Januses 26th, 688 of the Imperial calendar
The men anxiously listen to their commander as he begins his speech before they were due to take off for battle, the thought of death all on their minds. "Men!" He calls out, "Today is the day we write our names in the pages of history, either as the saviors of Falmart or noble warrior who fell in battle for something greater then one's self. I fully understand the desperate situation we find ourselves in and know exactly what you are all thinking, the chances of any of us surviving this is low." He unlike the Oprichnina that the army had to deal with, the wyvern corps was free from the surveillance of them for now so it was refreshing to hear a commander who wasn't glory hungry.
"The enemy has iron wyverns that fly faster then an arrow, light spears that can kill a wyvern in a single hit, flying chariots that wipe whole legions out. But we have something they don't have and that's a cause, not for any emperor or fame or riches but for our families and our homeland. Many will die without even seeing the enemy but more will fill your ranks, we'll stop them in their tracks!"
These wyvern riders knew the entire plan was battle suicide, an excuse to save honor but this speech made them believe there was something to actually fight for. "Without their contraptions the army will be able to operate effectively against our distracted foes, perhaps we could even destroy the gate and cut them off from supply. It matters not if we can take their lands if we don't have ours, so fight for what truly matters and may the gods watch over you all..." the men cheering and clapped, they knew they were going to lose but they'd damn sure would try!
"Now, prepare for flight sixty-second squadron! Destiny awaits!" The wyverns roared as they took off and climbed into the clouds above for one final mission. Soon they were met with more squadrons and the formation grew to three thousand strong, heading southwest for an enemy aermodo close to the front. The men silently prayed to their patrons for salvation and some asked for forgiveness while others wished for their lives to be sparred from the carnage to come soon.
February 26th, 2017 of the Gregorian calendar
The squadron of F-16s raced from Fort Cluster towards the Dumas as a large formation of wyverns were reported headed straight for an air strip where A-10s of the 163rd fighter squadrons operated. Brooks had his aircraft fly to ten thousand feet and waited for the targets to pop onto his radar. "This is Black pepper, we're a hundred miles from the base. Does anyone have visual?" "Holy shit! That's a lot of them sir!" Suddenly his radar began to beep wildly as the entire top half of the screen blinked, an uncountable amount of dots forming into one big blob.
"Alright, prepare to launch your missiles my command!" Brooks quickly readied his weaponry and patiently waited for them to get into range. The moment they got into range he ordered, "Now!" And dozens of AIM-9 Sidewinders rocketed towards the horde. Some of the heat-seekers harmless fly by due to so many targets but most were direct hits, turning whole wyverns into millions of charred flesh. "Shit! Im outa sidewinders!" Calls out a pilot with another repeating the same thing. 'Oh for fuck's sake.' He mentality cursed, realizing that there was only one thing left to do. "Gentlemen, use what you've learned. Looks like we're dogfighting."
The captain switched his auto cannon to ten round bursts and set his engine to full throttle before climbing. An altitude advantage was always integral for winning an air-to-air engagement and these Saderans were going to learn why the F-16s were called fighting falcons. At just about a thousand feet above the main enemy force, the fighting banked and dove at the targets. Before the sound of shrieking could be heard wyverns were moved down by accurate fire from above, sending them into chaos. The planes boomed and zoomed in a broad circle around the wyverns like swordfish on the hunt.
Then streaks of smoke came rushing from the ground into the sky, signaling that the Avengers air defense system were now active in the fight. It didn't take long until the Saderans had enough and tailed back home meanwhile the F-16s traveled to the rendezvous point where air tankers would refuel the aircraft. The engagement was completely one sided with most of the wyverns eliminated though reports of a small boulder hitting a fuel tank circulated the airwaves.
"This is Owl, do you read me? Over." Brooks responded quickly, saying, "This is Black pepper, I read you, over." "Black pepper, get here as soon as you can! The whole Wyvern corps' is going to be at Italica real soon." It hit him, the Saderans were trying to destroy American Air power by absolute numbers. "Negative, Im out of ammunition, send the word to Fort Cluster immediately, out." Brooks quickly replayed the word to his men and ground control at Alnus before going full throttle, hoping the air defenses could hold. If thousands could attack one simple air stripe then he couldn't imagine the number attack Italica would be.
A little later around Italica...
Hawk's machine raced to the front as both helicopters and fighters went as quickly as they could to the city where the horde approached. Forty-eight F-16s and twelve Apaches would assist the ground systems to repel the attack while high command would locate and destroy where they're base of operations were. "Light em up boys!" Shouted a fighter pilot as a volley of missiles go flying towards the Saderans before dozens fall out of the sky. "This is hawks, follow me. We're gonna flank them." He pulled up and moved to the right flank where they could snipe their enemy from a relative safe position.
"Their in stinger range!" Said talons as he readies the missiles. "Good, blow the fucks out of the sky!" Without hesitation he and the rest of the Apaches fired off stingers with brutal accuracy. They then began using their chain guns, despite the fact that the Apaches were design built for ground attack roles but considering their inferior adversary, it was no problem so long they kept distance. It was a complete bloodbath, wyverns were falling in chunks, whole formations were blown out of existence, missiles flew around like fireworks, and the wyvern riders that had managed to reach the city cut massive sacks underneath sending hundreds of balls filled with a mixture that lit on fire when exposed to oxygen; turning Italica into a inferno.
"Their dropping incendiary bombs!" Called out a pilot as the wyverns despite the losses pushed throw the hail and dropped their payloads, those shot down before releasing them exploded in balls of fire. The walls, militia garrison, and Formal residence were all build with stone so they received minimal fire damage but the same couldn't be said for the rest of the city as entire blocks were consumed by flame. "It's a fucking massacre down there!" Says Hawks in shock as thick black smoke rises into the sky. "Bastards!" Adds Talons as the two continue to shoot wyvern after wyvern down, until at last whats left of the Saderan forces retreat back to their lines, hopefully to be finished off by another squadron. "We repelled them boys, Italica is burning...but we did it..." The Apache pilot says into the radio. "Head back to base." Quietly they return to Alnus, exhausted.
Januses 26th, 688 of the Imperial calendar
"My lord, the Wyverns have successfully attacked Italica and it's burning!" Reported Mudra as Zorzal grins ear to ear at the news. "Delightful my dear Mudra! What other good news do you bring?" And as his emperor commanded, the general complied. "Thankfully yes, the preparation for the naval invasion of the glass peninsula is ahead of schedule and will be complete by the end of the week. Half of the navy had either been pressed into the army or its ships sunk in harbor, so about sixty ships all carrying troops were to first land at the island of Persici where from reports of loyal citizens, a small force of men with tents and medical equipment were stationed to help the population recover after tuberculosis had ravaged the island.
It'd both a propaganda and strategy victory as they'd would defeat the enemy in battle, plus have a staging ground to attack Deabis. "What are the casualty report for the Wyvern corps then?" He then noticed Mudra swallow a lump in his throat. "We have taken rather heavy casualties but we did considerable damage to Italica of course and various settlements under enemy control." But the emperor wanted numbers, "Don't walk around the question friend, how many casualties?" "Fifty-thousand wyverns my lord. That's how many we've lost today." Those numbers were tiny compared to the total at his disposal and shrugged them off. "They are merely the price payed for the greater good. Tomorrow as planned Deabis, Elbe, and Toumaren are too be destroyed before the Aermodo at Alnus is targeted."
He would make them all pay for siding with the barbarians, he'd show that the dragon was not to be underestimated and how was the true master of Falmart. Aquilonia may have been in open revolt against his rule but most of the army was still under his control and every fighting aged man would fight in the streets of Sadera in either a miracle battle to be told for centuries or a blaze of glory. A million men were already at their positions in and round the city while another five hundred thousand were being trained as fast as possible with even more bare bones kanonis and spears, mostly just a week or less of learning commands and drill with twenty-thousand more already from Telta and five-thousand from Propter heading their way to the capital. A large percentage of the male population had already undergone training earlier in their lives as a mandatory quota for half of the males in a settlement to be trained to defend the homeland if needed. It'd take time though they would have a key part to play.
Unfortunately the western side of the empire wasn't so useful, majority of the population of Rondel preferred to study useless magic tricks while Crety hadn't even begun to recover from the plague that killed thousands. Now he had to rely on unskilled, undisciplined, and undersupplied mobs to slow the advance of the barbarians but this was the Empire's specialty. Numbers and stubbornness was what won the Arctic war, the Arrunan war, the republican wars, the 680 Peasant uprising would win this war. He didn't war if it took fifty years, he wouldn't lose and wouldn't quit. It was his birthright to rule over the Empire and he'd have one, even an empire of dirt.
"Alright then," he said, "Continue to improve the city defenses and see if the expansion of the old tunnels can be done faster, the more supples and troops we can move underground the better." Mudra bowed and placed his fist on his chest before leaving. The now almost six hundred-thousand strong defense need lots of food and while food would come at a slower rate then horse, it would have better protect against air attacks and could continuously funnel troops into the battle so long as the entrances were nor discover and there was men to send to the meat grinder. He wanted to win and to win, he wanted to make the enemy lose spirit. It didn't matter if millions died at Sadera so long as the enemy had nothing of value to gain, that was a victory in his books but there would no victory whatsoever for the Empire of Sadera. There'd simply be carnage that it would absolutely never recover from and the largest, strongest, wealthiest, and strongest city would be reduced to barley even ruins.