I want to make this clear before the story, I am not a pro-Falmart writer. I hate Falmart civilization for their enslavement of innocent men, women, and children of both human and demi-humans. But understand that these Saderan soldiers also had lives, the families they loved, and hobbies. So I wanted to make a story to show the bravery that these Saderan soldiers showed by sacrificing all of their love for their country, even under a corrupted monarchy.

WARNING: This story displays characters rationalizing extreme behaviors and beliefs. Along with major plot changes.

Also don't expect me to upload frequently, I'm busy with life. Definitely does not get distracted every 5 minutes while writing.

Chapter 1. Who Knows Where?

With most of the Falmart continent under Saderan control, and the non Saderan lands being merely vassals, the empire had no more land to occupy. And being a nation economically depended on the institution of slavery, the empire was in need to invade for more slaves. So what did the empire decided to do? Invade another world. It was to be the biggest expedition the empire has ever commenced. And it did not end well, the empire sent 300,000 men beyond the gate that connects to another world, and only 600 returned unharmed, 28,000 were severely injured, and the rest was dead. What's worse is that the survivors are too paralyzed to speak, and many of them are committing suicide. Thus, no information of what the enemy is like. There was one man who did speak, however, was slow, and spoke unbelievable things. Such as, flying metal dragon fly, iron elephant shoot iron shells, metal shells shooting canes, building the height of the palace everywhere, everyone wearing fancy, noble level clothes. So it did not start well for the empire.

Titus Hilario arrived at the camp stationed in Alnus 2 days ago to combat the invading enemy force. He a proud member of the Ancient Guard, the mightiest men in the entire Saderan army, also the personal guard of 15,000 of the emperor. The emperor called for the vassal states to cooperate against the invaders from another world... which is yet to arrive. In total there are going to be 500,000 men in defensive position.

He was stationed in a trench with spears pointing towards anyone who dare enter from the front. Their job is to hold enough time for entire army to arrive in case the invaders attack. Since the Ancient Guard were given the finest of everything, they were met with the highest expectations. Anyone who fails meeting that will be mercilessly thrown into another place. Another branch to slavery.

It is currently night, but the defenses does not weaken. Words have arrived that the rest of the army is going to arrive in 2 days. But the general desperately needed the army to arrive now, since the enemy could cross the gate any second. Even this second might be the last of peace. Titus stood up from the trench and saw a single figure by the gate.

"Enemy scout!" he yelled. The men quickly grabbed their weapons as the scout retreated through the gate. "Report this to the general now." Titus ordered the men. Now he is growing restless, the attack is now within sight. He didn't think 2 days was fast enough for the army to help anything. It could be tomorrow. "Hurry!" he yelled at the messenger.

Western Army

The army in the east was just given order to send men to help with the war effort. So sent 90,000 men. It has been 3 days since they set off, they just received the message that the enemy could attack any moment. So they are moving twice as faster, wishing that the enemy would be delayed or held off. The army is currently resting in camps for the night.

Marcus Barca, the commanding general of the Western army read the note delivered by the Guard.

Enemy scout spotted by the gate, in need of support by tomorrow night.

Barca couldn't help but face palm. The attack is so close. And the fog is so thick he doubts that it'll be gone by tomorrow. So that'll slow them down even more. And there are reports of towns being nearby towns being destroyed by monsters or such, so they'll have to clear that out as well.

"So tell me about what the hell is going on with these villages being destroyed." Barca asked a nearby reporter.

"We have not confirmed this yet, but we assume that there are an army of monsters attacking villagers. No sign of villagers after an attack." Barca went into deep thought. No sign of villagers, constant attack, and a very unlikely scenario of a coordinated attack by monsters.

"This is no raid by monsters, it's bandits. I don't know where they had been hiding from the army, but now we gotta crush them." Barca declared. "We will set out soon after breakfast tomorrow, then we will run, RUN, to the East. Got it? Tell that to the commanders." Barca ordered the reporter. Barca sat down by the fire to get some heat. The night was cold, covered in thick fog and surrounded by the sound of the owls. Barca closed his eyes, and let the sleep take him in.

Morning

Barca and his men walked down the valley, his men are fresh from the goodnight sleep. Barca looked at the towns beyond him.

"Graje, Verah, you take 30,000 men. 30,000 men, one-third of my army, you take them and you crush the bandits. Understand? Once that's done you better catch up to us, we will be running towards the gate. So rest no men and catch up." Barca ordered his commanders. They soon departed with their 30,000 men. They better not screw this up. He thought.

"What do you think about the news of the expedition? The 300,000 men sent were massacred." Field Marshal Grout asked. "It is terrifying. Especially since the survivors claim that they could not get a single enemy soldier killed. I think we can tell that the enemy is far more advanced in military. To me it seems like victory, or even a stalemate is impossible is the enemy is capable of such thing." Barca expressed his concerns. "Although whether it is true that we could not get a single enemy dead is up to a debate, I think we can all agree that our army did not stand a chance beyond that gate. I've led my men into many battles, and read reports from the ancestors about the soldiers in the Great Arctic War... but I've never seen men so horrified." Grout said in horror. "..." Barca stayed silent.

Barca stayed silent as heavy rain started to set in, the fogs were still thick and it was hard to see. It was cold. "Sir, we are going to lose contact with Graje and Verah with this weather." Grout said. "It is fine. They do not need communication to catch up." Barca sniffed his nose, checking the map before quickly putting it back down in his pocket. They would need at least 6 hours to reach the gate. Though there's fogs and wet ground, it will probably take longer. In the depth of the fog, a messenger rushed forward gasping for air.

"Reporting! Enemy army has crossed the gate! We cannot hold them for long! We beg for your arrival within 9 hours!" the messenger read the wet paper. "Tell your general that we move twice as faster, so you fight twice as harder! Now go!" Barca said. The messenger rushed off. Barca could barely see due to the combination of heavy rain and the fog. Spitting water out of his mouth. "At the double quick." Barca ordred Grout. Grout nodded. "At the double quick!" the men roared, as they started jogging their way towards the gate.

General Graje, covered in water from the rain, finally reached the ghost town. It looked like it's just been attacked or some sort. But Graje noticed something. "Footsteps." he mumbled towards General Verah. "These are fresh, they're still nearby! Quickly, move!" Graje, Verah, and their men rushed towards where the footsteps lead to. There were an immense amount of footsteps. How large of a group of bandits could they have been? He doubted that an unorganized group of bandits could walk through the Imperial army guarding the area. "Could they possibly..." Graje mumbled.

"What do you mean general?" Verah asked. "...it's nothing. That can't possibly be the case." Graje washed his face from the rain, as the amount of footsteps started to increase. Eventually they ended up in front of a large structure. "...is this the gate..?" Verah mumbled. "We should send a messenger to General Barca." Graje said. "Sir, the fogs are too thick, and the ground is too slippery due to the rain!" the messenger protested. "You have a point, we'll tell him once we catch up." Graje ordered a scout team to check what's beyond the gate. Graje waited impatiently as he looked at the never ending rain. He is getting cold, as he started shiver. He started to rub his hands to get some warmth.

They waited for several minutes, as time dragged on even more. "What are they doing over there?! Its been over 30 minutes! We don't have time to waste!" Graje asked.

"We can check on them sir." the commander said. "Bring some men with you just in case." Graje added. The group went ahead. "What the hell is beyond this thing." Verah mumbled. Graje fidgeted his legs in annoyance. "Damn those bastards, we don't have time to waste." after more time has passed with silence, Graje finally had it enough. "Enough is enough, we're going in with the army." Graje ordered. "General, it is entirely possible that there is the enemy beyond this gate. I suggest letting the army go through first." Verah suggested. "I'll take your words." Graje said going off.

The army, headed by the infantry, walked in to the gate, with the highest precaution. Graje stood by the gate, watching as the army head in. As the last men walked in to the gate, Graje followed, guarded by a few dozen reserves. He started to hear strange sound and men screaming. Graje whipped his horse and galloped towards the end, Verah was already there, they stared at the sight of dead men and soldiers in strange troops in strange blue uniform with strange wood weapon with a blade at the tip. Pointing towards them.

Laissez tomber votre arme et rendez-vous!

One of them yelled. They could not understand them. Graje quickly turned to one of the reserves. "You, quickly tell General Barca about this-" a violent pain hit him as the soldiers fired strange things from their rod. As he reached for his injuries, Verah quickly yelled at the men, "Quickly! And the rest, carry General Graje back!" Verah ordred. Graje was grabbed by the reserves as Verah quickly told the remaining men to line up. "Shields!" he called. The shields quickly formed a line protecting the men behind. The lancers was behind to attack back. But it was useless, the enemy fired their weapons, killing the shieldsmen in one go.

"Retreat!" Verah quickly called, but the soldiers were chasing them, Verah and the rest of the men were quickly captured.

Ne résiste pas!

Verah tried to resist, but these men in groups threw him into a horse carriage. Verah could only eye at the gate. Hoping for the best.

Titus could not calm down. The enemy, that apparently massacred the army of 300,000 without taking casualties is coming soon. And currently it is night. The best time to attack. They could not get to sleep. They could get massacred right this moment. The Western army is yet to arrive, and only 20,000 reinforcements arrived. And local militias also came to help. But that wasn't enough. That is still only 55,000.

"If the otherworlders attack now, they'll break every bone in my body." Titus chuckled.

"Get better calcium, my friend." Cicero, a son of a famous senator said. "If there is anything in this world which I could care less about, it is muscular strength." Titus smirked. Titus looked up from the trench, noticing that many are doing that as well from paranoia. Titus gripped his spear harder.

"Enemy spotted!" at that moment, Titus's heart stopped. In fear, Titus looked out to see waves iron elephants and strange iron carriages coming out from the gate.

"Get to combat positions!" the men rushed to their posts, grabbing weapons and waking men up. Titus let the fire on to get some light. As the figure of the enemy became increasingly more visible. Monsters began roaring in excitement. He saw General Romo on a horse.

"We are going to buy time until the reinforcements arrive. Do not attack, stay in the trenches where they cannot hit us with their long range weapons." Romo ordered the generals. Titus watched as Romo rushed off to the headquarter.

"Stay put! Do not attack! We will fight a defensive battle!" the commander yelled. The archers took over the front, as Titus and others pulled back from the front of the trench. He saw what the General Romo was doing: trying to make a stalemate to buy time. The enemy uses long range weapon, so if they keep up the defenses, they will have no choice but to charge. Which will be stopped by the spiked fences in front of them. While the archers take them out. Titus tried to see how many of them were there. It was hard to see in the dark. Fighting probably won't kick of in this dark. They won't be able to see.

Out of nowhere, a strange high pitched sound took over the sky. Everybody stared in the skies in confusion. The trench far away exploded as men was blown away in pieces.

"Enemy attack!" someone yelled as the explosion and the high pitched sound continued. "They can see in this darkness?!" Titus yelled as him and Cicero rushed away as the explosion followed them. "Hurry! Pull back!" Cicero yelled as men ran the opposite of the explosion. The enemy was this strong? Titus could not imagine the horrors the original expeditionary force experienced before the horrible death. There were limbs and arms being blown away by the the enemy's great and terrible artillery. There were men burning and screaming, people picking up their blown away arms.

As the entire army ran away from the explosions, Titus slipped on someone's leg, falling to the ground. No one cared, as Cicero tried to reach for him, he was pushed away by waves of men running. As the explosion neared, Titus covered his head, hoping for the best. The explosion got closer to him second by second. He counted as silence followed. He opened his eyes to see that he is safe. Only to see horrors by looking upward. There were lightings shooting towards the Ancient Guard, who by now, reached the end of the trenches, and ran out of the trench. They were being shot down in cruel speed. He spotted Cicero taking cover on ground behind the little tree. Titus watched in horror as barely any men made it out alive to the headquarters. He spotted Cicero crawling towards the trenches.

"Hurry!" Titus reached for him as Cicero reached on. He pulled Cicero into the trench. "Just what the hell are they.." Titus mumbled. He could no longer ignore the heartbeats. Cicero pointed towards the sky, Titus slowly turned his head towards the sky in horrors, he saw hundreds of wyverns flying over to the gate.

"Yes! Kill those bastards!" they yelled in union. For once Titus smiled! Cheering on the air force. But that was short lasted.

Those high pitched sounds.

The wyverns were being shot down before they can get near enough to attack. The wyvern's thick skin were being pierced through like a paper and a arrow. "That's impossible.." Cicero mumbled. Soon enough, the majority of the air force present was either killed or severely injured. "Enemy attack stopped... we can escape now." Titus said. "Come on! They're distracted with the air force! This is the only time!" Cicero quickly nodded as they dropped their weapons and ran for the headquarters where the Guard has retreated.

General Barca was annoyed. The General Verah and Graje has not returned, they are almost nearing Alnus Hill.

"My god... what are those sound... is it the enemy? We must have some differences in war technology." Barca mumbled. The army was moving in full speed. They spotted the Saderan Alnus HQ with terrified soldiers.

Barca galloped towards them, jumping out of his horse. "Up to them!" he yelled "Up to them! Are you the Guard?!" Barca yelled. The soldiers were petrified. Shivering, many of them had their arms and legs blown off. Along with soldiers who had blood spilling out from a specific part of body from a strange wound mark he had never seen before.

"Where is the air force?" he asked.

"They've been annihilated sir, we don't have any more wyverns!" a commander nearby said. "...what are you talking about? That is impossible! There were more than 300 of them!" Barca exclaimed. "I-it's true sir.. I saw them with my own eyes." a soldier, wounded and relying on a spear to walk said. Barca couldn't say anything.

"What's the casualties?" he asked. "8,000 sir, more than half our boys." Barca froze. In such short amount of time so many men along with the entire air force present here was killed. He worried that even his 60,000 men would not stand a chance against this enemy. "Tell me, what the hell happened here?"

I've actually wanted to write this story for quite a time now. But didn't know how. I don't where to bring this story but I've already planned some big parts of the story. Also god help me for finding a good Latin name whenever I introduce a new character.