March 7th, 2017 of the Imperial calendar
The Americans quickly hoped into the trench system as Saderans were gunned down were they stood, helpless to stop the attack. Even with the quick start the battle quickly bogged down as the narrow roads allowed only single file convoys open to sporadic but intense ambushes by groups of Imperials that would quickly retreat into the depths of the dark forest, drones and other surveillance aircraft being the only real means to locate pockets of resistance. The some eight thousand strong attackers despite being aware of the operational difficulties concerning the offensive, it still surprised them how ferociously their opponents would fight.
"We gotta take out their artillery!" Orders lieutenant Thompson whose voice was almost completely drowned out by the orchestra of battle, "But we have to take these trenches first." Thompson led the charge through the winding dugout as horrific fire from their rifles easily mows down anyone foolish enough to shoot or charge at them. It seemed like forever until they found the first position to knock out. It was a split in the trench system, one going to a pit where crude mortars were firing and the other continued deeper into the forest. "They haven't been alerted to us yet...Collins, take your boys to silence them, we protect your asses." He commanded quietly before the sergeant nods, Cork, Johnson, and Zhoa moving into position. "Open fire!" The squad opens up onto the Saderans, quickly dispatching them before they would react. "Clear!" Calls out collins and Thompson laughs. "Out-fucking-standing!"
Johnson can hear the rest of the company relentlessly fighting the enemy, not giving them a moment to rest. The saderans were numerous but not even many of them firing their muskets could slow let alone stop the push. Suddenly there was a loud clacking noise like thunder and a man dropped dead, a hole in his forehead. "Sniper!" Shouted a grunt as they all got down. Cork took a peek up and ducked as the dirt in front of him flew up. "They're in the trees!" "Then bring those shit's down!" Growled Johnson as they sprayed into a tree, a saderan covered in twigs and leaves as camouflage fell down to the ground, only to swing left to right because of the rope tied to his ankle. There was a few more shots and every tree they could see was peppered, two more snipers following were eliminated before it was determined that the coast was clear.
The journey through the Saderan lines continued as usually until they neared the second position where as soon as a man peeked around the corner, a jet stream of fire blasted towards him. Every jumped back but the aforementioned man screamed in agony as he was on fire. "Holy shit! Someone help me!!" He wailed while he rolled on the ground to put himself out and his fellow wolfhounds came to his assistance. "Die you fucks!" Yelled cork as he threw a grenade in the direction of the flames, an explosion soon following. Johnson looked down to see multiple men poaring water onto the burning man's body, extinguishing him but the skin face, chest, and right arm was all but peeled off. After hastily brushing it aside the rest moved forward down the trench, pass the pile of melted iron and burning Imperial corpses.
Gunshots once again rang out and the men operating the indirect fire weapons dropped dead while the rest scattered, some falling as soldiers attempted to pick off the fleeing force. This now left the Americans with the trench but a much larger gathering of these mortars wasn't very far. "Alpha-3, is Werewolf-5, we've secured the frontal positions, over." "Werewolf-5, proceed to the next objective, out." The private could see the lieutenant take a sigh before straightening back up to address his men. "Good work soldiers, but those damned mortars still have to be silenced. We'll thrust onto their flank while Bravo company pins them down. Now! Move out!"
'Jesus.' Johnson thought, 'Here we go again...' He and the rest of the company were both physically and mentally exhausted, being the spear tip of the American advance into the new world. But until they surrendered then they wouldn't go home, they would press forward and make sure the Saderans would sit at the negotiating table. The soldiers then checked their weapons and ammunition before heading out into the woods that enveloped them.
By the time they got about two hundred yards of the target the sky was orange and pink, darkness soon approaching. Thompson quickly signals half of them men, Johnson's squad included, to sneak to their rear while he himself would lead the attack. What sucked about this area was that there was a lot of trees and a lot of places for traps and ambushes, the good part was that the Americans could see in the dark while their technologically inferior foe couldn't. As the light of the sun vanished and the moon rose the men turned on their night vision, seeing heat signalers of men around camp fires.
His buddy Cork readied his grenade launcher while Zhao kneeled with his gun set up on a fallen tree. Johnson estimated that about at least four dozen men were around the site and reading up for bed. "Permission to engage." He heard someone whisper and there was a slight pause before yelled, "lit them fuckers up!" Zhao's machine gun dropped a group previously laughing by the fire while Cork blew three men sky high. The Saderans were completely helpless against this and they raised the white flag in record time, just forty seconds. Bodies laid in scattered pockets around their fire pits and weapon systems, pools of blood forming underneath them.
Mars 8th, 688 of the Imperial calendar
After returning to friendly lines Maximus grouped up with a renegade unit made of men from various legions conducting a hasty retreat towards the city of Marais, blocking roads, weakening bridges and places traps around as they went. As expected the enemy were pushing hard even without their massive iron elephants although their smaller chariots could be dealt with ingenuity but the wyverns were a whole different matter. Entire parts of the forest burned, decreasing the number of places they could hide in.
Now Maximus and the rest of the under-strength century marched into a small trading trading outpost surrounded by tall trees hoping to gather some supplies from the locals but they found it deserted, absent of any life. The man leading them, made his move. "Scatter men! Find whatever you can find, Marais is still a bit away." The soldiers in groups searched the various buildings while Maximus made his way to a house alone. He pushed the door gently and a rat scurried past his feet, catching him off guard but he took no mind as he looked around for anything use full. But unfortunately the only things inside was altar, a overturned table, and a small cloth doll laying by itself in the far left corner.
"Damn it...wish there was any clothes..." He monologued as he continues to wonder about in the home, dust that was disturbed kicking up as he inspect the inside. Suddenly there was a cry, "By the gods!" He turned his head to see figures running pass the home entrance. Maximus walked out to see soldiers rushing to his right and around the corner where a large barn blocked the view. "Hey, what's going on?" He asked a soldier with stubs on his chin, "Don't know, but it sounds urgent." He said and then walked away into the crowd.
He let out a sigh before he jogged down the dirt street until he could see the horror. There was a small forum with a large tree in the center but it wasn't the tree itself but rather what was on it. There was the villagers, dangling with signs wrapped around their necks. 'Traitor to the homeland.' One read, 'I am a coward.' Another stated. Some hung by nooses, some were impaled by the branches and spikes driven into the trunk, others gently swung on hooks. Men, woman, children, and the elderly were all present with none spared, this barbaric massacre having one true suspect. The Other-worlders hadn't even reached this deep and left the Oprichnina to blame for this absolute monstrosity.
"Who could do such a thing?!" Asked one while another next to him vomited. "The Oprichnina is to blame!" Answered their commander whose glowed with vengeance. "Those swine are worst then the dark races, we'll make them pay." Maximus held a grudge against the Imperial army for taking him against his well and forcing him to serve far away from home, for sending him across the gate and watching his comrades die in arms, for sending him to suicide mission after suicide mission, for robbing him the chance of love and to start a family. Now, he hated them for this, the moment he'd get regular clothing, he'd walk off and never turn back.
March 8th, 2017 of the Gregorian calendar
Kowalski was pleased that the Marais campaign was going right on schedule, the Imperial forces swiftly being cut into numerous pockets that were quickly wiped out. But they had adapted and fought hard for the every position to the last man. The some one hundred thousand troops were concentrated in three main areas. Marais city, Beza hill, and a wipe area in front acting like a shield. The B-52s were doing a marvelous job at ratting them out as napalm burned whole sections of forest.
The Saderans were on their last legs, after hundred of thousands of casualties they were bled white and could only offer token resistance against the mighty American army. Sure their newly found tactics complicated things but the war machine had barely a mark on its paint let alone any serious damage, unless the gate was destroyed of course. He knew that the government was looking into creating a portal between their worlds so they could be connected once the gate inevitably closed. From what he could gather, wizards and other people with magic were recruited far and wide for this project that if successful, could let American to have limitless resources and energy independence. Why worry about middle eastern oil when the Elbians could barely keep itself together?
The nine month long expedition into Falmart was coming to a close, this strange war of fantasy would enter the history books and years later documentaries on the subject matter would be used by students of the future, something that fascinated him. The upcoming paratrooper attack was scheduled to start on March 12, pushed almost two weeks back due to the wyvern attack. It'd eliminate a key naval base and divert troops away from the main offensive to begin a few days later.
He imagined the Saderans screeching in fright as invincible tanks sped towards them at full sped and overrunning their positions. It would be glorious to see and the media would get their story to milk to death as the United States' adversaries would sulk about not having excess to the resource rich continent. If a portal was created then soon someone would copy that and their be actual competition in the Special region for once, so American was going to suck as much as possible out of this gold mine.
Author's notes: Now here's part two of this arc that will be the third to last arcs in this story, with Sadera being the grand finale. This was such a great experience doing and after a year of work, it's almost over. Like I said before, thanks for those whom have stuck by for all this time. Once im done all branch to different genres to explore other the Gate, perhaps even the summoning Japan forum? Wink-wink ;)