A/N:
SnitchPogi12: Right now, since Itami is stationed in South Sudan, I'm keeping the otaku part to a minimum just because of the internet speed of the area. Also, the otaku theme might be toned down a bit, just cause I'm still planning on how to write more of him in.
Guest: From what I could find, the Philippines hasn't sent any army units to South Sudan, only UN police officers. I am trying to write the story with reality in mind, so unless you can find me a source that says otherwise, quit asking for your patriotic desires.
Anyway, thanks for the reads and reviews, and let's keep going.
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Chapter 6: Exclusion Zone
Rubkona, Bentiu province, South Sudan
7 days later
Count Colt Formal was tired. He was tired of sending his men to die. He was tired of the killing and conquering. He was especially tired of being the Empire's little bitch.
{These invasions are really not helping me with my age.} He thought as he ruffled his greying hair. He looked onto the horizon as his column of troops marched through the bloody market, escorting a group of slaves. He could easily see the disgusted and grim faces of his own soldiers as they passed the deceased bodies of the locals.
The Empire's latest conquest, the land beyond the gate, was supposed to be a great honor to partake in. Both the 6th and 7th Corp of the Imperial army were sent forth, with nobles and common folk alike fighting to join the expeditionary force. Human, goblin, and giant vassals were called to arms and that was why Formal was forced to be here. The Empire wanted body shields for its legions, commanding each vassal city-states to assemble 2,000 strong armies and send them through the gate. The Count was unable to hire enough mercenaries to fill his rank and was forced to conscript his own subjects to fight. He ensured that his 1,500 men were fully equipped with his family's heavy infantry lamellar armour* and short swords, shields, polearms, and crossbows to give them a fighting chance. It was extremely expensive, but in his mind, his city was formed by these people and without them, his family had no worth. He also had requested for rear line work for his men, keeping them away from the frontlines.
His civilian army was not battle-hardened at all, and many had thrown up and stopped, sick from what the legionaries of the Imperial army had done to the locals. Colt himself was trying to hold his lunch down, looking at the dismembered bodies of men, women, and children. He then turned his head to the lines of slaves they were moving towards the gate, necks chained together in columns. It didn't matter that their skin complex was darker, but he imagined that they were his subjects back in Italica. What if his ancestors didn't surrender all those years back? What if the Empire got fed up with his protection of demihumans and anti-slave policies?
As he looked toward the horizon, avoiding the stares from the glassy, clouded eyes of the dead. Glints of lights flashed in the sky, capturing his eyes immediately. He counted, there were 5 of them.
{Stars?! But it's daytime. Are they moving? Wait, there's more!}
He counted again, this time another 7 flashes followed the 5 from a distance.
{They are moving! What are they?!}
Two Imperial Dragoons also saw them, mounting their winged beasts and took off to intercept the flashes, flying over the Count. The noble turned to his aide.
"Stop the column. We will rest in the field." He pointed to a field that was empty, a green spot surrounded by a town of sand.
His aids and lieutenants shouted out his orders, the men and beastmen moved quickly, eager to get water and rest.
Colt looked back into the sky wide-eyed, the flashes were much closer now, growing to the size of his fingertips. They looked almost like eagles soaring over prey, with 2 tails pointed straight to the sky and wings outstretched. But they did not flap their wings once.
{Maybe it's a new wyvern species. The empire will make full use of them I guess.} Formal grumbled to himself.
With his attention waning, he turned his head away when an explosion went off overhead. His eyes snapped back to the 2 wyverns above, one was eviscerated and its bits were falling from the sky. The wingman was taking evasive actions before an arrow, spewing fire and white smoke, streaked in and slammed into the poor man. The burning arrow then exploded, destroying both the bodies of rider and beast, to the Count's horror. He looked back to the eagles. They were moving a lot faster now. He could now see the shape of the eagle and it made him shudder in fear. It had sharp contours, with a bulge on its back. It had 4 wings, the rear two smaller in size, and plated with steel. Small pointed objects hung from its many arms along with the wings.
{Those must be the burning arrows. What power can control such beasts?}
The 5 "eagles" continued to accelerate before flying overhead. Vicious growling was heard as it got closer, followed by a massive boom when it passed directly over the men. Windows shattered and the ground shook with the men in full panic, throwing their weapons to the ground and prayed to the Gods for mercy. The horses instantly panicked, throwing their riders to the ground and bolted, leaving the men in the dirt.
As the Count looked up from the ground, he saw more legion wyverns take to the sky, frantically flapping to gain altitude to engage the enemy. Yet more burning arrows streaked in, striking each one by one, and sending them back to the ground in pieces. The seven soon joined its brethren, creating thunder above before circling, glaring down in search of prey.
Aides rushed to help the Count back onto his feet. As he brushed himself off and steadied his nerves, a horn could be heard from the gate. The entire wyvern squadron sent through the gate, 100 wyverns, half of the Imperial army's air assets, took off together. The mass of flapping wings blanketed the skies before charging at the eagles, who in turn, angled away and broke off to the east. Formal watched as they distanced themselves before turning around and unleashed a mass of burning arrows. A rain of flesh, bones, and metal soon followed as the squadron was decimated.
{My Gods, who have the Empire angered? Have we stepped on the eagles' feathers?} Formal was absolutely terrified.
The wyverns and the legions were why the Empire was able to control most of Falmart. Now the wyverns are almost all lost, only to 12 eagles, and he had heard the mass casualties the legions took attacking the army to the north. The legates tried to play off the casualties, but he saw with his own eyes, the dead Imperials littering the street and the horrendous wounds some men came back with.
{The Empire is getting its comeuppance… and we are siding with them.} The dread of facing an enemy that could so easily defeat the empire he feared just minutes before shattered the man's thoughts.
Count Colt Formal fainted on the spot.
He awoke in a tent a couple of hours later, being nursed by his closest lieutenant, his nephew Lesnar Formal. Colt struggled to his feet frantically, as he grabbed his nephew's shoulders.
"Where are we?" His head snapped back and fore as he tried to figure out where he was.
"Calm uncle, we just set up camp in the field. No harm will come to you." Lesnar responded, rather shaken up by the fear in his uncle's eyes.
The count breathed a sigh of relief before standing. At least they hadn't retreated back to the gate.
"Quickly, relay my orders. Gather all the men and slaves. Every demihuman and soldier in our service needs to rush here. We are moving east on a quick march."
Confusion grew across his nephew's face.
"But uncle, the gate is back to the west. Why are we heading east?"
The boy's mother died after childbirth leaving him to his father who died quickly after during Zorzal's campaign against the warrior bunnies. His hatred for demihumans should surpass the Count's hatred of the Empire, yet he was mature enough to understand it was Zorzal's fault and not the demihumans for taking his only remaining parent.
{Brother, your son has grown to be a smart, young man. You should be proud.} Colt thought as he decided to explain to his lieutenant the reason for his decision.
"We need to distance ourselves from the Empire, they angered the eagles, not us. We must keep ourselves alive."
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POC Malakal, Malakal Province, South Sudan
"Ma'am, we got movement," the American drone operator said, staring at his screen.
The MQ-1 Predator drone and its operator was shipped quickly from Syria to conduct reconnaissance flights after the F/A-18Fs cleared the skies of enemy air assets. The Super Hornets were part of Carrier Air Wing 5 stationed on the US aircraft carrier USS Ronald Reagan who had rushed to the Gulf of Aden from the Indian ocean in the week after the initial attack. The squadron had to take off from the carrier, fly to the Ethiopian capital of Addis Ababa to refuel, then to the Malakal airport for another fueling before getting to Rubkona to achieve aerial superiority in the area of operation.
" We have approx. 1,200 enemy combatants moving east with mass civilian prisoners," the operator continued to report.
Lieutenant General Aadesh Singh just nodded, " We'll leave them to the Russians." He turned to Captain Iris Tahir and told her to relay the information to the Russians and to expect heavy fighting. The Northern country had rushed combat forces from Syria to assist UN forces on the ground alongside the reinforced contingents of neighboring Ethiopia and other African countries. The United Nations currently held a 5 kilometre perimeter around Rubkona and the POC Unity, to ensure that the Romans did not leave the area and spread destruction or build up insurgencies. An entire Russian motor rifle brigade of 3000 stood to the east of Rubkona.
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Near the 5 km eastern perimeter checkpoint, Bentiu province, South Sudan
"Uncle, everyone is accounted for and we have around 900 slaves. Where are we going?" Lesnar started looking back at the slaves and tired men as he urged his horse alongside the Count.
Without looking back, Colt replied, " we are going to regroup and try to contact the otherworlders to help us return to Italica."
Lesnar's jaw dropped.
"But uncle, will they listen to us?"
"Hopefully... did you notice that their eagles didn't attack us?" Colt looked back to gauge his nephew's expression.
Lesnar was looking up into the sky in thought, " That was weird. They had the power to destroy all the wyverns, but didn't attack us."
The older Formal continued, " I believe that the otherworlders are like us, they don't want collateral damage," he looked on in thought.
" I hope they are willing to co-exist with Italica and bring us out of the Empire's grasp."
" I hope s-"
His nephew cut the sentence short, causing the Count to look over. A look of awe and fear was what he saw. Colt then looked in the direction the boy was looking.
A single man wears tan clothing that matched the dirt around them blocked their route through a thin treeline, a hand raised above his head in a stopping gesture while the other held a black deformed object** pointed into the air. The Count could tell instantly by the way the man held the weird object that it was a weapon. A top covering helmet and a cloth scarf covered the man's face, the only thing that stood out was the man's eyes. The otherworlder had only cloth clothing, but it could easily be seen that armour plates hid underneath the layers.
Upon closer inspection, Colt saw more men dressing in similar clothing, laying on the ground spread out in the tree line They too, pointing the same objects at them. The tan colour caused them to be difficult to spot in the dirt and sand. The metallic gleam shined off the black pipe of the objects, filling the Count with uneasiness. The formation that they held, spread out across to see most of his forces, made it likely that the objects were crossbows.
As the procession drew closer, the man shouted, "Стоп, ты кто?"
The two Formals looked at each other.
Stepping forward, Colt replied, " I request an audience with your leader and to-"
A loud bark and fire spewed from the man in front's black object as he lowered it.
"Стой, скажи своим людям бросить оружие и сдаться сейчас!"
The Count had cringed hard at the loud noise, with the restless men behind him raising their weapons. Suddenly, black smoke billowed from behind the left tree line, with a growling eight-legged beast materializing from the brush. A whine could be heard as its head turned towards the column.
{No, those are wheels, it's a giant cart. And it has a giant pipe crossbow on it, a lot bigger than the man in front of him.}
" Men, drop your weapons," Colt shouted behind him as he dismounted, " we are surrendering, we are not their enemies."
He kept his hands up as the masked men advanced on him before he was unceremoniously thrown to the ground, face in the dirt, and had his hands tied behind him.
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* Search Chinese heavy infantry lamellar armour
**AK-74M if it wasn't obvious
Another long early chapter, my update is still going to be once a week, I just have a lot of ideas and time right now. I'm willing to add things as long as there are precedents or sources to back it up. So thanks for reading, I'm doing my best with research, please leave a review and I hope you will keep reading this horrible idea.
