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.
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.