research base Gra Valkas located among the Palachian mountains. Small but significant because it was a deception intended to hide the real base under the mountains.

    Officially, it was a center for researching new means of defense against weapons of mass destruction. Unofficially, it was researching new means of attack with weapons of mass destruction. Pretty clever to hide it that way, right? At the end of the day, no one will ask unnecessary questions why new dangerous toys are being tested, after all, they have to do it to test protection for their own soldiers.

    After all, we don't want those to be exposed to a nasty death from chemical, biological, cluster, thermal or nuclear weapons. After all, new weapons are a byproduct of research, aren't they, gentlemen?

    That's why it took a while for Intelligence to figure out that something was amiss here. No less, although the air and satellite intelligence gave a fair amount of information, and the few agents of the Polish spy network in Gra Valkas passed on what they knew, it fell on the shoulders of the Cenas unit to find out what was going on here, and if suspicions were confirmed to do as much damage as possible and snatch as much data as they could.

    "Well well well, we've got some good traffic here, let's have the captain take a look at it," Mydło said while lying on the cliff and looking at the base below through the binoculars built into his helmet.

    "Transmit the image to my helmet," replied the Captain in the forest deploying light and small reconnaissance drone launchers LBSP-16 Licho with Karaluch.

    "Roger" And after a moment on the commander's HUD appeared the Valkasan base in all its glory, Brytol ordered with his hand Drewniak to help Karaluch, while he himself looked at what Mydło sees.

    "Indeed, we apparently hit perfectly on some remodeling. The Valkasans were kind enough to show us one of the main entrances. We won't have to wade through a ton of corridors and the occasional personal obstacle on our way to the warehouse." He raised his eyebrows in satisfaction.

    "Launcher ready Captain." Karaluch spoke up, Brytol looked at the prepared equipment. A small drone that looked like a small aircraft powered by an electric motor was ready to fly into the sky. Unfortunately, in order to achieve the ability to carry it literally on their backs, the designers at WB Elektronika had to significantly slim down the whole thing making them a disposable drone with a very short operating time of barely two hours and a limited range of capabilities. In return, it can be launched anywhere, needs no lengthy preparation and is fully autonomous.

    "Fire away, and have them map the area, when they do let them move away for a while, then they will serve as extra eyes for us when we proceed with the assault." The captain ordered.

    Karaluch nodded and made the necessary preparations after which, with the help of Wood, he launched them high into the air. The four small drones quickly got to work, and thanks to their engines they were almost inaudible, although the noise below effectively muffled their sounds.

    The chaos in the pit, combined with the relaxed attitude of the sentries, after all, what could get here made almost no one pay much attention to the Lichs flying in the air, and those few who noticed considered them mere toys that someone from the staff was playing with, after all, there were such small radio-guided planes and it happened that bored soldiers or researchers played with them from time to time.

    The drones, meanwhile, intercepted everything down below, allowing them to effectively map and prepare a plan to strike the base for the Captain.

    "It's all so simple, Captain. Too simple in my opinion. I don't like that we got here so easily, I feel in my bones that something is not right." Duch away, he stared at the augmented reality map of the base mapped by the drones, displayed thanks to his helmet.

    "Are you a coward Duch?" chuckled Cyfra mockingly

    "No." He replied rolling his eyes behind the viewfinder Duch

    "What you're panicking about, they don't even know we're here. And with our technology, those grandparents might as well have blindfolded themselves and plugged their ears. They're in no position to know we got here. Well, until we make a brothel here."

    "Calm Cyfra" The Captain spoke up after which he included the prepared plan on the map. "Okay gentlemen, the plan is as follows. We will divide into three sections, two assault and one support. Duch you lead the third support section you stay here" he pointed to a point on the map "you will cover us from above. And these places" corresponding markers "are your designated hiding places. The Karaluch will cover you."

    "Myself and Drewniak as the first section will attack from here," he pointed to a green star located in the southern part of the base, "and push forward through ourselves to here," he indicated a large building going into the wall of the mountain. "There we will make a mess and turn off the base's electricity for good and divert attention for a while."

    "Mydło and Cyfra, as the second section, on the other hand, will start from here" in the northern part, close to the mountain wall the blue star began to flash "and they will move towards the main entrance and secure it. We will join them when they secure the entrance. Then Mydło and Karaluch will be tasked with keeping help away from the entrance. You are to do this for half an hour after we go inside. Communication will most likely not be possible from the underground, so if we don't return by then, it means we have failed the mission and you are to evacuate to Sokole Oko."

    "The assault, on the other hand, will begin when Sokole Oko fires on the base. Any questions?" Finished the argument Captain. None of the commandos spoke up.

    "None? Good, then get to work. You have ten minutes to get into position."

    Lt. pilot Mateusz Morawiecki

    17 Special Operations Squadron


    The base itself was arranged in an extremely charming corner, and immediately appealed to Mateusz. And the way the little people on its grounds were busying themselves was a sight pleasing to his eye.

    It's a pity that as soon as he gets the sign he will have to blow it all to hell. Well, service is no second best, and for the sake of the Polish Empire, unfortunately, beauty must be sacrificed more than once for the Empire to prosper.

    Therefore, sitting safely in the cockpit of the VLOT aircraft, CZL.75D Czajka, he admired as much as he could of the landscape visible through the glass before rocket fire fell on the area like a hammer.

    There was something to admire, not far from the base there was a nice river that went through the forest, the base itself was located in a basin surrounded on three sides by the cliffs of the mountainside showing the stones and minerals found here and there that glittered from the sun hitting them.

    The mountain itself, on the other hand, seemed to shine from afar, but because the land was difficult to access from land it remained largely untouched by human hand.

    "Sokole Oko (Hawkeye), this is Barbara-6 how do you hear me?" The radio with the Captain's distinctive voice played, Mateusz turned off the zoom on his helmet and focused on the radio.

    "Barbara-6, this is Sokole Oko, I can hear you loud and clear, what status?" Replied Mateusz confidently

    "I am relaying the coordinates of the targets, did you receive?"

    Mateusz quickly checked the data he received, he got a full map of the base with the targets marked, most coincided with those previously marked, only a couple were deleted or changed from the original map.

    "Targets picked up, Barbara-6." Confirmed Mateusz

    "Open fire in eight minutes."

    "Roger Barbara-6, open fire in eight minutes. Over and out." Mateusz replied, then activated the targeting system and aimed at each target marked below and a few kilometers south of him.

    He watched through the combat net as Cena's squad took their positions killing time, honestly it was too easy, the enemy didn't even have a chance to see him other than with his naked eyes provided someone ventured into this part of the mountains. And even if he knew, how was he supposed to stop a series of Grzmot (Thunder) missiles? He had barely mastered the basics of firing unguided rockets.

    And as for the enemy machines, good riddance that any propeller-driven aircraft could have caught up to the Czajka let alone shot down this pretty big transport plane that could hover in the air like a helicopter. And Mateusz could have gutted them with his rotary 20mm cannon just as well with his eyes closed, letting the targeting support systems guide his hand.

    Therefore, bored, he waited those eight minutes, hovering over one of the mountains of this mountain range, then pressed the button responsible for firing a series of four missiles, then again and again and one last time so that a total of sixteen Thunder missiles, in his opinion an exaggeration and a waste of money, would flash to their target.

    If only every action looked like this one he could almost like the war. Almost, because he wasn't a psychopath or sociopath, and even the impersonality of what he did couldn't obscure one fact.

    That he just slaughtered dozens of people effortlessly.

    And today he was not the only one.

    Ensign Jan "Mydło" Tomaszewski

    JW GROM


    "Oh it's just flying." Said Cyfra briefly, noticing on his helmet the symbol of incoming missiles, after which the Grzmots, true to their name, slammed sharply into the base startling everyone in it. After which more came to bring death, these fell straight on the magazines, one as Mydło noticed must have been full of some kind of special ammunition, because the explosion tore the magazine to shreds bringing death to dozens of people, because a whole bunch of contacts marked on the helmet suddenly disappeared.

    Then the alarm sounded, but before it could do anything another wave arrived which blew up another part of the base while damaging the base's radio system, causing the siren to play intermittently, which played on Jan's nerves.

    The last wave of shells arrived no less suddenly than the rest and blew up both the huge fuel tankers standing in the western part of the base and the support vehicles performing the same role and the fire of burning oil and gasoline contributed to shrouding the entire base in black smoke, a perfect veil for the Imperial commandos.

    "Move!" He said to Cyfra and in the background, shots began to ring out from the Duch's sniper rifle, which began to spread chaos by shooting off officers, non-commissioned officers or anyone who tried to embrace the mess around them.

    Both of them threw themselves into a run easily running down the slope to the base, they quickly reached the lickety-split netting meant only to mark the boundaries of the base, no one who built and designed this base expected anyone to get here by quietly slipping through unnoticed by base security.

    Mydło quickly pulled out a bayonet-knife and turned it on after which he cut the flimsy wire with the red-hot blade with a couple of swipes as if he were cutting the air just as well, creating a breach in the mesh.

    They then both walked quickly through the breach and headed toward their destination, a huge steel gate in the mountainside hiding the rest of the research facility.

    Without much difficulty they made their way through the spreading chaos avoiding combat, thanks to their armor and airborne auxiliaries they could see the markers where the enemy was, although there was an audible echoing of rifles signifying that Brytol and Drewniak were being forced to make their way through the enemies to their destination.

    It was only in the last meters that Mydło and Cyfra encountered resistance, running into a group of soldiers running out of the mountain.

    One Valkasan immediately spotted the foreign soldiers and shouted "Enemy!" before Mydło opened fire into the crowd, followed by Cyfra. The enemy was initially suspended and the misstatement caused those to start looking for where the enemy was instead of falling to the ground.

    Therefore, the two Poles managed to knock out half a group before the enemy began to move and counterattack with fire. Unfortunately, coordination lay and the officer who could coordinate anything was one of the first to die, and individual NCOs in the face of enemy fire were preoccupied with not getting killed.

    Cyfra, in particular, took considerable credit for this by sending quick bursts from his machine gun at the enemy, mowing down some of them like grain.

    Cyfra's heavy fire effectively prevented accurate Valkasan fire which made Mydło take down one by one as if it were a shooting range. It would be too easy if he could do that to everyone right?

    Therefore, fate decided to make their task a little more difficult through a heavy machine gun position located inside the grand entrance. To be more precise, through two positions which effectively covered the entire foreground of the gate with their fire.

    The gunmen, who only now realized that someone close to them was massacring their comrades, opened fire, forcing the Poles to seek cover, fortunately the smoke, which kept growing and hiding more and more, allowed the Poles to break contact relatively easily.

    While assault rifle cartridges commando armor can withstand for quite a while without much problem, rifle cartridges fired at machine speed can no longer.

    "Damn it, two HMG." growled Mydło as he hid behind the remains of the wall of one of the buildings across from the Entrance then joined up with Cena "Brytol, we have a problem, two bunkers are placed in the entrance!" HMG bullets flew over his head, the gunner apparently firing blindly.

    A moment passed without reply before Mydło growled again "Brytol, it's Mydło, can you fucking hear me?"

    It was only then that the Captain's voice rang out on the radio, "Mydło, this is Brytol, I can hear you, unfortunately we have a small complication, the matter must be handled by yourself."

    "Kurwa!" Cursed Mydło then added over the radio, "Roger Brytol." He searched for Cyfra's marker and quickly found it hidden behind an armored car that had been turned on its side from an explosion, he sat on his ass and looked to the side looking for targets. Then he looked again at the entrance and the two bunkers. "Damn, we could use a grenade launcher but only Drewniak has one," he said. After which he huddled behind the wall again when some stray series, as he thought for a moment, flew over his head. Thanks to his helmet's systems, he had the flight paths of the bullets displayed as if on his hand so he knew where it came from.

    Another series of bullets led him out, someone spotted him and started shooting at him. Very dense shooting, he counted four markers.

    He let Cyfra know where he was and told him to hit them from the flank, while he himself went to a better position after which he opened fire towards the markers, fired a couple of rounds in their direction but only when Cyfra changed position did he see their silhouette frame showing how many silhouettes were hidden from his point of view.

    He calculated the correction and began to shoot and Cyfra with his UKM supported him, quick commands and reports on the sectional channel through CYRKON together with the helmet's updated assessment of the situation through various markers allowed the two Commandos to easily stamp out a four-man team of opponents who, through the smoke and chaos, were not only demoralized but blind and deaf.

    When they finished Cyfra joined him. "Then what's Mydło's plan? Huh? How do we knock down these bunkers?"

    "I don't fucking know, look for some of their grenade launcher or guns." Replied Mydło to Cyfra, the latter only shook his head "Thanks a fuck, Mr. Obvious." After which he added under his breath, "Look for it yourself, idiot."

    Mydło, on the other hand, was busy calling Duch, "Duch, this is Mydło, we need help, do you see anything that can be used to blow up a thick concrete wall?" He waited a moment before Duch's cool voice rang through his earpiece.

    "Mydło, this is Duch, Wait, I'm checking." He said this calmly as if he were talking about the weather in single words. Meanwhile, another team of opponents ran into Duch and Mydło, which they had to deal with.

    And in the midst of the shooting, Mydło picked out shots from Chlor Duch's rifle, and on his helmet he noticed after a moment a flight path coming from above. Loud shouts rang out from the crowd of opponents which most likely meant a sniper. And to Mydło's ears came the chill of Duch's speech again, "Mydło, this is Duch, I noticed that a couple of them had primitive recoilless guns with them. I took them down, marking their positions."

    "Accepted," Mydło replied and on the ground in front of him appeared golden markers denoting weapons. "Cyfra, cover me, I'm going to get our new toys."

    "Understood." Replied Cyfra, then started covering fire and Mydło went on the run using the smoke, Cyfra's fire support and Duch to get the weapons.

    When he was right next to him, he felt bullets crashing against his cuirass, and a red arrow appeared on the HUD showing the direction of the shots, and a small simplified picture of all the armor on the right side of the HUD popped up showing the locations of the hits and the condition of the cuirass. He instinctively fell to the ground, then as soon as he targeted the marker he opened fire. He fired a couple of rounds at the enemy, as soon as the marker disappeared, he started crawling toward the marked weapon.

    As soon as he crawled towards them another bullet hit him, this time in the right shoulder and bounced to crash on the asphalt.

    "Got him!" He heard Cyfra's voice after which a short series with a distinctive bass flew over his head and removed the shooter. He took a quick glance at his surroundings then moved the rifle to the side using the belt attached to it and slung about his neck. He then searched for and took to place next to him two recoil cannons, a large and heavy damned thing that looked like a sewer pipe in rotten-green color, identical to the color of Valkasan uniforms after he began to look for fragmentation and demolition grenades next to the corpses.

    It was not an easy job, he had to bend lower every now and then, the Valkasans insisted on shooting him down and in addition he had to check the cannon grenades themselves by feel, the Valkasan alphabet was one of those things that could be read without much difficulty, it was very close to Latin but had some features of Cyrillic, an ancient alphabet once used but eventually supplanted when Bohemia-Hungary conquered the Balkans in the Middle Ages after the fall of Byzantium and Poland conquered Ruthenia and effectively assimilated the Ruthenians with itself, hence the popular name pseudo-Cyrillic, but when the Valkasan language itself was a mess and their alphabet even more so what with the combination that few people know what the Cyrillic characters mean making it impossible to develop a fully functioning translator of inscriptions from that language.

    Hence Mydło exerted his brain trying to figure out which grenade was which, fortunately the colored borders were somewhat helpful, only that as always in Gra Valkas they had to be the complete opposite of what they were on Earth. Which annoyed him, of course, as did all of Gra Valkas which was so similar and yet so alien.

    He searched like this for a long moment before an unpleasantly close shot flew over his head, too close in Mydło's opinion. Although the latest-generation infantry armor designed for the Imperial Army's Commandos was the absolute pinnacle of resilience, well, at least until a new one was developed, it was nevertheless not durable indefinitely.

    That's why he quickly took the bag unbuckled from one of the dead around him, tossed everything inside and loaded the recoilless cannon grenades inside. Of course, he knew that this wasn't allowed, and if something hit the bag it would turn into a one-man rocket at best, and at worst into armored shreds of flesh, but he didn't have much choice.

    He threw the bag strap around his neck, then took the two guns in his hands and set off at a run back to Cyfra. During that run, he had the opportunity to feel his back being caressed by the Gra Valkas rifles, but luckily he managed to fall back behind cover when a series from an HMG flew toward him easily splitting bricks like a watermelon's baseball bat.

    "You and your damn luck." Mumbled Cyfra noticing this out of the corner of his eye. After which he took one of the cannons from him. "So this will be our opener?" He began to look at the cannon before expressing his opinion, "A gaudy old piece of junk. It reminds me of those old Arcadian bazookas from the Third Continental. My great-grandfather brought one home as a souvenir, if I remember correctly he acquired it when he fought on the Zamorian Front with the Arcadians."

    Mydło rolled his eyes at this time put down the bag and poured out the contents "This is not the time for family memories Cyfra, your grandfather from Alashka."

    Here Cyfra interjected "Zamorze!(Zamorian) Not Alaska!"

    Mydło waved his hand "Whatever you call it, help me with this shit." Only now did Cyfra notice the scattered cannon grenades. After a quick look, without hesitation, he took a grenade from the ground with a pink ring in Mydło's opinion, "This one" Cyfra spoke up

    "What's this one?" Mydło asked bluntly

    Cyfra snorted "Are you looking for demolition ones?" Mydło nodded "It's the ones with the purple ring that are the demolition ones."

    Mydło raised his eyebrows "Are you sure it's not pink?"

    Cyfra made an ungainly face "Seriously? Are you asking that?" Mydło looked at him without saying a word and above their heads the remnants of the upper floor were hit by ordinary infantry grenades fired from a grenade launcher and dust and remnants of bricks, blocks and plaster fell on their heads.

    "Okay you're right." Mydło admitted after a moment and then when he had taken a brief look at the situation in front of him he turned to Cyfra as he began loading the cannon "And how do you know it's demolition?"

    Cyfra didn't answer right away, instead he put the cannon on his shoulder, tilted his head to aim through the sight then checked for something behind him. Then when he was sure it was safe he aimed and before pulling the trigger tongue said, "I just like to paint." Mydło sensed the irony in his voice before the bullet flew out with tremendous power straight at the target.

    Cyfra apparently got pretty lucky, the bullet hit the target, although Mydło didn't notice that anything had happened to the bunker but the explosion and the very strong swing from the star of the rifle barrel combined with the loud but muffled sound of the explosion betrayed what had happened. Mydło whistled in awe, "That was the shot in a million."

    "Right? And what a landscape I had to make!" Laughed Cyfra mischievously after which Valkasy decided to respond, or more precisely, the twin machine gun position which decided to fire at the position from which it was fired. Nevertheless, the flash from the back of the barrel pierced through the smoke with ease.

    Cyfra fell to the ground immediately as soon as the first bullets smashed into his armor. "Damn they're fast." He chuckled as he stopped breathing quickly.

    "Like armor?" Mydło was concerned

    Cyfra waited a moment before chuckling, "On normal, it was close but nothing got through. Although I don't recommend it, it hurts a lot when you get hit. Like a blow to the solar plexus from an experienced boxer."

    Mydło nodded with understanding, then a bolt of bullets rained down on their hiding place, the swish of flying bullets was unpleasant as hell and the splintering shrapnel although they could do nothing to either the armor or the protective layer under the plates annoyed them both.

    "Okay, we're changing the position. The bastards will shoot like crazy at this position." Mydło said repeating himself. Cyfra just nodded without paying attention.

    Both Commandos limped off and took all their equipment with them, the launchers were thrown on their backs and the grenades were taken by Cyfra, who just happened to have room for them, ammunition was rising at an alarming rate, moving out of the building, Mydło, who displayed a minimap of the area on his HUD, led the way to another building. He intended to sneak across to the twin of the current building on the other side of the road.

    So they bounced out of the entrance, further not sure why Valkas didn't close it, and headed down from the top to use the big hall when they passed a couple of buildings to sneak to the other side and back up again.

    The plan was as simple as building a cepa, the problem lay elsewhere. In its execution, to do so they had to break through the Valkas soldiers running around like headless chickens looking for them. Even though the base's entire communications with the world and all units in the area had been cut off...

    No that's the wrong word, a better one was replaced by fake. The specialized AI aboard the Sokole Oko controlled by the team's specialist hacked into the Gra Valkas channels, ripped all the voices and style of speech of everyone it acquired and began repeating with the help of synthesizers and the original posts were temporarily removed from the communications network of the Gra Valkas Imperial Force by the AI.

    Unfortunately, due to the fact that language poses some problems, in fact the AI was forced to repeat the commands it heard in various forms and the whole point was that the command hoped that by the time anyone realized from the Valkas that something was wrong, they would have escaped.

    Unfortunately, while the Poles could simply take away their opponents' wireless communications and sabotage cable communications, they could not get rid of couriers or simply noise.

    This would require a much larger number of soldiers and, after all, the Poles care about speed which a large troop contradicts.

    Well, and they had to perform many different such actions at one time, Gra Valkas stupid were not. They are well aware that this is the work of Poland. Thus, about ten and a half thousand Polish commandos scattered over the vast territory of Gra Valkas that day carried out hundreds of different actions of sabotage, assassination or simple terror in one blow to break the organized system of the Empire.

    That's why Mydło and Cyfra had to make their way through a whole lot of enemies, running into the first ones just after sneaking into the corner of the next surviving building this time. "Contact!" Shouted Mydło after which he opened fire and Cyfra behind him pulled out a concussion grenade and threw it after a moment.

    He then dashed running ahead and fell to the ground in the middle of the passage to open fire with his UKM. A couple of rounds later, all the Valkasans were lying dead or languishing wounded, the commandos felt sorry for the bullets on them.

    "Madman!" Threw Mydło to Cyfra after which they both moved forward again to the big hall. There were no skirmishes at the side entrance to the hall and on the way there, the smoke in the area was very thick that only the markers on the HUD and the minimap allowed one to know where they were going. And a closed circuit was activated in the armories cutting off the unpleasant smell of burning oil and gasoline.

    When they reached the side entrance Mydło only stuck his head in slightly, the door was already open for refreshment before he said, "Damn."

    "What happened? A lot of them there?"

    Mydło shook his head in response. "That's not it, there are some of them yes but they are all dying. And I think I know why." Whereupon he walked inside as if nothing had happened, giving the sign for Cyfra to follow.

    Cyfra followed and got sick to his stomach as he saw what he saw. A whole lot of Valkas, a good portion of them not even soldiers lay dead, and only a few were still alive but their moans and animal cries betrayed that they would soon join them. Those who had the misfortune to live on were men in gas masks and some were in full protective gear.

    But it didn't help them much, in some cases walking forward he noticed that something had melted plastic and metal. Only after a while did the yellow marking on the HUD pop up all over his viewfinder and to his ears through his headphones a male bass said.

    CONTAMINATION DETECTED!

    SECOND LEVEL BIOLOGICAL WEAPONS

    LEVEL THREE CHEMICAL WEAPONS

    I RECOMMEND EVACUATING AND CALLING IN THE CHEMICAL TROOPS!

    REMAINING TIME 09:45

    "What happened here?" He asked dully looking at the counter

    "This!" Mydło replied, pointing through the markers to two trucks with loaded barrels and barrels around them and a sizable hole above them.

    "Fuck." Replied Cyfra simply, "Then what do we do?"

    "Nothing, let's get the fuck out as fast as we can by going through the hall avoiding those two trucks where it started, now we know why no one was around here." Said Mydło coolly calmly.

    Cyfra nodded as he looked at one of the maybe living or maybe dead Valkasan, the poor guy tried to protect himself with his mask but apparently the material it was made of interacted perfectly with the chemistry in the air melting the mask, then melted his clothes and skin which surprisingly lasted the longest, while a river of blood and bile could be seen all around him.

    He didn't know Cyfra why or why it was created, but the effects were nightmarish, and all in all, the weapon could be that quite effective in eradicating the living without much disturbance of heavy equipment, the mask that melted on Valkas' face began to immortalize his features like some kind of sickly death mask.

    Only the fact that he wears the heavy combat armor of the future in which dedicated protective gear is very situational and the ordinary soldier already has very effective protection against such inventions protects him from the threat around him. Well, and apparently this weapon performs poorly against non-metal, there are no reports of damage to the plates and the outfit under them which are made of armored graphene.

    Cyfra then hurried after Mydło staying away from the center of the problems there the effects were worst and some of the bodies really began to look like from some horror movie. And after all, a few minutes ago there had been a shelling of this position!

    As soon as they reached the end of the hall Cyfra broke the silence "Mydło you know what?"

    "What?" Mydło asked, checking the exit to make sure it was safe.

    "As soon as we complete this mission, let's ask for this place to be nuked, the damn thing can't escape from here."

    Mydło shrugged his shoulders "Whatever you think. Though I doubt General Shepherd will be pleased with this request." After which he glared at him "After all, no one fires nukes at some base in the middle of nowhere at the request of a mere sergeant because he saw a terrible weapon of mass destruction."

    "On the other hand, this explosion could spread the damn thing further. God only knows what will happen when you combine it with nuclear weapons, and I'm not going to try. We don't need real Supermuntants here, let them remain fiction." Mydło continued as they exited the hall and moved sideways to the back entrance, this time running.

    "You have ri..." He paused when they ran into more enemies. "Contact! Enemy in front!" Cyfra shouted.

    "I see! Hit them!" growled Mydło firing his rifle, Cyfra mouthed after a moment joined in and all thoughts and nightmare thrown into the back of his brain. Military discipline and indocrination took over again.

    The shooting was short-lived, there was no chance for the Valkas, they could barely see the Poles and could only pierce their armor without solid firepower.

    After which the Commandos moved again, found more defenders, another shootout which was an execution for the Valkas, and so on and so forth until they reached the twin of their former hideout. Without further ado, they threw grenades inside just to be safe, then broke in.

    It turned out that no one was there, and the building itself must apparently have been someone's house or a recreational building. Unbeknownst to all, the grenades had done a lot of damage.

    They then proceeded to look for a window from which the second bunker could be seen, after which they opened the window and tore down the curtains to keep them out of the way. They then loaded more grenades into the cannon.

    "Okay, we'll take turns shooting, I doubt we'll get as lucky as you did then Cyfra." Mydło instructed after which he positioned himself aimed and fired. And the dust and smoke from the back of the launcher covered the entire room. Fortunately, the armor went into closed circuit again, so they didn't take much damage.

    "Did I hit it?" Cyfra looked through another window into the entrance. "Yes, but you only damaged the wall."

    And when he saw how some of the opponents began to point to their new hiding place "And you put a stick in an anthill, there will be a lot of them here soon."

    "Don't talk just shoot!" Mydło retaliated by reloading the cannon. Cyfra complied with the order but the fired grenade changed course and hit the oncoming crowd of enemies spreading them across the concrete.

    "Fuck, miss." growled Cyfra then looked at the launcher wanting to see if something was broken.

    Mydło at that time fired and hit again but this time he hit the bore straight through which tore it apart and damaged the barrel. "A hit, pretty fucking accurate this scrap."

    "Speak for yourself, okay?" Replied Cyfra in the face of figuring out what went wrong, then dropped the already unnecessary cannon and took his UKM in his hands again. He then leaned with his bipod against the parapet and began firing at the approaching Valkas.

    Mydło reloaded once more after which he fired a scare shot inside the entrance and when he spotted the mechanism closing the Gate he decided to damage the whole thing just to be safe. Although all in all he was strongly puzzled why none of the Valkas thought it necessary to close the entrance.

    Although on the whole the explanation was simple, no one expected an attack so fast and deep without detection hence there was a certain amount of slack which gave a fair amount of error in the threat. Not the first time in military history, by the way. The unsuccessful first expedition to the island of Borneo in 1867, when General Stanislaw Koziej, commanding the entire expedition, allowed himself to be outgunned and beaten by a band of natives armed with weapons dating back to the 16th century, while having the most modern technological achievements himself, the first machine guns, semi-automatic rifles or modern artillery. Literally everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Even the most basic procedures were not followed because Koziej decided they were unnecessary and when disaster struck he couldn't handle anything and forgot a lot of things.

    Of course, he later tried to save himself by putting the blame on others, but the hand of imperial justice is long. He was sentenced to death through unnecessary labor in the penal colony of Alaska and his property was confiscated and distributed to the victims of his actions protecting his own ass and his failure in Borneo.

    Since then, procedures are always followed to the letter, and every officer and non-commissioned officer and even an ordinary private is guarded from their knowledge and ability to apply in any situation and adapt existing procedures to a new unforeseen thing. There is no word, I forgot in the dictionary of the Polish soldier.

    Mishaps do happen, no less, but never on such a scale as back then, and almost never again have such drastic steps been necessary.

    Therefore, despite everything, Mydło noted in his mind every event of today, every such illogical action and shortcoming, it gave a true picture of the state of the Imperial Armed Forces Gra Valkas and not what they tried to sell to the Poles. And this here they will collect could make a lot of difference and save time and trouble well into the future.

    No more Third Great Continental War. For the Polish Empire, this war was too much.

    And with this thought, Mydło moved with Cyfra ahead inside when they cleared the entire foreground and entrance of enemies. They quickly reached the gate's wheelhouse located just behind the bunkers but separated by another wall of concrete, pacified the operators and disabled the whole thing.

    "Here Mydło to Brytol. Gate seized, we are waiting for you." Mydło reported after making sure nothing could prevent them. All in all, it was an unsettling feeling, with almost no one inside. Which made Mydło very curious, wouldn't it be more logical to just hide inside the mountain?

    "Understood Mydło. We'll be here in five minutes, it'll take us a while. Keep an eye on the entrance. Over and out." The Captain replied and the sounds of fighting could be heard in the background.

    "Well, we'll wait, won't we Cyfra...?" Mydło started to say but interrupted as he saw that his colleague was anxiously looking at the trucks lined up inside the huge underground hall.

    "What's going on Cyfra?" Mydło was surprised but Cyfra said nothing instead he approached one of the barrels then noticed Mydło on his HUD that Cyfra was scanning what he was seeing and taking pictures.

    When he finished he said just one "Kurwa." Then he turned to Mydło and added, uncovering his face, "You won't like what's here. It's worse than Medziugore."

    Mydło, hearing this and seeing how seriously Cyfra was looking at him, only nodded, "Go ahead."

    Cyfra explained in short words what he meant.

    Indeed, Mydło did not like it. Medziugore by the way was an unconscious detrimental action by the way.
    And yet Medziugore to this day is an Exclusion Zone because of the contamination there.

    Mydło to this day has not forgiven himself for the disaster.
     
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    Band of Prussians and Uninvited Guests
  • Batrix2070

    RON/PLC was a wonderful country.
    Kingdom of Louria

    November 11, 1639 C.C.Y..

    Jin-Hark

    Royal Castle


    There is nothing better in life than listening to your country just crumble, thought sarcastically his royal highness Hark the thirty-fourth of that name in the Lourian dynasty, and the one hundred and fiftieth king on the throne of Louria.

    The worst part is that it's really all your fault and yours alone, which unfortunately Hark had to admit, albeit very reluctantly. After all, who more than him promised golden mountains if they accepted Parpaldia's proposals.

    And then it all went to shit.

    Six long years, six agonizing years during which he lied, cheated, pulled out, went into debt in order to amass a huge, truly huge horde of soldiers that would fall on the positions of the remaining usurpers on Roderius and finally unite the country under the iron circle of HIS power.

    Everything would have worked, they were already ready to strike only the gods decided to make a mockery of them.

    Suddenly these strange Nihonians arrived, literally appearing out of nowhere, those there quickly turned them over to their side, so the Nihonians decided to send them help. Caution and prudence dictated that they hold off on any action until they had more information about this new country.

    No, he didn't need those fools from Parpaldia to tell him what to do. He fucking isn't dumb as a shoe who ignores something as boring as, an interview about a new player in the area. He wouldn't stay in power by arming himself to the hilt without his own intelligence network. Just because he likes feminine sounds and very often even talks naked to everyone doesn't mean he lacks self-preservation instinct.

    On the contrary, compared to his predecessors, he has too much of it. His father would have immediately lashed out at the usurpers. That's how foolish he was. That's why he died an uneasy death in his own bed through an overdose of dagger steel.

    Another thing is that his arrogant creation of a lustful king was his personal way of playing off his opponents. At the end of the day, it's hard for you to maintain seriousness and caution all the time when the one you hate is acting like a buffoon right?

    But good, it was nice, after gaining information from spies and with the help of Parpaldia who quickly established contacts with Nihon, he learned two things. Nihon has strange weapons of unknown purpose so it is necessary to wait with the invasion for now, and that Nihon itself is a colossus on legs of clay whose needs to survive are greater than the ability to be supplied by her new neighbors.

    In particular, this colossus has a problem with something called public opinion, which is that if ordinary people get screwed, their government has a problem, which will make them have to go home. Add to that that they believe in something as foolish as pacifism.

    What idiots, this democracy of theirs is a fucking joke. What kind of moron came up with it? Ordinary people don't give a shit, if they riot they are pacified and a few of the more vociferous ones are hung in a prominent place and that's the problem. And still giving them a voice, an idiotic idea.

    Fortunately, it's not his problem, but Nihon's. Moreover, this dastardly system gives him a chance to do what he wants, however, especially with their idiotic but useful pacifism.

    The Nihonians, seeing that nothing was after them, forced by public opinion, went back. And they were already supposed to attack in the autumn, worse because it was closer to winter and the plan was to invade them in the spring to be able to start exploiting these lands this year, not some ditty they could to the goddess because the elves believe in it and so it should be so we limit our development.

    But good, at least there will be more to take and hunger can help get rid of non-humans.

    He was already glad that he would be able to get glory and more land after all, when another visitor arrived. This time of the kind who, when asked if they could send soldiers, replied, where?

    Zhechpospolita, these guys screwed him mercilessly. They simply came at the request of these savages from the east and Nihonia because they heard that Louria had the gall to suggest that there are inferior races and races that need to be exterminated because they are an insult to the world.

    What's more, they are said to be so rich that they helped Nihon with their very existence at the swipe of a hand.

    Fuck me, thought Hark for the first time when the Polish delegation arrived at the port and told them in diplomatic style to get the fuck out of the border or else there would be a very bad. Then, for the first time in his life, he felt that the world hated him and wanted to kick him in the ass every time he tried to do something more than his ancestors.

    He got pissed, obviously at them, and told them to get the fuck out and shove that miracle ship of theirs up their asses. Did he regret that?

    That he committed a diplomatic faux-pass, yes.

    That he expressed his feelings about what he thinks of the Polish proposal, no.

    No less, he couldn't just throw himself at the enemy. He knew what it would end with. He didn't need for that once again the fools of Parpaldia what treat him like a retarded child.

    The problem is that he will probably have to. The whole bunch he's called up under the gun are getting impatient, the bankers want their loans repaid, and more importantly "allies" are already plotting behind his back wanting to bring him down.

    He doesn't want to, but he has to go to war. Only by trying does he have any chance of getting away with it. He has no desire to share his father's fate.

    Therefore he raised his right hand silencing another of his servants bringing bad news. And everyone in the bathhouse looked at their ruler.

    Hark stood up and the towel fell down exposing his manhood. But the look on his face made no one pay any more attention.

    "Dear friends," began Hark's speech, and in the back of his mind he was surprised at how easily this obvious lie went down his throat. "I've had enough of this." Murmurs ran through the bathhouse.

    "Enough that the world on the last straight decided to destroy all of our collective effort with a mere threat!" He growled silencing the murmurs.

    "Aren't you guys also fed up with the fact that for more than a year now, every now and then another player appears who ties our hands?" He asked those gathered before him, while those present began to look around at each other, others hid their faces. A nervous silence fell, and it lasted for a long moment before one of those present, Prince Jonark Frans of the pro-war faction and one of the loudest supporters of striking at the usurpers from the east, loudly answered his king's question.

    "I have had enough! Let hell consume the gods, Roderius will be ours, no matter how many monsters they summon here to the aid of these savages!" Shock gripped everyone with this blasphemy, but it didn't take long as more joined him in their insults.

    "I have had enough, death to these primitives. Fuck the gods!"

    "I have had enough. We deserve Roderius!"

    "I've had enough!..."

    And so more and more began to add from themselves and the dominoes went, forcing more to join in this litany of blasphemies, insults to others and support for the king. Until finally someone called out.

    "I have had enough! Fuck Poland, Nihon, Parpaldia, Que-Toyne and Quilla. No one will stop us! Roderius will be ours, Philades will be ours, and those wretched lands summoned by those fucking gods will be ours! Let's put them down!"

    "Exactly!" Hark spoke up again, interrupting the litany. "Let's put them before the facts!" Everyone fell silent focused entirely on their ruler.

    "We all know little about these newcomers, most likely in battle they will quickly defeat us. But our target is not them, but the usurpers!" He said this as if it were revealed truth to his listeners.

    "Let's gather our entire force and strike with all our might very wide and fast to flood the usurpers like a wave. After all, these new ones can't appear in two places at once, and most of the clashes will just be with the usurpers, let's defeat them and these new ones will be forced to retreat!" He argued in a very concerned tone, Hark doing his best to capture the minds of his listeners so that they would not look at the holes in the plan.

    "Great idea my King!" cried a loud male voice belonging, of course, to a person who was not so easily fooled. "But who will carry it out?" General Prince Junfira mocked the royal idea.

    Most likely, he thought he could get him out of the way so he could torpedo his plans. He was one of the most resistant and against the invasion and because he was quite influential his voice carried a lot of weight. For him, the emergence of Nihon and Zhechpospolita. was a gift on which he could build.

    Unfortunately, Hark had his answer prepared, he felt it was the only way to escape the trap.

    "I will personally execute it by standing at the head of the army of conquest," he said.

    The king's words caused a shock that resulted in deafening silence and surprise painted on everyone's faces, especially on Junfira's face. It made Harka want to laugh at this, but he remained serious.

    "You, will you lead her?" said Junfir in a puzzled tone, ignoring court etiquette. Hark smiled in spirit. It worked.

    "Yes, I will personally lead it and win or not my name is Hark Louria XXXIV!" he clenched his right hand raising his fist upwards, becoming for a moment like an ancient statue of a warrior king.

    He waited theatrically for a long moment before Jonark was the first to clap and chant "Long live the king!" then others joined in and finally Junfira was one of the last to join in the applause very reluctantly.

    Satisfied, Hark lowered his voice and bowed theatrically, thanking everyone for their support. Outwardly he thanked everyone, while inwardly he thought of one thing.

    Rooms in inns located in the Kingdom of Riem are cheap. Cheap enough.

    Commonwealth

    Duchy of Prussia

    25 November Anno Domini 2020

    Barracks of the 1st Marine Division


    "ROTA, ATTENTION!" shouted an officer with the rank of Rotmistrz, or as they say in Goethe's language Rittmeister. Of course, for the uninitiated, a Rittmeister is a captain in the army of the glorious Republic literally meaning as a master of the rota.

    And the rota itself in Old Polish means company. In the Empire as well as in known Poland, the rota was eventually supplanted with the rank of rota-master to the rank of honor in the cavalry ranks but in the Republic it remained in its place to eventually become the rank of infantry captain, while the local equivalent in the cavalry is Chorąży or, translating from Shakespeare, Ensing or Standard Bearer or literally Bannerman.

    Ironic isn't it?

    Of course, this is not the beginning of the differences in rank but we will deal with that a little later. Let's return to the officer in command. The officer in question is Rotmistrz/Rittmeister Helmar von Kleist, a man in his prime with short dark blond hair with gray already visible in places and a short but bushy mustache. No, not a mustache in the style of the world's most popular German, slightly longer.

    In front of him stood his rota, which is 60 soldiers divided into four retinue (the equivalent of a platoon in other armies) which are commanded by captains (one of the first differences, the Polish captain is a level lower than in other armies) with the captain appearing only in infantry, in cavalry and artillery he is called a Companion.

    To further crank up the level of difficulty they are called Haupfman and Kammerad, respectively, in German, because, after all, it is a military unit of the Duchy of Prussia.

    Someone will ask, and can't this be simplified and make the whole system more pragmatic? The average Commonwealth Pole will answer, you can but why? We like it to be more difficult because we like to play with words.

    Of course, there are voices wanting to simplify this, but they are usually ignored because they are minor simplifications anyway and, secondly, the names of the ranks mislead the opponent. And yes, that Captain Price of the Crown Army only brought a platoon of infantry to Lostrum.

    Helmar looked at his subordinates for a moment, the look that fell on them was harshly evaluative. He unfortunately had something to say to them. "Stand easy!" the clatter of boots being spread around the parade ground.

    "I welcome you to another week, beginning beautifully, and I'll ask you in soldierly terms what the fuck is going on in this brothel!" the commander began his argument.

    "What is this all about!" He growled and the soldiers slightly began to look sideways with their eyes, "Feldhaus had one thing to say about it. They've grown up and fucked some people in the ass! Or to put it in military terms, it fucked the current up the tails! Never cut off or never trimmed!"

    "I have been saying since Monday since you first got your pay in your paw, spend the money well. And I was counting on the fact that a twenty-two-year-old horse understands what good means." Some of the new soldiers began to understand what was going on, the older soldiers made an unsteady face well they knew what was going to start.

    "And for him well, it means to get fucked!" He growled like an angry Rotmistrz, "And... make smoke in Rota!"

    "Lamb's head one of the other. Vodka is for smart people, and beer! And not for rams! The rams drink water from the trough... or sour milk. At most, they get shit!" Those responsible turned red in the ears and lowered their heads, but no one laughed.

    Helmar, seeing that the reprimand had worked, nodded and moved on to the next part of the roll call. "It's time to start training gentlemen, beautiful classes will be today." After which he turned to a couple of soldiers personally, "Tenner with Geeler, and company. It's time to get acquainted with the plan if you haven't managed to get acquainted by now. What's up in the retinue office, what activities will be on the schedule next week. What that fucked up Kleist came up with. Well, it's written there."

    "Tomorrow's class, in the tactical lane, because too much energy!" He continued by focusing on those mentioned but speaking generally to everyone. "They walk around, looking for the previous week, month like sleepers. They sleep the fuck out during the day, and then the canaries in the head hatch... and farts in the ass that you don't know what to do with. If there's too much energy, then to the cabin, there to store for themselves..." he made a theatrical pause to see the reaction "... and do their own thing."

    When he finished, he nodded to one soldier known for his hyperactivity. Then he continued, "The next flower, I walked into the soldier's chamber of the command retinue, of course, work clothes why take to the checkroom of any, why come to ask at the roll call on Friday at 2:30 pm, Commander what to do with the working clothes? Because they are lying in the hall, no one has indicated, the storage place. Where should we keep it, in the civilian, in the common room under the photo of the sainted memory of Thomas? Or at the NCO's table?" He asked rhetorically in an ironic tone.

    "No, hide, no one said anything. Throw everything under the cabinets. Let it stay as it is!" He chuckled out, then asked. "The first cabinet behind the door on the right whose?"

    "Trimborn." Replied one of the soldiers. "Trimborn" repeated Helmar "A numismatist has found himself, he collects coins." He sneered "So that he won't run out of those coins if he throws fucks anywhere he goes. And when he gets out of the army, he'll come back after a month to take it back because he can't get a job anywhere. Accept back. But he'll be the loudest screaming fuck poverty."

    "The drawer is not for coin collecting!" He turned to Trimborn "A few more flowers will be found there." He turned to the faery retinue. "Haffke I've been explaining to him since he came to Rota, since September to replace the cushion at the quartermaster's. No, what for? He sleeps on such a shit, the fafir has found. A mess where not to look! Pajamas on pajamas puffed out that until the pillow falls over. What I am talking about should not happen!"

    "But if instead of order one prefers to drink vodka, then later this is the effect. We'll still talk to each other with those involved about that door handle broken off, as long as they still remember what's going on! As long as they remember. What they did, in what way and with what results." He stuck his gaze into the right row.

    He then moved on to others "This is how it is like the duty service..." The duty officers assigned for the period scowled "...does the same thing, does not react! Well, because how does one not react when the danger begins, when the booze enters the rota, or the stoners enter, under the influence, and one does not isolate them. You don't report to the duty service, you don't call the squad leader when you need to. It's better to call and ask about free fucking than what's going on in the rota, then later what's left when the mess starts?" The gaze swept over everyone gathered.

    "Prayer! To the Field Ordinariate call, email." He continued by answering the question "WHAT SHOULD I DO? Poop! It remains to make a pile and dig in. Fly the white flag."

    "That's what the service is for, to react. Before! And not after! After, it's already possible to sip water and declare fucking abdication and bankruptcy. Because that's what you should do at this point." Helmar explained simply.

    "Because I'm finding out today, this morning! What is the phone for? Precisely to call the rota commander in case of need, so that such two rams do not make more smoke. Or so that someone in solidarity doesn't fuck them up. Because there have already been a couple of such professionals, they tracked down such a one in the kibbutz and walked around with a bruised face for a couple of weeks."

    "Also, beautifully the command retinue showed us off. He will immediately fly under the weapons depot, I will issue equipment. And we'll see you perhaps at lunch or at the dinner I'll bring you on the hill, so that the soldier won't accuse you of not eating after he built the observation shelter."

    After which he threatened with his finger, "And I wish that when I arrive I will see an exemplary observation post. Just so that none of you stick even a toe out of the tactical belt for me, otherwise I guarantee that you will be remembered for the rest of your lives."

    "The other mail, on the other hand, is to clean up its mess in the chamber." He turned to the previous culprits.

    "Questions? Complaints?" Asked the commander, answered by a deafening silence. Helmar nodded, "That's good, one more parish announcement. Our magnificent division has been designated as an expeditionary unit to this newly discovered continent of Roderius. The deployment will take place in a month and a half. Therefore, I expect that by then, the rams will have turned into real soldiers so as not to embarrass either Prussia or the Commowealth abroad. Clear?"

    "CLEAR?" he repeated again seeing the lack of response. "Yes, Rotmistrz!" Exclaimed the soldiers in chorus. Satisfied, he nodded "Attention! Command retinue and Second Step forward! The others Retinue! Command and Second, right turn. Forward march through the incinerator! The rest disperse!"

    Soldiers from the two designated retinue were unflappable, though the second more than commanded.

    "We're screwed." muttered Tenner

    "And it's because of you! You morons!" growled his colleague Strubelt quietly, "I said, don't do it. Kleist will get on all of our asses. No fuck, you should have been 'smarter'."

    "Shut the fuck up, smartass." retorted Tenner.

    "Hey, hey, hey take it easy Florian. We've already fallen for the Rotmistrz, don't make things worse." Geeler interjected.

    "And you too Hans?" replied an angry Tenner "Together with Ruth against me?"

    "No idiot! I'm protecting your ass. You heard what the Rotmistrz told us. We are going to Roderius among these savages. If you continue to behave like this he'll give us the worst job under the sun."

    "Oh there, what can happen?" Tenner asked rhetorically

    Principality of Que-Tonye

    14 February 1640 C.C.Y/ 2021 AD

    Forest on the borderland

    2 Retinue from the 4th Rota from the 3rd Detachment from the 1st Marine Infantry Regiment from the 1st Marine Division of the Principality of Prussia.


    "What can happen? Remember how you said that about two months ago?" Geeler mocked, then ducked as the spear flew over his head.

    "For fuck's sake! Now you're telling me off?" growled Tenner after which the man opened fire in the direction from where the spear came, a few shots later shouts of pain and anger could be heard.

    "Well, you know, it just so happens that it was because of your further uncorrected behavior that the Rotmistrz gave us the awesome combat patrol assignment in the fucking forest on the shitty border, on a continent where the border is a relative thing! After all, this is the fucking Middle Ages, here the border in the field de facto doesn't exist!" Geeler retorted

    "So, yes, I'm just reproaching you! Because if you haven't noticed a bunch of types in armor, armed with swords, spears and large rectangular shields are kicking our ass. Us, the fuck! After all, it's a fucking disgrace for a 21st century soldier like us to have just been held under siege and fighting for his life against a bunch of medieval warriors!" Geeler complained further

    "So what the fuck should I do? Apologize to you?" Answered Tenner angrily and mockingly at his colleague's accusations, then another spear this time a sizable one thrown with great force slammed into the tree behind which he hid that the sharp end went all the way through. "Wow" marveled Tenner "Who threw that?" A loud roar gave him the answer.

    Four huge creatures, four to five mêlée tall, ran onto the battlefield with a shout. Each wore armor and a helmet with horns going forward. One of them had no weapons instead reaching for a hammer hanging from his belt. The rest instead were preparing to throw like a professional javelin thrower.

    "Scheisse" muttered Tenner "A bunch of fucking trolls!" He added after a moment with a shout through the TOPAZ combat network and the system marked them with the armored car symbol.

    "Wait a minute, aren't the Lourians supposed to be an exclusively human army?" Pondered one of the soldiers of the retinue, Oliver Nagel, "I don't recall any native telling me about trolls in the Lourians. Rather, they are the ones who have such creatures on their side."

    "Maybe they are some warrior slaves? You know, here we have something like magic." Another private Jasper Vaupel replied.

    "But that doesn't explain this sudden breaking of their taboo! As far as I know the Lourians especially hate the Beasts that they kill anyone belonging to this kind of creatures! And yet they like slavery!" Nagel opined.

    "Gentlemen, can you stop discussing? This is not the place for it!" Geeler interjected, just in time because the other three threw their spears into the Prussian positions, the soldiers quickly began to take cover behind trees into which the spears were thrust one by one with great force. One of the giants threw with such force that it knocked down the tree behind which Geeler hid, the latter dodged at the last moment avoiding being crushed.

    "Zygmunt-2 is right. Zygmunt-4, Zygmunt-8 silence, retinue charge fragmentation-destruction grenades On my mark, load as much as you can into the damn thing. We've been playing with them too long." The commander of their retinue, Captain Sigimunt Mutig, spoke up, seeing what was going on.

    Soldiers happily pulled out and inserted grenades into grenade launchers of all kinds. Suspended or fired from the barrel of the rifle. Those who had other grenade launchers such as revolvers or anti-tank grenade launchers simply put down the rifle and picked up support weapons.

    Silence fell for a moment, those who attacked involuntarily stopped, the gunfire terrifying them suddenly quieted like a knife-cut string. At this time Sigimunt was marking who should shoot where. As soon as he finished he said, "Wait, let them charge at us."

    It took some time to wait because the enemy did not hesitate to attack, dumbfounded. Only one of the trolls growled loudly in some unknown language and together with his comrades rushed forward and behind them, encouraged by the courage of the giants, the rest of the soldiers who with a battle cry ran at the entrenched Prussians.

    "Yet!" He reassured his subordinates Mutig

    "Don't shoot yet!" He renewed the call as soon as the enemy got so close that one could smell the giants stinking as if they had never bathed anywhere but in sewage in their lives.

    "Feuer!" To amplify the effect, Mutig used not only a battle net but also speakers set at full volume shouting at the attackers who were already only 50 meters from their position.

    Therefore, a sudden foreign barking sound momentarily paralyzed the attackers by making them stand like statues for one brief moment, which allowed the Prussians to accurately hit them at their feet or straight at the attackers. Then the entire foreground around the defenders in one moment turned into a festival of explosions, groans, shouts of pain, curses and shreds of steel-clad flesh and broken pieces of trees such as bark and branches spreading all around.

    As soon as the ground and the smoke cleared, the defenders could see their work of destruction. Only large bloody shreds of flesh remained of the four trolls. Not much better were the ordinary people, broken shields, spears and swords were everywhere, while the armor effectively defended against shrapnel to a large extent, although one could see wounds on exposed parts of the body such as arms, legs because their enemy wore no pants and face. But that was not what caused their faces to contort in agony.

    The reason for this was their own armor, which broke under the impact of the shockwave and the shards of these fractures penetrated deep into the body cutting organs like a razor blade.

    Without specialized care, their chances of survival are slim, fortunately for many all the pain was so severe that it became their cause of death, only a few lived to the end with heartbreaking cries of pain.

    For a brief moment there was nothing but that, but the Prussians knew that it was not all of them, far behind the close combatants were archers, crossbowmen and slingers who of the three were the most dangerous because a stone thrown with considerable speed can stun even a knight in full armor.

    "FUR POLEN UND KÓNIG!" Shouted the Captain after which he moved forward and began firing again at the enemies hidden in the distance.

    "FUR POLEN UND KÓNIG!" Repeated after him by his men, who moved behind him to attack their opponents.

    This was already too much for the attackers, they quickly threw themselves into a panicked retreat after a while, the siege ring was broken, and the recent defenders threw themselves into pursuit, eager to catch up with the enemy.

    The chase did not last too long, passing more ruts, hills and giant trees chasing their opponent the Prussians arrived at a small clearing hidden in the shade of trees by a small stream.

    There they discovered that the attackers had started running into an old gate, similar to Roman triumphal arches, which was connected to a hillock. The captain ordered a halt to the pursuit surprised by the find.

    The surviving opponents from the chase, on the other hand, fled deeper into the building and the sound of their screams and running created an echo that bounced off the walls and reached them that they could hear them as if they were running right next to them.

    Florian Tenner decided to make a mockery of himself and shouted one word in Polish with a thick German accent.

    "ŚMIERĆ" (Death!)

    The echo of his sneer echoed and went to the other side. Slowly quieting in the distance.

    "Seriously?" Asked his colleague Geeler.

    Tenner raised his finger to wait for an answer, as soon as the loud terror of the fugitives reached them he replied, "Yes."

    "Man, don't scare the poor natives. I understand that you don't like Lourians for their bullshit..." Geeler started to lecture him but Nagel interjected.

    "It's not Lourians."

    Geeler turned to him puzzled, "What do you mean it's not the Lourians?"

    "Exactly, how do you know it's not them?" Tenner added

    "Look at this building, doesn't it remind you of something?" pointed out Nagel with his hand

    Both soldiers looked, looked. Then they shook their heads.

    "No."

    "Void in the head."

    Nagel put his hand to his forehead disgusted, then sighed, "This looks to me like a Roman-Greek style building. What's more, our opponents as I looked at them wore armor which clearly doesn't fit the theme of this continent for the natives wear Renaissance and late medieval armor."

    "And these ones here," he pointed with his hand to the last fugitives killed in the chase, "wear armor fitting for the late Roman imperial period but before the total barbarization of the imperial armies."

    "How did you know?" Tenner asked.

    Nagel replied with a smile, "By the fact that they don't wear pants. The ancient Romans knew no such invention, the Germans did."

    Tenner giggled involuntarily with Geeler.

    "So am I to understand that we encountered someone other than Lourians?" Captain Mutig entered the discussion.

    "Yes, Captain."

    "I understand, Private." nodded the captain after which he issued new orders "Secure the area, set up lookouts. I have a feeling that this was not the only squad of these..." searched for the word

    "Łymian?"* chuckled Tenner with a smile of chagrin, the captain sighed.

    "Be that as it may, I have a definite feeling that this was not the only branch of the Łymians that came out of that Gate."

    Loud laughter rang out for a moment, the captain just shook his head. "How am I supposed to report this to the Rotmistrz?"

    Principality of Que-Tonye

    18 February 1640 C.C.Y/ 2021 AD

    Border City Gim

    Command Staff of the 1st Marine Division.


    Surprisingly, despite the frivolous name, Rotmistrz Kleist took the whole matter seriously. He quickly passed it on to his commander, Oddział (Batalion) Commander (in polish Oddziałowy) Klaus Neef, who commanded the Oddział, that is, the equivalent of a battalion in other countries which included the Rotmistrz's rota.

    This one initially thought it was a silly joke at a time when tensions were rising more and more. Poland at the time was supporting two free countries and reorganizing their armed forces into a more effective fighting force, stabilizing Japan's economy to turn it back from the brink of the abyss.

    In general, they wanted to deter the Lourians by their very existence but were preparing for war. Military sappers from all divisions were drawn to Roderius to build the roads, railroads and airfields that would be necessary in a possible campaign.

    But there was no intention to attack, even though they could do so according to Arcadia's customs. Rather, the Commonwealth set its sights on continuing along the already tried-and-true path to take back Parpaldia's sphere of influence by softly influencing everyone in this way without a fight.

    Another thing is that the official political doctrine when it comes to war in the Commowealth is the old doctrine of Just War. That is, Poland proclaims that it will not invade or conquer anyone, but only defend what is rightfully its due or defend those who themselves have asked Poland to do so.

    The origins of this doctrine in Poland date back to the end of the Middle Ages for it was invoked by Polish diplomats under Wladyslaw II Jagiello in an attempt to peacefully reclaim Gdansk Pomerania, but it became official with the end of the 18th century when Poland, faced with the slowly sowing confusion in western Europe, announced that it would not interfere in the Franco-British dispute.

    Shortly thereafter, the Poles were forced to test their words in practice for the first time when France turned into a revolutionary republic and went to war with all of Europe. Anyway, that was when the Poles allied with Britain for the first and only time.

    The Revolutionary Wars were bloody and agonizing, especially between Poland and France for although both were republics at the time.

    Where Poland was a Commowealth or Catholic republic-monarchy ancien regime where freedom was understood as the right to something and equality was not and still is not the main ideological principle.

    There France was a Republic or secular revolutionary democracy where freedom was as freedom from something and equality was to apply to all.

    In turn, both knew and understood the principles of brotherhood very similarly.

    Ultimately, the Revolutionary Wars were won by Poland, for whom this series of conflicts became a factor of change in the entire system. Namely, the increase in the importance of the peasantry and the easing of antagonism between them and the nobility for it was the peasants in the darkest hour of the Commowealth who were the ones who defended it where the noble lords quarreled or even betrayed the homeland for revolutionary ideals.

    In view of this, the changes were total, the requirement of nobility to be an officer was abolished, the institution of peasant representatives to the Diet was introduced, peasants were allowed to sit in assemblies and more than fifty thousand peasant families were granted coats of arms and incorporated into the nobility for their services to the fatherland in the spirit of the Enlightenment while creating a legal tradition of adopting peasants into the family of arms by their lords when they felt they deserved it.

    I mention this because in Poland, the Roderius War has gained considerable public support over time, although this was for a number of reasons. One of the most notable, of course, is Que-Toyne's similarity with Poland's political system.

    An electoral monarchy with the equality of the noble layer as the only one entitled to vote, while disregarding religious, cultural and racial differences when it came to its inhabitants.

    Moreover, the local nobility was quite similar in thinking and ideals to the Polish nobility, which meant that the expeditionary troops in Que-Toyne very quickly found a common language with the natives.

    In Quilla it was a little worse but it was also possible to communicate although Japan is much more preferred there, but Polish-Tunisian relations became exemplary and Poland quickly replaced Japan as a role model.

    Hence, in Poland, a possible Que-Toyne war with Louria even became a personal matter. No less anxious to uphold their reputation as a benevolent and sympathetic power even in this world, the Poles avoided like hell any opportunity for a preemptive strike.

    Not wanting to sign up as an aggressor in this war.

    Therefore, Neef decided to deal harshly with the "jokers" and called on the rug the Rotamaster and, known as the black sheep in the unit, the entire second retinue from the fourth rota. What was initially intended to be a harsh sermon quickly turned into an argument that ended with Neef personally inspecting the building he found, the footage of the fighting and the battlefield around it.

    The rotary governor, trusting his nevertheless trusted subordinate Captain Mutig who had been specially appointed as commander of this retinue in place of the previous one to turn the foul retinue into a real fighting force, sent reinforcements and supplies at once.

    As it later turned out, they arrived at the last minute, for moments later the hammer fell on the positions of the second retinue in the form of the returning Łymians and the anvil of the new assault from deep inside the Gate. A fierce skirmish, limited due to the terrain to gunfire and grenades, ended with the final success of the Marine infantry, the newly attacking men escaped once again to where they had come from the Gate and the remaining Łymians on Roderius either died trying to break through to their own, were captured or fled deep into the forest.

    The latter was a threat because their aggressiveness combined with panic by being cut off from their own could cause them to degenerate to the level of bandits and provoke a war because Louria could consider them Polish provocateurs.

    Particularly since Parpaldia was formally a protector of Louria and in case of emergency could enter the war because it had a treaty with Louria stipulating that it would defend Louria from attack. The risk was all the greater because not going to war even on behalf of such an infamous kingdom as Louria undermined Parpaldia's diplomatic position, which of course the Empire could not afford.

    And the war with Parpaldia, even if it would have been a mere formality for the Republic, was an unnecessary inconvenience as well as something bad in public opinion in Poland because it was an unnecessary shedding of blood.

    Especially that while it was possible in Polish eyes to justify the war with Louria by the rightness of the actions taken, making the war with Parpaldia happen would be a considerable blow to the image of King Witold II and his effectiveness in the international arena in the eyes of the Poles.

    For no one deceived themselves that for Parpaldia and Louria the war would not end in a one-sided heartless massacre.

    You should know that these Poles do not like war, they do not like to fight. And if you tell them that they are a nation of great warriors they get offended. They fight wars because they have to, not because they want to. Of course they will show off their military, their fighting skills, but that's because they like just that. Showing off.

    Showing what they can do, that's why in the Poland all sports competitions are incredibly popular and the Olympic Games are so popular that the Poles themselves have organized their own mini Commowealth Games happening every two years. Of course, they don't mind eager foreigners, indeed, they even often invite others themselves!

    From there, Neef, seeing what was going on, gave the appropriate orders to look for fugitives and quickly went to the commander of the 1st Marine Regiment, Colonel Bjarn Buss explained the whole matter to him after which the latter supported him in his actions and together with him went to the commander of the 1st Marine Division, Legion Hetman Volker Wiekier.

    "Come in!" Shouted the Hetman outside the door before the colonel knocked. Both officers looked at each other in wonder, how did he hear them? After all, this is a castle, and the walls and doors are really thick by what seemed to both of them that it was colder than outside.

    The colonel opened the door first, followed by Neef. Neef took a quick look at the room he was in. It was the commander's personal office given to him by Lord-Captain Moizi of Gim, the local castellan and lord of Gim and the surrounding area.

    Neef, like most of the officers, took a very quick liking to this beatsmen despite the initial shock due to the fact that he was not a man. Endowed with patriotism and loyal to his family, he did not make obstacles to the arriving Prussians. On the contrary, he was grateful for their arrival, Louria since the Japanese were forced to retreat again began to cast its long shadow over Gim.

    In fact, he was devoid of illusions, knowing full well that if it came to war all he could do was to resist as long as possible by leaning on the city walls and the fortress, for his forces were insufficient to face the Lourians in the open field.

    The study itself, meanwhile, was nice, decorated with leather and carpets on the walls. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace. And by the entrance wall stood an armor similar to those worn by the Crusaders during the Third Crusade. That is, a helmet closed but slightly larger than a human helmet because it had to accommodate the beastman's head, a chainmail with a superimposed tunic bearing the Gim family crest, large cavalry boots. At his belt an old sword in a simple scabbard.

    The armor was old, and belonged to a distant ancestor of Moizi, the fourth lord of Gim a certain Rod called Blood, who defended Gim single-handedly when the village was just a village against an invasion of knight-bandits from neighboring Ladonia. According to ancestral legends, he fought alone against fourteen opponents with only a simple sword, killed them all cruelly and his armor was covered with their blood, but he himself was not wounded and from then on he was to wear his armor unwashed as a souvenir.

    Neef had to admit that there was something in it, because although the armor showed traces of weapons, it was not pierced, and moreover there were traces of blood, faintly visible, but nevertheless noticeable. The effect of time and preservation spells.

    The Hetman himself sat behind an old wooden and beautifully decorated desk, furnishing the room, in addition to which there were two old cabinets, a toilet and a sizable bed pushed aside.

    Of modern things, of course, there was no shortage of a computer, a radio, a map hung on the frame showing the area of western Que-Toyne and eastern Louria taken from the air and launched into space by satellites.

    In turn, the map showed markers depicting the deployment of Polish troops emerging as part of the Commowealth's Military Contingent "KUŁA-TOJNE".

    The Hetman apparently signed something before entering because he saw a pen set aside and some papers in front of him, he was standing now when the two officers approached in front of the desk.

    "Hetman!" The colonel spoke up after which he saluted along with Neef. The Hetman accepted the honor after which he signaled them to sit down.

    "Well, tell me what's the matter?" The already gray-haired old man began, pulling out his favorite pipe and putting it in his mouth.

    "An unforeseen event has occurred." spoke up first Colonel Buss.

    The Hetman raised his eyebrows "You mean?"

    This is where Neef came in, "My subordinates from the fourth rota under the command of Rottmeister Kleist, more precisely the second retinue led by Captain Mutig, encountered a new unknown contact provisionally named the łymians."

    Hearing the name of the new contact the hetman involuntarily smiled "I will not go into where the name came from." He took his pipe out of his mouth and twirled it, pointing it at Neef "But seeing your serious face I guess that the matter you come with is urgent."

    "That's right," nodded Neef, "Colonel and I have already taken appropriate action but we are concerned that our forces are insufficient to cover the needed area and guard the border at the same time, moreover, the other retinue has discovered an object that requires immediate security with special forces and contact with Warsaw."

    "Object?" Asked the Hetman curiously

    "My men," Neef pulled a paper folder out of his bag and then gave the Hetman photos in his hand, "found this structure above a small clearing in the forest west of the village of Drowaf at a distance of five kilometers. Interviews conducted among the peasants did not report the existence of this structure, moreover, neither did aerial photographs."

    Hetman raised his eyebrows even higher when he got two aerial photos that were taken in that area.

    On one it wrote January 15 and depicted only a sizable but nevertheless used forest without anything conspicuous. On the other it said February 15, with the annotation made fifteen hours after contact, and immediately striking was the appearance of a small clearing that revealed a stream covered by a canopy of trees and on it a large dome that was overgrown with vegetation.

    He began to bite the mouthpiece of his pipe for a moment Hetman before saying, "It's... strongly disturbing." He then turned to Colonel Buss, "How far is it from the border?"

    The colonel sighed, "Technically speaking, this is literally on the border. Through this forest should be the border between Louria and Que-Toyne but you know how it is with the level of technology here even if backed by magic.

    "I see." Replied the Hetman after which he began biting the mouthpiece of his pipe again. "It complicates things. It complicates things a lot. If Louria finds out that we're operating there, they may consider it an invasion and a casus belli against Que-Toyne as well as call on Parpaldia for help because, after all, we're the ones who attacked them."

    "Not only that, Hetman." Added Col.

    "You mean?" Twisted his pipe Hetman

    "Apparently, the Lymans sent a sizable reconnaissance group this side, we captured some prisoners but they are mostly badly wounded, and those who are left are not very willing to talk and when they do speak it is in a completely unknown language to us. And the others who did not return through the Gate..." Explained Colonel Buss

    "A gate?" Hetman quipped.

    "Yes the gate, for it looks like a triumphal arch connected to something that looks like the Pantheon in Rome with huge gates, and the retinue Captain Mutig sent out on reconnaissance reported that they had come out on some hills on which there was a Roman-style camp set up, to make matters worse after they passed through, all radio contact broke off and their navigation went dumb."

    The Hetman nodded, "I see." For a moment his forehead wrinkled from thinking, Neef had to admit he had it plowed like a farm field before sowing.

    When he thought about it, the Hetman said, tapping his pipe on the tabletop, "I'll take care of it, I know some suitable people who can speed everything up and owe me a favor. Until then, your regiment, Colonel Buss is to occupy and cut off the entire area, I'll reassign to you with two Oddział of 12 Yegers Regiment to help and Colonel Honorata Wolff's regiment will take over your duties."

    "That's it?" Asked the Hetman

    "If I may Hetman." spoke up Neef with a question

    "Yes?" nodded the Hetman

    "I ask for permission to secure the other side of the Gate. While the defense on this side may be quite simple, it is better to warn the Lymians and set up a retinue on the other side, there is no telling how much later they may draw men for a possible assault attempt." Neef started but saw that Hetman was not entirely convinced by the idea.

    "I'm asking this because my men have encountered various strange creatures in the Łymians, even bigger beasts than on this side, more ferocious and resilient. It takes concussion grenades and anti-tank grenade launchers to get rid of them and they are not easy to kill anyway, especially in large numbers. And the terrain makes it impossible to bring down vehicles with adequate firepower, as well as to use circulating ammunition." He added in a slightly more pleading tone.

    The old Hetman scratched his chin, it took a long while. Until Neef could see the beating on his face between allowing and forbidding. Both options were risky, after all, the Gate could suddenly disappear to cut off soldiers somewhere else, but the lack of a march to the other side limited knowledge as well as created the possibility that the enemy could knock down the sheer mass of numbers for his naval infantry there is limited only to small arms and support.

    "I allow," he replied heavily after the fight, albeit very reluctantly. "Launch a pre-emptive strike, the Łymians attacked us anyway so formally there will be no problem. Secure the other side, put up a retinue and send out reconnaissance if possible."

    "Anything else?" Asked the Hetman a second time, but did not get an answer so he nodded "You are dismissed, march away!"

    As soon as the door closed the Colonel spoke up chastisingly "Did you have to do that Klaus?"

    "Bjarn," began Neef, "I, unlike you as I ask you to protect your ass, it's for a good cause." After which he moved forward leaving the colonel behind.

    "God damn you and your sense of mission." Complained the Colonel then smiled slightly "We need more like you."
     
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    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.
     
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    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.
     
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  • 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.
     
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    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."
     
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    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?
     
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    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?"
     
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  • 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.
     
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