Hello there and welcome back to the story. I apologise again for what happened with the last chapter. Turns out copy-pasting from Windows to a Fanfiction story file is asking for trouble. Anyway, without further ado, let's jump straight in!
Sadera, Saderan Empire, 685th year of the Imperial Calendar, 1950 A.D.
In spite of the dire news from Alnus Hill, the Imperial capital city of Sadera remained filled with life and activity despite the threat of attack by the Otherworlders from beyond the Gate. News of the defeat of the Saderan Imperial Army spread quickly, and uncertainty began to grow amongst its citizens as to what to expect next. It's inhabitants feared for the lives of those within their walls and wondered what horrors the Otherworlders would unleash next. Some feared that their beloved capital would be reduced to ruins. Nevertheless, the inhabitants of the city went about their lives as normal.
In the Imperial Senate, however, things were a different story. After learning of the defeat of the Saderan Empire's Imperial Navy and Army in the Southern Ocean and at Alnus Hill respectively, the Senate erupted into furious debate over whether to retaliate against the Otherworlders or not, with some advocating for war and others for peace. Currently speaking was Senator Marquis Garcel, a tall man with graying hair, and a strong personality with a loud voice.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," said Garcel, addressing the Emperor of the Saderan Empire, Molt Sol Augustus, who sat on his throne opposite of the gathered senators, flanked by guards.
"But if our fleets cannot stop the Otherworlders then what hope do you think our people have? What chance does our army, which has suffered so much already, stand against such forces? We have already lost a sixth of our Empire's total fighting strength! How do you intend to lead the Empire in the face of such unprecedented disaster?" He continued.
The Emperor, who had been listening intently to all the commotion, replied quietly. "Senator Garcel, I share your concerns. I too spend sleepless nights in fear of the fate of our Empire. And yet, in each time of crisis in our long history, the Emperor, the Senate and the people of the Empire stood together as one. Just like in the Arctic War 250 years ago. I trust that you, esteemed senators won't spend your days playing at court while the danger of the capital coming under siege is a very real threat."
"But it only took them a single day to destroy our expeditionary force and the Legion we sent to reinforce them! The Otherworlders are fortifying the Gate as we speak!" Senator Godasen spoke up. He was an elderly man with thinning white hair, whose face was wrinkled with age and concern. He was the general put in charge of leading Imperial forces in defence of the Gate. Only he and a couple of his guards survived the battle and managed to flee. His face and limbs were bandaged, attesting to that fact.
"PA! PA! PA!" Their weapons made that noise from the distance while they annihilated our soldiers! I've never seen such powerful magic. It's as if they cast fire itself!" He continued.
"Silence, you old fool!" A voice boomed. General Podawan, general of the Imperial Army's Wyvern Corps, spoke up. He was a muscular, bald man with brown skin and black eyes.
"We shall fight! Our vassals must give us what we demand! We will make a new army using their soldiers!" He shouted.
"Damn warmonger!" Another senator shouted. "You'll only get more of our soldiers killed!"
"So you're just going to meekly submit to the tyranny of the Otherworlders?" A third senator spoke up. At that point, all semblance of order in the Senate broke down. The senators were shouting and screaming insults and the occasional threat at one another. Some even rose up from their seats and it almost came to blows between the two sides of the arguement. In the midst of it all, the Emperor raised his hand, silencing everything in an instant. His expression remaining stoic and calm, he spoke softly as he rose from his throne.
"We cannot remain idle at this point. We have no choice but to fight. Send riders as far and wide as their horses can carry them into our vassal kingdoms! Tell them that we need their help in repelling these invaders and that we need them now! Have all of the vassal kingdoms rally to us! It's time to retake Alnus Hill!" the Emperor declared to much cheering from the Senators. Marquis Garcel, however quietly stepped closer to the Emperor. He looked into his eyes as he grimly said:
"Your Majesty, I fear Alnus will become the site of another massacre..."
The Emperor could barely suppress a chuckle.
A few weeks later...
King Duran of Elbe sat on his horse, overlooking the plains that lay before him, looking northwards across the vast plain. He could make out the camp of the Vassal Kingdoms' United Armies near Alnus Hill. He was a middle-aged man with long brown hair and beard of the same colour. One of his eyes had an armored eyepatch covering it. A rider came up next to him.
"My lord, we've spotted what appears to be enemy scouts two hills to the east." He gave the rider a curt nod and ordered:
"Let them be! I must hurry to the gathering of the kings."
He said before he rode off the slope he was standing on and joined with the rest of his army heading towards the camp. By the time the sun was setting his army had joined up with the armies of the other vassal kingdoms in their camp, swelling their number up to a hundred thousand men. They set up their tents and started cooking dinner. Much of the armies of the vassal kingdoms were equipped and trained in the style of the Saderan Legions, but there were other armies using their native weaponry and armor as well, with different mercenary groups also brought along.
King Duran himself was in a large tent in the middle of the vassal kingdoms' camp, alongside him were the different kings and dukes of the Empire's vassal kingdoms sat around a table with the map of the hill laid out on it. As the leaders exchanged pleasantries and chatted amongst themselves, Duran watched the map and waited patiently for the meeting to begin. His attention was drawn away when an Imperial messenger entered the tent and knelt in front of the assembled kings and dukes.
"Majesties," the messenger stated, "I will be relaying my liege's orders to you." Duran nodded slightly before asking:
"Why isn't the commander of the Imperial Army the one coming here to give them to us?"
"I'm afraid that I bring you distressing news in that regard, my lord. We are in the middle of an offensive on the hill right now. It's impossible for the commander to leave his post." He answered.
"That doesn't make any sense... On the way here my observes have only seen a modest number of enemy troops on the hill, digging holes." Duran replied.
"Come now, Sir Duran, the Imperial Army is holding the enemy at bay for us!" said Duke Ligu, the yound Duke of the League Principality, and an old friend of King Duran. He was about to answer when the Imperial messenger spoke up.
"Do not worry, Sires. This is simply a distraction, a temporary measure that we hope will buy you enough time to prepare for the attack on the hill tomorrow." Duran sighed lightly and nodded in agreement before he returned his gaze to the map once again. There was still something bothering him about this whole situation. Something wasn't adding up and he couldn't place it.
"Very well, then my army will spearhead the assault tomorrow." declared the man to Duran's right, the king of Alguna.
"No! Let my troops take the lead!" Objected a grey-bearded nobleman who had a scar across his right eye, the king of Muldwan. From that point on, the conversation devolved into arguing with each other over who should lead the attack and have the glory of planting their flag atop Alnus Hill first. Only King Duran remained silent throughout the entire exchange. As soon as the arguments died down, the messenger simply stated before he left:
"Tomorrow morning, Alnus Hill. We will be waiting for you."
As the assembled kings, dukes and other nobles discussed how to fight a most glorious battle, Duran remained seated with Ligu. "For shame... it should have been our time to shine..." Ligu remarked. His army was tasked to lead "only" the second wave of their assault on the hill.
"The enemy army numbers ten thousand troops at most. We outnumber them ten to one, not counting the Imperial Army. I don't think being the first in battle will be very distinguished." Duran answered.
"Where else would the glory be if not at the forefront?" Ligu asked.
Duran shook his head and turned to him. "We've never faced off against such a foe... I don't like the look of this battle..."
Ligu could only laugh at that.
"Even Lord Duran, the Lion of Elbe can't keep the ravages of time from catching up with him!"
The next morning...
By the time the sun rose up, the vassal kingdoms' armies had formed their lines for battle. The armies of Alguna and Mudwan formed up to lead the attack, followed closely by Ligu's forces. At the command of their kings, the armies advanced towards the hill with a thunderous war cry. Their shouts echoed through the valley below, as did the clanging and ringing of their weapons and shields. Duran had just put his armor on and exited his tent to lead his own army against the Otherworlders on the hill when a messenger ran up to him and knelt before him.
"Your Majesty, it's the other kingdoms. They have departed to assault Alnus Hill. Lord Ligu is set to join them as well." the man dressed in Elbean armor said.
"And the Imperial Army?" asked Duran.
"My lord... there's not a single Imperial soldier in sight."
Duran's eyes widened in shock and horror, he immediately mounted his horse and galloped toward the battlefield, followed by his horsemen.
Meanwhile, the advancing armies reached the base of the hill, where they came upon signs written both in Saderan and German.
"This is a restricted area. Entry beyond this point is prohibited."
The sign read. The troops promptly ignored the warnings and marched on, some even trampled over the signs. Unbeknownst to them, German officers were watching them from their entrenched positions and command posts at the top of the hill through their binoculars. They transmitted the attackers' positions via radio to artillery commanders at various locations around the hill, whose G.W. Tiger self-propelled guns, mortars and . 251/1-II 'Stuka zu Fuss' half-tracked rocket artillery had their sights trained upon the signs from the moment they were set up, just days prior. The same signs their enemy was marching through.
At once, the order to fire was given and all hell broke loose. For the armies of Alguna, Mudwan and the League, their only warning was the sound of muffled thuds from the distance, followed by an eerie whistling sound as the shells landed in the middle of their formations. The shells and rockets the Germans were firing were designed to eliminate much looser formations of squads and platoons, unlike the tight formations of the vassal kingdoms' cohorts, shield walls and cavalry wedge formations, resulting in each detonation claiming the lives of hundreds of soldiers instantly. Those who were unfortunate enough to be standing at just the right distance from an explosion screamed as shrapnel tore throught their flesh and claimed fingers, arms and legs, their armor torn apart like their skin. A single volley was all it took to destroy the vassal kingdoms' spearhead, claiming the lives of ten thousand people, including the kings of Alguna and Mudwan, as well as Duke Ligu of the League Principality.
Duran watched the erupting fireballs, the white streaks of smoke arching down from the hill and great plumes of earth with horror from an adjacent hilltop, flanked by his horsemen, who had their hands full with keeping their terrified mounts under control.
"Impossible... is the hill erupting around us?" asked Duran in disbelief.
By the time the dust had cleared and Duran and his men managed to get close enough to see what actually was going on, their jaws dropped in shock.
The ground beneath the hill was littered with craters, and the broken bodies of men and horses were strewn all around. There were only a handful of grievously wounded survivors, some writhing on the ground in agony, some tried to keep their own innards inside with bloody hands that missed a finger here and there as their guts spilled out from torn bellies, one unfortunate was stumbling back towards them, both arms torn off at his shoulders, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream as his broken body went into shock.
"What is this sorcery? What is happening?" Duran muttered.
His thoughts were interrupted as one of his younger knights was overwhelmed by the sight and the smell and threw up into his hands.
"Where's the Algunian king? Where's the king of Mudwan? Where the hell is Ligu?!"
Duran exclaimed in desperation as he looked over the battlefield, unable to find the bodies of his fellow kings.
Later that day, after regrouping, the vassal kingdoms attempted an all-out attack on the hill, supported by their wyvern riders, with similar results as the wyverns were easy prey to German anti-air weapons. Their soldiers barely made it halfway up the hill before they were forced to retreat under the Germans' concentrated artillery fire, backed up by entrenched tanks and infantry. By the time the sun was beginning to set, fifty thousand of the hundred thousand strong allied army lay dead around the hill.
The remaining kings gathered in the tent they had done so the previous day, with half of the chairs remaining depressingly empty this time. The only "success" their armies had that day was that they managed to find and bring back Duke Ligu's broken helmet. The soldier who had handed it to King Duran looked at him with empty eyes and said nothing as he did so before walking off.
"We've brought over one hundred thousand of our own troops, and half of them are already gone! How can this be happening?!" asked one of the surviving kings in despair.
"Just what is his Imperial Majesty's Army doing and why aren't they here?" another added in.
"No, even the Imperial Army is no match for this opponent... falling back is the only thing we can do now." Said a third, looking around him in hopelessness.
"Retreat is not an option." Duran insisted. "For the realm, we must continue this battle. This cannot end until we crush our enemy and take vengeance for everything that has happened to us thus far!"
"Lord Duran, we have neither the means nor the manpower to continue such a fight."
"Perhaps a night raid will suffice..." Duran suggested quietly, his eyes still locked onto the map that was spread out before them. "The new moon is tonight. If we take advantage of the dark and surprise our foes..."
The plan was agreed upon, and by the time night had fallen the army was ready to march. The troops quietly marched towards the hill. It was going better than many of them expected, they have made it halfway up the hill, before German infantry and tanks spotted them using infrared sights. They alerted their comrades via radio, and the troops who were previously resting had hurried to their trenches, foxholes and vehicles while some of those manning their mortars prepared flares for their weapons.
Soon, the order for three mortar pieces to fire was given. They fired illumination shells containing white phosphorous. When the shells were just five hundred meters from the ground, they opened, exposing the white phosphor inside them to the cool night air, which set it alight. It burned with a bright light, like miniature suns, while their slow descent was ensured by the parachutes they were attached to. The only thing the advancing soldiers of the vassal kingdoms noticed was that, three bright orbs of light had suddenly appeared above their heads, blinding them momentarily and scaring their horses. The soldiers looked up at the flares in a mixture of awe, fear and confusion. "Where is that coming from?!" Duran shouted. His mind began racing as the answer occurred to him: the accursed Otherworlders had somehow seen them in the dark and used their magic to illuminate the sky, leaving them without the cover of darkness. They didn't have much time before they would be targeted by their explosion magic.
"No!" he shouted as he spurred his horse on, charging past his stunned soldiers.
"All troops forward! Keep moving!" Follow me! Forward!" Duran shouted as he rode alongside his horsemen. As they neared the top of the hill, the flares continued to glow above their heads, and his worries were confirmed when a volley of shells tore through their formation.
"Move! Keep going!" Duran shouted over the screams of his men.
"Follow me!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. He charged onwards atop his horse, with the other soldiers following behind him, desperately trying to keep up with his pace. Duran's horse crested a hill, when Duran saw that some sort of fence was in front of him. Thin metal wires were stretched out between wooden poles. Before he could stop his horse, it ran straight into it and came to an abrupt halt as the spikes on the wires dug into it's flesh, causing him to fly off his horse and land hard on his back, landing in the dirt. His heavy armor made it impossible for him to stand back up.
"My lord! We're coming to help you!" cried out one of his men who managed to reach the barbed wires. It took a couple minutes for his soldiers to get through the barbed wire and help Duran up to his feet while forming a shield wall around him. Before he could order another charge, the German entrenched infantry just a couple hundred meters away opened fire on them. The shield wall barely held for seconds, as the bullets penetrated shield, armor and flesh with equal ease. As his army was getting decimated around him while trying to make the last couple hundred meters to close in on the Germans, Duran could feel his blood starting to pump furiously in his veins. He walked a couple steps forward and picked up a bow and arrow dropped by one of his dead soldiers. He notched the arrow to the bow's string, and pulled it taut.
"Bastards!" he bellowed before letting loose, hoping to kill at least one of the Otherworlders. He watched the arrow as it landed somewhere among the German trenches.
Then, the reality of it all dawned on him. All of his years, all of his experience in war were taken and broken apart in just a day. He felt his heart sink into his stomach, his mind becoming blank and his breathing ragged. He had used everything he has been taught to overcome this enemy, but it was all for naught. He realized that his life was rendered meaningless in the face of such overwhelming power.
"How?" he whimpered in disbelief as he stared at the muzzle flashes of the Otherworlders' weapons.
"What did we do to deserve this?!"
He laughed as he heard the familiar whistling sound, he saw a blinding light and felt a searing heat all over his body, then everything went black.
The next morning, Ernst Gebhard and other German soldiers were sent out to patrol the battlefield of the previous day and try to find any wounded enemies that might still be alive and were worth trying to save, though he doubted that anyone would have been able to survive yesterday's meatgrinder. Some of the craters were still smoking and carrion birds were picking at the remains of the corpses strewn around the site of battle. He came upon a smaller crater, where he noticed a broken bow, which he picked up in contemplation.
"Did you read the report? Intel estimates that they've lost sixty thousand yesterday." asked Karl, who accompanied him.
"Add that to the sixty thousand they've lost in Berlin and what, forty thousand in Hamburg? That's like an entire city." said Gebhard.
"Are you worried?" asked Karl as he looked at the other soldier curiously.
"A hundred and sixty thousand people? Why did they send so many? Just what kind of country are we fighting?" He asked as he tossed the bow aside.
Later that day, Ernst reported in to his superior, Major Immanuel Kühn, at the tent that housed the Battalion's Headquarters.
"At ease, Lieutenant." the Major said as Ernst stepped up to his desk and saluted him.
"Reporting as ordered, sir," Ernst replied respectfully.
"Let's get straight to the point, Lieutenant. As you're already aware, we know very little about this new world we've entered."
"Yes, sir."
"With this in mind, we need intelligence in order to decide our next course of action." said Major Immanuel seriously.
"Investigating local political structures, religious faiths and predominant industries have highest priority." he continued.
"So, a survey." Ernst replied. "Best of luck to the poor sod who'll be tasked with that."
"Congratulations, you poor sod, you're tasked with that." Major Immanuel stated flatly.
"What?" Ernst asked confused.
"Your assignment is to travel around the region and gather information. Any questions?" Major Immanuel asked.
"By myself, sir? Are you sure you want me to go alone?" Ernst asked.
"Of course not. We've already organised six deep reconnaisance and surveillance teams, and you Lieutenant will be in command of one of them. Your orders are to make contact with the inhabitants of the disputed areas, and unless you get turned into a pin cushion, try to form friendly relations with these people. Understood?"
"Sir," Ernst replied solemnly as he saluted again and exited the tent. He couldn't believe how he got himself assigned to this task.
'Decided to walk the distance to the last tram station on that day and here I am sent into the thick of it.' He thought to himself. 'God certainly has a way with humor.'
Aaand done for this chapter. See you in the next one where we'll see what the Kaiser's fleet and his marines are up to. Take care and see ya.