Venetian Red, Volume 10

 

Chapter 91 Chaotic Embrace

Back at Zion's base in Novosibirsk, the transfer pod touched down. As Zion dismounted, Wraith approached, a smug grin on his face. “What do you think of my plan?” he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Pity about the world leaders, but plenty of high-ranking officials are gone. And now look! Shangri-La and the Sea Nation are having a lovers’ quarrel. Very dramatic. Very convenient.”.”

Zion blinked, still processing the recent events—Jozen’s assassination of Pramansha and the resulting conflict between Shangri-La and the rest of the Crescent Alliance. “You planned all of this?”

““Well, ‘planned’ is a strong word. More like… whispered suggestions into the wind, watching them blossom into storms. With a sledgehammer. And a few well-placed explosions. Now, let's capitalize on this beautiful chaos."Wraith replied, unwavering. “Now we strike while they’re divided.”

Trickster chimed in, his eyes gleaming. “The die is cast.”

The implications were clear. With Shangri-La’s departure, the Crescent Alliance’s cohesion had shattered. The timing was perfect.

At the head of the table, Zion considered the situation. Trickster’s words echoed in his mind: Strike now. The opportunity was undeniable, but the scale of what they were about to undertake sent a chill down his spine.

Juggernaut’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Sir, our grip on the gladiator factions is absolute. The revolution has brought us even more support. Minor factions are flocking to our banner. We’re estimating troop numbers between 12.5 and 16 million in North America, ready for deployment.”

Zion raised an eyebrow, a mix of astonishment and apprehension tightening his gut. “That’s… significant.” The sheer size of their force was staggering. But will it be enough? The prospect of the coming war was daunting.

Kassandra leaned in, her brow furrowed. “We have to consider the True Horde,” she warned. “Alam commands roughly 3.5 million troops. The Crescent Alliance, even without Shangri-La, still has about 6.5 million. It’s a precarious balance.”

The room fell silent. Zion considered the numbers. The Red Nation and its allies held a temporary advantage, but the war was far from over. Any misstep could tip the scales.

After a moment, Weaver spoke, his voice steady. “We need to strike while the iron is hot. Our supplies won’t last if we don’t move soon. The Emerald League is the weakest link. We need their resources.”

Zion nodded. “Surprise is key. A swift, aggressive attack on their supply lines and key infrastructure. That’s how we break them.”

His advisors exchanged nods of agreement.

“Alright,” Zion said, his voice firm. “Prepare for the attack. Speed is essential.”

As his advisors dispersed, Wraith lingered, a knowing look on his face. “Zion,i had a spicy suggestion.”

Zion raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Wraith leaned forward. “We should hit the Emerald League. They’re the softest target, bloated with wealth and blind to the rot within. They think their neutrality makes them untouchable—like a merchant believing his gold protects him from the plague. They sell their souls to every bidder, believing profit is the highest virtue.”

He then gestured towards a monitor displaying captured True Horde soldiers, mostly green recruits huddled in trenches along the Xinjiang border. “Alam’s tied up there. These boys aren’t exactly Rommel. They’re sitting ducks if we tried a full invasion.”

Wraith leaned back in his chair. “The beauty of it is, Shangri-La’s in chaos after their leader’s… unfortunate demise. They’re ripe for manipulation. Greed is their guiding principle. We offer them a chance to loot the Emerald League, and they’ll bite. It’s in their nature. We pull our forces back from Xinjiang, redirect them south, and let Shangri-La soften the Emerald League from the north. Then we move in for the kill.”

Zion considered this. “I agree. But Shangri-La without a leader… they’re a wild card.”

Kassandra interjected, her brow furrowed. “Exactly. Unpredictable. Relying on them is a risk.”

“Oh, please, woman, just shut up” Wraith scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I practically lived with those monks for years. I know what makes them tick. They're like cats. You give them a laser pointer – in this case, the Emerald League – and they'll chase it without fail.” Kassandra snorted, a mix of amusement and annoyance on her face.

Zion’s surprise shifted to curiosity. “You’re that confident, Wraith? Elaborate.”

Wraith leaned back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “They’re always looking for a good fight, especially one they can win easily. Without their leader, they’re like a pack of stray dogs without a master. Just needs a little… encouragement. We point them at the Emerald League, and they’ll do the rest. It’s like outsourcing our dirty work, only with more chanting.”

The audacity of the plan was clear: manipulating Shangri-La to attack the Emerald League could be a game-changer. It was a gamble, but a potentially rewarding one.

Juggernaut boomed, “Let me lead the charge! My sentinels will tear through their lines!”

Zion hesitated. Juggernaut’s enthusiasm was infectious, but sending his elite troops unsupported was risky.

“The Emerald League relies heavily on mercenaries,” Kassandra added, thoughtfully. “Most of them are… flexible. We could buy their loyalty. It’d be expensive, but cheaper than a full-scale assault.”

 

Zion sat in silence, contemplating the strategy. Mercenaries were notoriously fickle, loyal only to gold and silver. If they could sway their loyalties, it could tip the scales.

 

Trickster broke the silence. “Well, if we give the mercenaries a heavy blow, their morale will drop. They’re not known for their loyalty, after all.”

 

Zion nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. “A decisive blow to their morale could work. Once we break their spirit, they’ll be easy to defeat. We can use their forces to bolster our own and face the Shangri-La without too much burden.”

 

Juggernaut’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “So will my sentinels see action then?”

 

Zion smiled, realizing this was a perfect opportunity for the sentinels to prove themselves. “Yes, your sentinels will be part of this operation. With their superior armor and weaponry, they can help break the enemy lines and wreak havoc among the mercenaries.”

 

Kassandra studied the map, shaking her head. Our current deployment looks like a toddler with a red crayon on map. We’re stretched from North America, across Manchuria, Mongolia, Siberia… and then we jut straight down into Afghanistan. We haven’t even secured China or India, and now we’re adding Persia to the mix? It’s a geographic disaster.

“Wait,” Kassandra interjected, her brows knitting together. “Are we planning to go after Shangri-La after we hit the Emerald League? We’re still in a stalemate with the True Horde!”

 

Zion sighed, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. “I’m not sure what our next move will be after the Emerald League. We’ll need to assess the battlefield and decide based on what unfolds. If Shangri-La is still unengaged, it might be a good opportunity to strike. If they’re already in battle, we may have to deal with them first.”

 

Standing at the gate, Zion surveyed the impressive sight of his heavy-armored infantry and exo-suited soldiers disembarking from their base in Novosibirsk.

 

They were like bulked-up stormtroopers, but with better aim and fewer laser pointers. The leg implants and powered armor let them wield heavy weapons – gatling guns, light cannons – like toys.

 

Pride swelled within him; his army was finally ready to engage the rival forces.

 

As his generals raised their hands in salute, the red general cleared his throat. “We’ll see why Juggernaut is the Khan of the Blood Khaganate!”

 

Zion nodded, a smile spreading across his face. This was their moment to shine, a trial by fire that would prove their strength. He knew Juggernaut and his warriors would make their ancestors proud in the battles to come.

 

At the Academy, the repairs were nearly finished, but the atmosphere was far from celebratory. Students from Shangri-La and the Free World, mirroring their home nations’ politics, had already been recalled. Now, as news of the Red Nation’s mobilization reached the Academy, even more students were being pulled back.

but the destruction had faded, leaving behind a scene of restoration of academy building, as workers bustled about, transforming the battered institution back to its former glory.

 

Yu parked her tank near the pet house, the turret almost brushing the roof. “Well, at least someone’s happy around here,” she muttered, glancing at the rabbits., her spirits lifted by the sight of the animals. After feeding the rabbits, she felt a wave of contentment wash over her. The rabbits, with their soft coats and twitching noses, seemed to appreciate her company, and she smiled at the thought of them munching happily on their greens. Just then, Hazel approached, her face lighting up with a grin.

 

“Looks like you have some new friends,” Hazel teased, gesturing to the rabbits.

 

“Do you know what type of rabbit this is?” Yu asked, finding joy in sharing her knowledge.

 

“It’s a cotton-tail rabbit,” she explained. “They’re soft, have large ears, and are popular pets. Very intelligent, too! They can learn tricks easily.”

 

Hazel raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “Really? But why have I never seen a rabbit in the circus? Hehe.”

 

Yu chuckled, her laughter ringing like a bell. “True, cotton-tails are popular, but they’re not trained for performances. They’re just too gentle and friendly for that kind of life.”

 

Hazel nodded, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Hmm… to think they have a whole range of animals here. They even have a kangaroo!”

 

“That’s right!” Yu agreed, her own excitement bubbling over. “It’s impressive how the Academy manages to have such a variety. A kangaroo is quite the rare find!”

 

Hazel’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Can we ride the kangaroo? I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be a pouch.”

 

Yu paused, picturing the exhilarating sensation of bouncing through fields atop a kangaroo. “Absolutely! That would be such a fun adventure! Riding a kangaroo would feel like a roller-coaster ride—just imagine the wind in your hair!”

 

Hazel leaned closer to the kangaroo's cage, a playful grin on her face. “I wonder what kangaroo tastes like… do they like dog meat or sheep?”

 

Yu laughed at the outrageous thought. “I think kangaroos mostly eat herbs and vegetables. But some do munch on bugs and small animals, so I guess it's possible they might take a liking to meat—though dog meat and sheep meat is pushing it!”

 

The light-hearted banter continued until the scene shifted to the distant tundra, where Bora led a group of elite monk warriors against the formidable Red Army. The air was crisp, alive with the scent of pine and the tension of an impending confrontation. Bora stood poised, her striking brown eyes scanning the horizon, a picture of calm amidst the brewing storm.

 

In the midst of this tense standoff, a familiar voice crackled through her earpiece, breaking the silence. “Hey, so… will you be heading back to your nation after this little ‘Shangri-Lauwu land’ adventure?” Alam’s tone was light-hearted, but the undercurrent of seriousness was unmistakable.

 

Bora sighed, her focus unwavering from the tactical map spread before her. “It’s complicated,” she replied, her voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty. “I can’t give you a simple answer. There’s a lot to consider.”

 

“Hmm…” Alam mused, sensing her hesitation. “You’re the only force keeping the Red Army’s supply lines disrupted. If you withdraw, they’ll gain the upper hand.”

 

Bora furrowed her brow, weighing his words. “I know the risks. I’m committed to keeping those supply lines disrupted. Even after the Crescent Alliance’s operation is over, I’ll stay here. We can’t let them regroup.”

 

“Thank you,” Alam replied, his tone firm. “After my truce with the Red Army, I’ll come to get you. Together, we’ll split them in half.”

 

A hint of relief washed over Bora. “I’ll do my best to keep the pressure on until then,” she affirmed, determination lacing her voice.

 

“Very well… thanks. By the way, you’re beautiful, you know?” Alam’s playful compliment caught her off guard.

 

Bora’s cheeks flushed a light pink, and she quickly glanced away, a shy smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, thank you! But let’s focus on the mission and not get distracted,” she stammered, trying to regain her composure.

 

“Alright, got it. Gott bless,” Alam replied, the warmth of his voice lingering in her ears.

 

As she ended the call, Bora couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering from the exchange. With a deep breath, she returned her focus to the tactical map, feeling the weight of her responsibilities mixed with the thrill of camaraderie and connection amidst the looming conflict in the heart of the tundra.

Chapter 92 Scramble for War

 

“A few days later, the Emerald League’s mercenary leader stood before the council, his expression grave. ‘The Free World armies are advancing to the south,’ he announced, the weight of the potential invasion palpable. ‘We must recruit more mercenaries and militias to counter this threat.’

The council fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. council member, broke the tension. ‘We cannot afford to underestimate this invasion. Hiring additional forces is not just necessary; it’s imperative for our survival.’

Another councilor, skeptical, replied, ‘But at what cost? Our resources are already stretched thin. Is it worth risking our economy for a fight that may not come?’

‘If we do nothing, we risk losing everything,’ council member countered firmly. ‘We must act decisively to protect our way of life.’

 

the council member who in past supporting red nation turn silent. kaveh and his son nigel is just observe and wait their turn.

 

In the final moments of the discussion, the merc leader proposed something bold: appointing seasoned mercenaries as generals for a newly formed Emerald League army. His gaze shifted to Hazel, a skilled and experienced warrior who had proven herself time and again.

 

“he’s an excellent choice,” he argued. “Her knowledge of warfare and strategy will be invaluable.”

 

The council members exchanged glances, voices split between those advocating for surrender and those calling for a fight. After a tense vote, the decision to resist was made—narrowly. Hazel and her ally Nigel would join the defense army, a move that filled the air with tension. A major defeat would spell disaster for the council’s integrity and their country.

 

Later that day, Hazel found Nigel at the palace. “So, you’re a child of one of the council members, huh?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

 

Nigel blinked, surprised. “Yeah, but I’ve never mentioned it before.”

 

“Why not? Don’t you want special treatment?” Hazel prodded, a grin spreading across her face.

 

“Just a bit,” he admitted with a laugh. “But I prefer to keep a low profile. I don’t want anyone treating me differently just because of my family.”

 

Hazel chuckled, eyeing his striking white hair and red eyes. “Well, it’s hard to forget someone who looks like you!”

 

Nigel shrugged, a playful smirk on his lips. “Yeah, I guess so. But I want people to treat me normally.”

 

“Speaking of normal, your childhood friend Nara is in my unit,” Hazel said, her tone light.

 

“Oh, Nara! She’s like a sister to me,” Nigel said, warmth flooding his expression. “I’m really glad she’s in the same unit.”

 

Hazel raised an eyebrow. “Sister? Nothing more?”

 

Nigel laughed softly, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks. The truth was, he did feel something deeper for Nara, but admitting it was another matter entirely. “Well, we’re really close.”

 

“Take care of yourself,” Hazel said, giving his shoulder a friendly tap before turning to leave. Nigel watched her go, a mix of embarrassment and determination swirling within him. He needed to prepare for the upcoming mission.

 

After their conversation, Hazel and her team set off for the Emerald League's black market in the port city by the Caspian Sea, searching for military vehicles essential for their next mission. The vehicle would provide mobility for combat against the Free World army.

 

“I know this port well from my days with the Flying Dragons of Shanghai,” Hazel said confidently. “Tetsuya, have you found anything good yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Tetsuya replied, scanning the area. “Most vehicles are outdated or unsuitable for our needs. We still have some time to look, though.”

 

“Nothing can compare to our Strider or Buffalo tanks,” Hazel mused. “They’re basically the best in the world.”

 

“True,” Tetsuya agreed. “Both are top-tier, so it’s normal we’re not finding anything that matches them. They have superior armor and mobility, but they require a lot of maintenance.”

 

“I’m thinking about technicals,” Hazel suggested. “It’s impossible to find anything as armored as our tanks.”

 

“Technicals could work,” Tetsuya said, considering. “They’re fast and agile, easy to maintain, but they lack the armor of a Strider or Buffalo. It depends on the mission. If we need speed and mobility, they’re a great choice.”

 

“Right, and we have to be mindful of our budget,” Hazel said with a smirk. “A thousand technicals are better than twelve rusty tanks, right?”

 

“Exactly,” Tetsuya chuckled. “We’ll need to find a good deal and consider maintenance costs too.”

 

“Good. You’re good with machines. You’ll be the one to do the shopping for us, Captain Tetsuya.”

 

Tetsuya smiled, feeling the weight of the task settle on his shoulders. “I’ll make sure we find the right vehicles.”

 

As their jeeps rumbled deeper into the port city, the opulence was so jarring it almost caused whiplash. It was like someone had taken Las Vegas, Dubai, and a botanical garden, thrown them into a blender, and then poured the resulting smoothie onto the Caspian Sea.

Palm trees lined wide boulevards, and even the sewer grates—made of some kind of transparent material—revealed purified rainwater flowing beneath, feeding into public sprinklers. The buildings themselves were architectural marvels, each topped with intricate, vent-like structures that seemed to regulate the internal temperature.

“Lucky bastards,” one merc muttered, his rough Khaganate accent thick. “We built our posts with mud and dung, and they get this? War’s been good to them.”

“They’re smart about it,” another replied from the back of the jeep. “Diplomacy, lip service… it goes a long way in this dying world.”

This was the Emerald League’s doing. Promoters of ecology, trusted by the RE Filter program after the nuclear fallout from the Emp Collapse, they’d leveraged donations and access from NWC members and smaller nations. Ecology was good business, especially when you could use it as a front for more… lucrative ventures.

The shift was palpable. The wide boulevards gave way to narrow, grimy alleys choked with vendors. Lost tech, drugs, even slaves were openly traded. The black market thrummed with a dangerous energy. The team’s hands tightened on their weapons.

Hazel found herself alone on a deserted side street. A man in a black jacket and fedora materialized from the shadows, drawing a pistol and firing a volley of shots into the air. “I’m mafia! I’m sigma!” he yelled, striking a pose. trying to rob hazel, Clearly an amateur.

hazel unimpressed. her hand is holding nara who like going to beat up the hat man.

“hold up. mafioso..im hazel.. from flying dragon”

The man blinked, his bravado instantly evaporating. “w-what?,, how?  i thought you all dead..”

hazel then sigh “yeah.. but im not.. just show me the lair”

the man contemplate for awhile  then stright up himself “alright.. follow me”

Hazel led the group to a casino-like building, where the guards recognized her and let them pass without question. Inside, the ambiance transformed into one of opulence, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. They ascended to the top floor, where luxury reigned and wealth was flaunted.

 

There, Hazel approached a chubby old man in a white suit. With a dismissive wave, he sent the women surrounding him away, their expressions a mix of indignation and disappointment.

 

“I know what you’re after,” Hazel said, cutting to the chase. “I need a loan for the war effort.”

 

The old man smiled, his laughter echoing in the lavish room. “Ah, I see. I’m willing to lend you the money, but there are conditions.”

 

“I figured as much,” Hazel replied, crossing her arms. “After the war, you expect a full return with interest.”

 

“Exactly,” he said smoothly. “But there’s more. You must agree to follow my orders during the war, effectively becoming my pawn.”

 

Hazel sighed, recognizing the gravity of the situation. “If we lose this war, there won’t be an Emerald League left.”

 

“True,” he nodded, his expression serious. “But if you win, the Emerald League will survive, and you’ll regain power. A win for you is a win for me.”

 

“Sounds like you’re not just giving a loan but making a donation as well,” Hazel quipped.

 

“Precisely,” he replied, eyes glinting. “I’ll provide a loan with fair interest, plus a donation to support your war efforts. It’s a sizeable amount to help you secure better weapons and technology. What do you say?”

 

Hazel spat in her hand, a gesture of solidarity and determination. “I’m ready for the brotherhood… once more.”

 

The old man mirrored her action, sealing the deal with a firm handshake. The understanding between them was clear: he would provide the necessary funds to support her cause, and in return, she would follow his lead in the unfolding conflict. The stakes were high, a thrill of anticipation coursing through both of them as they prepared for the challenges ahead.

Nara, standing a short distance away, watched with a furrowed brow as Hazel engaged in a seemingly serious conversation with the chubby old man. Curiosity battled with caution, leaving her rooted in place. The two were completely absorbed in their discussion, oblivious to her presence.

Finally, the deal was struck. Hazel, her attention now focused on the acquisition of a cannon for their technicals, turned to the task at hand. Patrick, ever the stoic scribe, meticulously recorded every transaction, his pen a blur as he kept track of the rapidly growing sum.

As they passed through the bustling slave market, a wave of bitter memories washed over Nara. She recalled her time in the arena, the forced encounters with fellow slaves, each one a desperate struggle for survival. The sight of their beaten bodies, the despair etched on their faces, tugged at her heart. How could anyone inflict such cruelty upon another human being?

Hazel, with a determined look on her face, decided to purchase some of the slaves, intending to use them as workers and engineers. Among her purchases were dolls—lifelike humanoid figures that could replace people for various tasks. Nara felt a chill run down her spine at the sight of these dolls; they were too eerily similar to humans, and the thought of them being reprogrammed for labor felt unsettling. It was an unusual and disquieting scene, one that left her feeling conflicted.

 

“Patrick, is that…?” he murmured as he noticed some familiar faces among the slaves. They were former comrades from the Red Army, men he had fought alongside in the harsh winter war. Now, they were reduced to this unfortunate state—a bitter reminder that fortune had not smiled upon everyone. The memories of their shared struggles felt bittersweet, a fleeting happiness overshadowed by their current plight.

 

Once the shopping was complete, the group returned to the parking lot. There, they spotted Yu cradling a small puppy in her arms. Hazel approached, a curious smile on her face. “Who’s the owner of that little guy, Yu?”

 

With a gentle smile, Yu stroked the puppy’s soft fur. “He’s an orphan. No one has claimed him, so I’m taking care of him for now. Isn’t he just the cutest?”

A small spark of light in this encroaching darkness

 

Hazel chuckled. “Heh…”

 

Tetsuya chimed in, “Well, he could become our mascot! Have you named him yet?”

 

The team shared a laugh at Tetsuya’s suggestion. Yu shook her head, her eyes sparkling with affection for the puppy. “I haven’t thought of a name yet. Any suggestions?”

 

Hazel raised an eyebrow, glancing at the others. “Hmmm… Any ideas?”

 

The group fell silent, each member deep in thought. They didn’t want to offend Yu by suggesting a silly name for her adorable new companion. The little puppy followed Yu closely, his big eyes full of innocence and curiosity.

 

“Come on, people! We’re wasting time,” Hazel finally said, breaking the quiet. “Let’s think about it on the road.”

 

Nods of agreement followed, and the team decided to table the naming discussion for now. With a shared sense of camaraderie, they headed off, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, the little puppy trailing happily behind them.

 

Chapter 93 Birth of serpent

 

Later, atop the repurposed freighter Hai Long (Sea Dragon boat), its hull repainted in vibrant crimson and gold, the wedding party bobbed gently amidst the skeletal remains of drowned Beijing. The half-submerged Forbidden City, its once-majestic vermilion walls now stained with algae and barnacles, formed a haunting backdrop to the joyous occasion.

It was a day of celebration—Baihu and Alam were officially tying the knot!

 

The nikah was underway, performed by the Imam, his voice amplified by a salvaged comms unit, with their soldier and general witnesses present. Alam presented Baihu with a ceremonial katana and a hefty 10 kg of gold as her mahr. The Imam delivered the khutbah, invoking Allah, the Most Merciful.

 

Then came Baihu's tradition: a shower of rice! As grains flew into the air, Alam looked bewildered.

 

“What is this?” he asked, scratching his head.

 

“Spread your arms, dear! Catch the rice! It’s a symbol of luck!” Baihu exclaimed, gleefully trying to catch as many grains as she could.

 

“Oh!” Alam replied, grabbing a broom and sweeping the deck, collecting the rice like a pro.

 

“Hahaha! You rascal!” Baihu laughed at his antics.

 

After the feast, as the sun began to set, the deck was quiet, with only a few guests lingering. The newlyweds leaned against the rail, soaking in the moment.

 

Baihu sighed, “We did it, huh?”

 

Alam took a sip of his drink, nodding. “Yeah…”

 

Baihu leaned her head on Alam’s chest, a content smile on her face.

 

“Hmm. Do all women like being submissive?” Alam asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

 

Baihu burst into laughter. “No, you silly! Some women are strong and independent, while others like a man to take charge. What do you prefer?”

 

“I like women who are true to themselves,” Alam replied, a grin spreading across his face.

“Good answer!” Baihu said, her eyes sparkling. “Now, let’s enjoy our luck and love!”

Luck. Love. Words that seemed to echo hollowly in the strategic briefings flashing across the screens in Zion’s command center. The maps displayed not hearts and flowers, but troop deployments, potential casualties, and the cold, hard logic of war.

On July 28, 2405, the Red Nation's vanguard advanced toward the Emerald League border, tension thick in the air like the humidity before a storm. Meanwhile, the Shangri-La army was amassing in Balochistan, though their intentions remained shrouded in mystery. Would they support the Emerald League against the Red Nation, or would they join the fray to further complicate the conflict?

On the Emerald League side, chaos reigned. The newly formed royal army was anything but united, with each general pushing their own strategies, creating a cacophony of confusion.

Zion, observing the unfolding situation, remarked, “The emerald league is on the move, and their vanguard is nearing our border. With the Shangri-La army gathering as well, the upcoming battle will be unpredictable. Our divisions and disorganization are a boon for them.” He paused, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “It’s time to give Juggernaut the green light. They’ve trained for years, and now they must prove their worth as the Khan of the Blood Khaganate.”

Kassandra leaned forward, her voice a mix of eagerness and concern. “Do we finally give Juggernaut the go-ahead?”

Zion nodded decisively. “Yes, let them proceed with the mission. It’s time for action.”

 

then the new reformed red army is massing their force on afghanistan, their main bulk is stop punching the crescent alliance and true horde in china, red nation territory in eurasia is resemble letter “n”, from frozen tip of bering strait to mountainous region of afghan.

 

Then next day in on one of emerald league barrack, Major Hazel was on the comms with Nigel, her voice crackling through the static. “Hey! Remember me?”

Nigel turned, a smile breaking across his face. “Of course! no one will ever forget your  face. How are you doing?”

“Good,” Hazel replied, though her tone turned serious. “But the division within our army is concerning. We need to fight together.”

“Absolutely. Our alliance is crucial,” Nigel agreed, determination shining in his eyes. “Together, we can overcome these challenges and protect the people we care about.”

Hazel extended her hand, and Nigel grasped it firmly. Their handshake solidified their resolve as allies, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As Hazel inspected their base, Patrick diligently recorded transactions, while Nara executed her duties nearby. Yu, however, was preoccupied, cradling a puppy in her arms, completely absorbed in the tiny creature’s cuteness.

“Hey, Tetsuya!” Hazel called out, her tone shifting to business. “What’s the status on our new technical pickups?”

Tetsuya, the base commander, responded with a report. “The technicals are fully repaired and ready for action, complete with new weapon attachments. We’re just waiting for the order to deploy.”

The tension in the air was palpable, with everyone acutely aware that the enemy would likely make the first move.

The following day, Nigel sent Hazel a blueprint for a cloaking device. “Check this out,” he said, displaying the intricate design on his computer screen.

Hazel gathered the team around, excitement bubbling in the air. “What do you all think?”

The group studied the blueprint, some eyes sparkling with curiosity. “This could help us hide from enemy detection!” one member exclaimed.

Tetsuya, thinking hard, chimed in, “I’ve seen something like this in the Free World. It’s an old technology, but it could still work for stealth operations.”

Patrick added, “I encountered something similar in Watery Grave City. It was a suit that allowed a person to become invisible, but it consumed a lot of energy.”

Nara, lost in thought, struggled to recall a memory that danced just out of reach.

Hazel nodded, considering the implications. “Since it requires so much energy, we should use it on our Buffalo tanks instead of individuals. It’s more effective that way.”

The team agreed, and Hazel concluded, “Alright, let’s prioritize putting cloaking devices on our five Buffalo tanks.”

Suddenly, Hazel shifted gears. “By the way, we used to be called the Bastard Division. Let’s rename ourselves the Serpent Division!”

A mixture of groans and laughter erupted. “Serpent Division? Really?” Tetsuya asked, raising an eyebrow. “Couldn’t we have gone with something less… reptilian?” “Hey,”

Hazel shrugged. “It could be worse. We could be the Snail Division.”

, but then the conversation turned to their new mascot. “So, what about our puppy?” Hazel asked, eyeing Yu, who still cradled the little dog.

Yu looked shy, having not yet named the pup. The team fell silent, searching for a suitable name. An awkward pause stretched on as everyone glanced around, unsure.

Hazel finally broke the silence. “Since he’s male, how about Gazz?”

The suggestion was met with nods of approval. “Gazz it is!” Hazel declared.

Yu smiled, her agreement evident. “I like it!”

“Alright, dogs—er, serpents!” Hazel rallied, raising her arm. “Let’s get to work!”

With renewed motivation, the team dispersed to their tasks, each member focused on preparing for the upcoming battle.

Later, the day of judgment arrived. The Red Nation invaded the Emerald League without a declaration of war, deploying their latest war machines—the Sentinels. Commanded by the hulking Juggernaut, these heavily armored warriors favored brutal assaults and were armed with devastating anti-tank weaponry. Their morale was high, and they were poised to dominate the battlefield.

The attack was so sudden that the Emerald League's border guards were like speed bumps to a giant bulldozer. Within hours, they reached Mashhad, a quarter of the Emerald League already conquered.

Back at their base, Hazel scrutinized video reports on the Sentinels, sketching their armor designs in a desperate attempt to identify weak points. The Sentinels, impervious to bullets and rockets, had proven nearly invulnerable. These were White Nation tech, after all, top-of-the-line and sold at exorbitant prices, but never with the manufacturing schematics. The White Nation held a tight grip on production, ensuring every nation remained dependent on their factories.

Nara leaned in, her eyes narrowing at the sketches. “I fought someone in an exo-suit once. It was almost like that.”

“Really? How did you defeat them?” Hazel asked, intrigued.

Nara recounted her battle. “The exo-suit was powerful, but I played it smart. I kept my distance, dodging their attacks while looking for a weak spot.” She pointed to the neck area of the Sentinel sketch, emphasizing its vulnerability. “That’s where I focused my strikes.”

“Interesting,” Hazel said, her mind racing. “But why were you fighting them in the first place?”

“Oh, well… Khaganate arena. They actually use those suits to create a spectacle. Unlike the Free World, which often requires blood games, Khagan society lets their fighters into the suits, and they… well, they bang each other. Metaphorically, of course. It’s about testing the suit’s capabilities and the pilot’s skill, not actual… you know.” Nara explained, a slight blush creeping up her neck.

Hazel’s curiosity continued to grow. “Crazy. So, what about EMPs? Are they immune?”

Nara shook her head. “Actually, no. The guy I fought was hit with an EMP, and he couldn’t move at all. That’s our chance to take them down.”

Hazel frowned. “Too bad our EMP munitions are so limited. The White Nation, in their infinite wisdom and bottomless greed, only sells them in small quantities and at astronomical prices. They know it’s the only reliable counter to their tech, so they control the supply to maximize their profits.” The scarcity wasn't just a coincidence; it was a deliberate economic strategy.

Determined, but knowing it was likely futile, Hazel contacted the command center to request EMP munitions. The response was as expected—the already meager stock was completely depleted after the recent border skirmishes. Frustration bubbled to the surface. “Damn it! We need an alternate plan for victory against those exo-suits.”

The Red Nation's vanguard, a well-oiled machine of ruthless precision, pressed their assault against the Emerald League's defenses. Superior numbers, advanced weaponry, and hardened veterans tilted the scales heavily in their favor. They pushed their forces to the limit, poised to shatter the Emerald League's lines and seize vital supplies.

Meanwhile, in the frenetic atmosphere of their cluttered workshop, the Serpent team raced against time to finalize their cloaking technology. This innovation held the potential to shift the tide of battle, but Hazel paced anxiously, the ticking clock a constant reminder of the looming deadline.

Then, a chilling message crackled through the comms: the council had ordered an immediate counter-offensive against the Red Nation. "We're not ready!" Hazel exclaimed, her heart sinking. "The Buffalo tanks aren't even operational!"

The order, however, wasn't born of strategic brilliance, but rather desperation and political maneuvering. News had reached the council of Kaveh's past dealings with the Red Nation – whispers of backroom deals and exchanged favors before the invasion. Now, with the Red Army tearing through their defenses, the other council members saw an opportunity: a desperate, high-risk gamble to prove their resolve and, more importantly, to force Kaveh to publicly demonstrate his loyalty by supporting a swift, decisive action. It was a move born of paranoia and political expediency, not sound military strategy.

Forced into action, Hazel rallied her troops. "All right, Serpent Division! We're attacking with the forty Stride tanks. Move out to Kavir Oasis!" The Oasis was not merely a strategic point; it was a cultural and trade hub of immense importance. They could not afford to lose it.

As they marched towards Kavir Oasis, a palpable tension gripped the air. Hazel barked orders, emphasizing the need to protect their resources. "Use the caves to conceal our supplies," she instructed. "The enemy possesses heavy infantry and can strike from any direction. We cannot afford to lose what we've built!"

The soldiers nodded, determination etched on their faces as they scrambled to secure the supplies in the cave. Every moment counted; they knew their survival depended on it.

Night fell, cloaking the camp in darkness, but peace was nowhere to be found. The sounds of distant clashes reverberated like a drumbeat, keeping everyone on edge. Soldiers stood alert, eyes darting at every rustle in the wind, their hearts racing with anticipation. Sleep was a luxury they could not afford; the tension was suffocating as they braced for an imminent attack.

In the shadows, a sense of camaraderie grew among the weary warriors. They exchanged nervous jokes to lighten the atmosphere, even as the weight of the impending battle bore down on them. “At least we know our supplies are safe… unless the enemy decides to throw a party in the cave!” one soldier quipped, earning a few chuckles despite the gravity of the situation.

Chapter 94 Legendary battle

Their target: the lifeblood of the oasis, the vitrified water aquifer beneath Meymad Village. After the Emp Collapse, the ancient aquifers had been superheated, transforming the water into a dense, mineral-rich liquid – vitrified water. Meymad, a hydro-settlement built around this precious resource, was now the Juggernaut's prize. The siege had begun, a battle not just for land, but for the very essence of survival.

The soldiers fortified their camp, effectively cutting off any access to this precious resource. The war was no longer just a front-line affair; the back lines were under siege too.

 

Hazel, understanding the limitations of brute force against a foe so entrenched, chose a different path. Like a desert fox harrying a lumbering beast, she employed hit-and-run tactics, using the dunes and canyons as her allies. They harassed supply lines and ambushed outposts, inflicting chaos, but the Juggernaut's grip on the oasis remained as stubborn as a mule.

 

“Fire! Fire! Kill! Kill!” Hazel bellowed, as the tanks unleashed a relentless barrage of piercing armor and high-explosive shells. The air filled with the cacophony of explosions, a symphony of chaos that had the soldiers cheering for their determined commander.

 

For ten grueling days, the desert echoed with the sounds of war, the sand turning crimson with the blood of the fallen. Frustrated by the Serpent's elusive tactics, the Juggernaut ordered a brutal push toward Meymand Village, advancing like a monstrous iron tide, confident in their overwhelming numbers. The oasis was on the brink of collapse.

 

As the afternoon sun beat down, a sandstorm loomed on the horizon, a harbinger of chaos. Seizing the moment, Hazel led a daring night raid, using precise targeting data from previous skirmishes. The Serpent division unleashed a devastating barrage, targeting command centers, fuel depots, and their mobile repair bays,  throwing the Sentinels into disarray. Panic spread like wildfire as their formation crumbled.

 

The battlefield was a chaotic and dangerous scene. The ground was torn up by explosions, made it difficult for the Stride tanks to maneuver. Some of these vehicles got stuck, and enemy soldiers started to fight back. A sudden and violent sandstorm reduced visibility to almost zero

 

In the heart of the chaos, Hazel faced the Juggernaut. Using EMP munitions, he lured the enemy commander into a dead-end and launched a thunderous strike, crippling the Juggernaut and forcing the Sentinels to retreat.

 

The next morning, with no enemy soldiers in sight, Hazel emerged from his tank, shouting “Victory!” The survivors cheered, but Nara raised a logical question: “Why don’t we chase them?”

 

Coughing, Hazel replied, “We’re out of ammo, and the terrain is a nightmare for our tanks.” she counted the remaining Stride tanks—only 18 left from the 40 deployed. The losses were staggering,

 

“Instead of chasing the enemy, let’s bury the dead,” Hazel decided. For two days, they collected bodies scattered across the battlefield, while grave robbers took advantage of the chaos. The battle was over, but the war was far from finished.

 

As they stayed at the oasis, news arrived of the Red Army Sentinels regrouping in the Lut Desert Canyon, heading toward Shahr-e-Yazdgerd. The Serpent division faced a serious threat, but hope arrived with Captain Tetsuya and his cloaked Buffalo tanks, ready to bolster their forces.

 

Hazel asked Tetsuya about the cloaked tanks. “They’re fast and have cloaking capabilities,” Tetsuya replied, a grin on his face.

 

With the Sentinels struggling to maneuver in the canyon, Hazel commanded the ambush. The nimble Buffalo tanks emerged from their hiding spots, surprising the enemy and creating chaos in their ranks.

 

The battle raged on, the ruins of Shahr-e-Yazdgerd echoing with the clash of metal and the roar of engines. As the Juggernaut entered the fray, wielding a salvaged Gatling gun, the battlefield descended into complete chaos. The Serpent division now faced a new, powerful enemy, and the stakes had never been higher.

In the afternoon, a brutal stalemate unfolded as the Juggernaut's raw power decimated the Serpent division's technical vehicles, a massive loss that left them reeling. But the Juggernaut's lumbering movements made him a prime target for ambushes. Seizing the moment, Hazel orchestrated a clever counterattack, using the ruins for cover and flanking routes. Both sides suffered heavy losses, the battlefield littered with wreckage and the fallen.

 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a sandstorm rolled in, swirling chaos around the combatants. Both sides took cover, the furious winds and abrasive sand forcing a temporary ceasefire.

 

When the storm finally subsided, the battlefield was a grim tableau of destruction. Over 200 Sentinels and 60 technicals lay broken, while the Juggernaut emerged, scarred but undeterred. He and Hazel exchanged a nod of mutual respect, acknowledging the heavy toll of their conflict.

 

The next morning, both sides remained entrenched, exhausted and demoralized. The Juggernaut bellowed a challenge but hesitated, his confidence shaken. He turned and led his remaining Sentinels away, leaving the battlefield to the ghosts of the fallen.

 

Atop the canyon, a royal officer proclaimed, “We stand among the ghosts of giants, survivors of the storm of steel. The sand remembers every scream, every sacrifice.”

 

Hazel, unimpressed, muttered, “We’re not losing everything,” before retreating to his tank, where he found Yu playing with their puppy, Gazz.

 

Later, as they returned to Kavir Oasis, they passed a graveyard of fallen soldiers, both friend and foe. Looters were already at work, but Hazel and Yu were too drained to intervene. They pressed on, weary but resolute.

 

Suddenly, intel from a drone warned of a Sentinel group trying to intercept them. Hazel ordered his fastest Strider tanks to secure the road ahead. Upon reaching a sandy crossroad, they prepared an ambush, but Hazel had a moment of oversight—he forgot to reload their Strider tanks.

 

In a desperate move, Hazel slammed the engine into overdrive, unleashing a dust storm that enveloped the battlefield. The Sentinels, caught off guard and disoriented, stumbled through the chaos. With limited ammo, Hazel launched a series of targeted attacks, exploiting their confusion.

 

As the ammo ran low, Hazel ordered a retreat. Just then, four Buffalo tanks arrived, charging into the fray. Switching to a Buffalo himself, Hazel led the charge against the Sentinels.

 

Thesand storm retreated, leaving behind a wasteland of twisted metal and shattered dreams. The Juggernaut and the remaining Buffalo tanks stood as silent sentinels amidst the carnage, two titans locked in a weary stalemate.. The nimble Buffalo danced around the Juggernaut's thunderous blows, scoring hits on his armor.

 

The sentinels, being caught off guard and disoriented by the blinding storm, they become confused and disoriented and started to stumble through the sandstorm. The radar becomes useless as it is unable to function properly. With the limited remaining ammo, Hazel then start using pre-calculated coordinates in order to launch a series of targeted attack against the sentinels at the cross road. This was an effective tactics, due to the fact that the sentinels are disorientated and unable to react accordingly.

Now that their ammo has been depleted, Hazel then orders to fall back and regroup with the rest. As they were turning around. Four buffalo tanks had arrived and attacking the sentinels. Hazel then quickly change his tank, as he switched to the buffalo tank. Then strider tank then fall back. The buffalo tanks then continued their attack against sentinels, while the strider tank retreat to regroup.

The sandstorm slowly start disappearing, revealing the aftermath of the battle. The battlefield is now completely transformed, as the wreckage of both friend and enemy now littered the sand, and the smell of burning oil hung heavy in the air, as the dust slowly settle down to the ground. At the heart of the carnage, Buffalo tanks and the Juggernaut now facing each other, the two titan are now facing each other in the dying light of the setting sun.

Buffalo, which is nimble and swift, now has been dancing around the Juggernaut's thunderous blows of his anti tank weapon, the buffalo is now scarring the Iron Khan's armor, which is becoming more and more evident the more the battle goes on. The Juggernaut wields his Gatling gun, now the he is not only firing the debris of the battle, but also is becoming threat on the buffalo's trail too.

One of the buffalo tank is now disabled after the damage on their trail, which caused them being unable to use their cloak ability again since it was pretty much well spend. Hazel then bark his command through the radio to the other buffalo tank crew to aim at the Juggernaut's his neck area. However, the Buffalo crew was met with difficulty in order to penetrate the Juggernaut, as their armor were different than the ordinary sentinels and more agile.

It's 19:15, the sky was already darkened. Both combatants have reached their limits, as the buffalo's engine is sputtering, coughing out plumes of black smoke. The Juggernaut's armor, being pitted and scorched, is barely containing the rage within. At this point, Hazel had to use last tricks up his sleeve in order to win this battle, he then rammed his buffalo tank into the Juggernaut, knocking it off balance. It was a risky maneuver, but it looks like its working right now.

At 19:30, both of the titans are now standing exhausted and bruised, but they are still unbroken from this brutal confrontation. A weary respect now hangs in the air, as the juggernaut raises his gauntlet in a grudging salute, which Hazel mirror the gesture as he aim the turret at sky. The battle now ends in a hard-won understanding forged in the fires of combat, instead of a clear victory or defeat. It was indeed a costly and brutal battle, and both sides have suffered heavy loses.

Chapter 95 Battle of gambit

In the late days of August 2405, the Red Nation launched a blitzkrieg-style offensive, swiftly capturing Khurasan and Golestan in the northeastern reaches of the Emerald League. However, their advance ground to a halt in the Kerman region, where the Royal Motorized Brigade stood as an immovable barrier. Meanwhile, the enigmatic forces of Shangri-laa amassed on the borders of Balochistan, their intentions shrouded in mystery.

 

Hazel, standing amidst the remnants of his division, gazed at the battered tanks and vehicles that had survived the brutal clash with the Juggernaut. her body suit is make her like in oven on because the enviroments.

 

 "We need a repair station here," she muttered. The day dragged on as they awaited a response from the council, the soldiers finding solace in the oasis that offered a brief respite

 

Some engaged in light-hearted activities, playing volleyball or swimming in the cool waters. Yu, ever the playful one, was seen frolicking with her dog, while Patrick wandered the peaks of the valley, seeking solitude and perhaps a moment of clarity.

 

Tetsuya and Nara, on the other hand, found comfort in the familiar embrace of their tanks, their laughter echoing through the air. Others huddled in the shade, their faces grim. contemplating the existential dread of being stranded in a desert with limited Wi-Fi.

 

The oasis was a welcome respite, but it couldn't mask the reality of their situation. They were stranded, waiting for orders, unsure of what the future held.

 

Hazel, with a smirk, turned to Yu. "What do you want, orange hair?" she teased, her tone light despite the weight of recent events.

 

Yu giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I don't have to tell you. You know I'm just here to tease ya," she replied, her playful nature a balm to Hazel's weary soul.

 

As Yu began to massage Hazel's back, her fingers deftly working through the tension, she paused, her curiosity piqued by a Dragoon tattoo etched into her skin. "What's the meaning of this?" she asked, her voice softened by genuine interest.

 

Hazel sighed, memories of her past crashing over her like a wave. “Not everyone can have this tattoo. Only the ruthless and most loyal members of the Flying Dragon get to wear it. We follow our triad ancestors to earn it.”

 

“But,” she added, a hint of regret in her voice, “that’s my past. I want to get rid of this tattoo someday.”

 

Yu, ever the playful spirit, flashed a flirty grin. “Aw, why would you want to ditch such a beautiful tattoo? I bet the ladies love it!”

 

Hazel chuckled, her mood lifting with the banter. “Oh, especially the bad ones.”

 

Yu giggled softly, her teasing a comforting presence in Hazel's life. But then, as Yu’s hand moved lower, Hazel instinctively tried to stop her.

 

“What’s wrong? Flustered by a woman’s touch?” Yu smirked, mischief dancing in her eyes.

 

Hazel felt her cheeks heat up. “No! Just… um…”

 

Yu laughed, clearly enjoying the moment. “I’ve always wondered why you wear that tight bodysuit. Doesn’t it get itchy?”

 

Hazel’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! How do you know I’m a woman?”

 

Yu raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What do you mean? Everyone here knows you’re a woman. You sneak out at night just to take a pee, don’t you?”

 

Hazel’s face turned crimson. “I… I!”

 

Yu burst into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. “Relax! It’s not a big deal. We all have our secrets. Yours just happens to be a little more… colorful.”

 

Hazel couldn’t help but laugh along, the tension easing. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just trying to blend in. It’s not easy being a woman in this world.”

 

“Hey, you’re doing just fine,” Yu reassured her, her tone light. “Besides, that tattoo just adds to your charm. It tells a story, right?”

 

“Yeah, a story I’d rather forget,” Hazel replied, shaking her head with a smile. “But I appreciate the support.”

 

“Anytime! Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We’ve all got our battles to fight,” Yu said, her eyes sparkling with camaraderie.

 

With that, the two shared a moment of understanding, the weight of their pasts momentarily lifted by the warmth of friendship.

As Yu walked away, Hazel overheard two mercenaries talking in hushed tones.

"Heard the Red Nation's pushing hard in the north," one said. "They're not messing around."

"Yeah, and Shangri-laa's moving in from the east," the other replied. "We're caught in the middle of a damn grinder."

Hazel sighed. They weren't wrong. Hazel's gaze turned toward the horizon, lost in thought. The weight of their situation pressed heavily on her shoulders.

“Artist must choose to fight or flee. I made my mind. I will fight because I had no choice,” she declared, her voice steady, echoing the determination that surged within her.

 

Later, at the Zion base in Novosibirsk, Kassandra briefed the team on the current situation. "They've halted in the desert area, but our northern front is making good progress. Their general still uses orthodox methods to fight our sentinels."

 

She paused, her eyes scanning the room. "We can focus on the north, take Mazandaran, and pillage their port city on the Caspian. Then, we can take the ancient city of Tehran."

 

Trickster nodded in agreement. "Destroying their palace would shatter their morale. But their central unit and Shangri-laa in the east are concerning."

 

Zion weighed the options, his mind a whirlwind of strategic possibilities. "By focusing on the north, we can secure Mazandaran's strategic port city and strengthen our logistics. Pillaging Tehran would deal a significant blow to the Emerald League's morale and disrupt their central unit and Shangri-laa forces. But it's risky. These moves will leave our northern front defenseless and may allow Shangri-laa to advance unchecked."

 

As Zion contemplated the delicate balance of their situation, a Wardog broke the silence. "Sir, I have an idea."

 

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the confident soldier. "We need to draw the Shangri-laa forces away from the main battle. We can do this by luring them into a trap. We present a tempting target they can't resist attacking, diverting their attention and allowing us to concentrate on the north."

 

Zion's interest was piqued. "Go on."

 

The Wardog continued, his voice steady and assured. "We create a weakness that Shangri-laa will exploit, then spring a surprise attack to rout their forces. I believe I've found the perfect target—a major logistics supply hub that feeds into the Emerald League's central region. It's crucial for their supply lines, and Shangri-laa won't be able to resist attacking it."

 

Zion's eyes lit up. "A key logistical supply hub... It's perfect. If we can draw them into a trap and destroy that hub, we'll cripple their operations and reduce the threat they pose."

 

The room buzzed with excitement as the plan took shape. The challenge now was to execute it flawlessly, ensuring that Shangri-laa took the bait and fell into their trap.

The Wardog’s grin widened. He could practically hear the clinking of gold and the screams of panicked quartermasters. The logistics hub wasn't just a target; it was a piñata filled with loot and strategic advantage, just waiting to be whacked.

 

It would be a massive blow to the Emerald League's economy and a huge gain for the Red Nation. Shangri-laa's notorious greed made them the perfect pawns in this strategic game.

Zion's mind raced with possibilities. If they could lure Shangri-laa into attacking the hub, it would not only cripple the Emerald League but also give the Red Nation a decisive edge in the war. The weakness was clear: greed. Exploit it, and victory was within reach.

Kassandra's voice cut through Zion's thoughts. "So, we must take care of their motorized brigade quickly. You only have three cards left on the west before our reinforcements in North America arrive—my light tanks, your elite force, or gladiator volunteers."

Zion weighed his options. The elite force, though untested, promised superior combat capabilities. The gladiator volunteers were readily available but less experienced. Time was of the essence, and the stakes were high. He had to make a choice that would tip the scales in their favor.

"We'll deploy the elite force," Zion decided, his voice firm. "Their offensive power is our best shot at a decisive breakthrough before enemy reinforcements arrive."

The elite force moved into position, ready to confront the motorized brigade. This first deployment would be a test of their mettle and a turning point in the campaign.

In Meymand, the central motorized royal army brigade was forced into retreat by the Red Nation's elite force. The Red Nation completed their encirclement over the Kerman region, poised to strike one of the wealthiest provinces—Dasht-e Lut.

Kinara, aware of the impending attack, fortified Dasht-e Lut's defenses. She bolstered air defenses and key checkpoints, preparing for the inevitable assault. Red Nation intelligence hinted at the elite force's target, prompting Kinara to mobilize the Emerald League army and focus on defending vital resources while evacuating civilians.

One day, the sky darkened with Red Nation propaganda pamphlets, emphasizing the inevitability of their victory and offering lavish rewards, arable land, water rights, even cybernetic augmentations – to those who surrendered.. Dissent stirred within the League, but Kinara remained resolute.

Early September 2405 saw a merciless aerial bombardment by Red Nation bombers, reducing entire districts to rubble. The Emerald League's air defenses struggled to respond. By mid-September, ground forces surged into the city, facing fierce resistance from League soldiers and skilled mercenaries. The elite Red Nation units, with their advanced weaponry, caused heavy casualties.

Late September brought the battle to the Green Palace, a symbol of the League's prosperity. Kinara led a desperate last stand, but the odds were insurmountable. The Red Nation's forces quickly overwhelmed the Emerald League's defenses and reached the city center. The final battle for the city took place at the Greenhouse Palace.

Emerald palace guards faced their equals. A gladiator volunteer and a Red Army elite guard fought fiercely in the parks. The battle devolved into close-quarters combat until the Red Army launched an airstrike, reducing the park complex to flames. Countless rare plants were lost to the inferno.

Kinara stood amidst the ruins of the Greenhouse Palace, the city a smoldering ruin. Thousands lay dead. She turned to her remaining guards, their faces grim. "We fought bravely," she said, her voice hoarse. "But it's over." She raised her sword in a final salute. "Long live the Emerald League!" The soldiers echoed her cry, a defiant whisper in the smoke-filled air. Then, they turned and marched south, leaving the Red Nation to claim a pyrrhic victory.

After pillaging the city, the Red Nation left the eastern region to Shangri-laa, who began capturing Emerald League territory from the east. The elite force's advances across the west proceeded as expected, securing several key provinces and the large, wealthy city of Dasht-e Lut. This was a major victory and a crushing blow to the Emerald League's economy.

Meanwhile, Shangri-laa forces moved from Balochistan, advancing through the eastern region towards the elite force. A critical point in the fight was approaching, and a decisive battle was about to unfold.

Chapter 96 Emerald heat

The opulent chamber of the Emerald League Council in Tehran shimmered with the deceptive glow of jade sculptures and tapestries woven with threads of pure gold. It was a gilded cage, beautiful but ultimately confining. The air was thick not only with tension but also with the scent of expensive perfumes and dupa – a testament to their clinging to the comforts of the past as the storm approached.

Reza, a man with dark brown hair with funny mustache, addressed his colleagues. "Esteemed colleagues," he began, "we stand at a precipice. Or perhaps a gently sloping hill leading directly into the Red Nation’s barbecue pit. Resistance, as they say, is like trying to stop a sandstorm with a teaspoon. Futile, messy, and likely to get sand in your tea. Let us not be martyrs in a tragedy already written in very large, very red letters. Pragmatism, my friends, is the new black. Bending the knee isn’t surrendering; it’s… strategic kneeling. We can preserve our prosperity, our way of life – albeit with slightly more red flags – under their iron fist. Think of it as… a hostile takeover, but with better insurance."

 

Nigel, his red eyes blazing with defiance, shot back. "To surrender, Governor, would be tantamount to dishonoring the very legacy of the Emerald League, a monument to the courage and defiance of our forebears. The Red Nation offers not peace, but gilded chains, shackles that will bind us to their insatiable greed. We will not be reduced to mere vassals, drained of our resources and spirit!"

 

A councilor, his voice tinged with doubt, interjected. "But Nigel, are we strong enough? Their war machine is unmatched. Can we truly stand against such might?"

 

Kaveh, his face etched with concern, added, "The capture of our Green Palace is a disaster. That is the nail in our coffin."

 

Nigel, with a dramatic flourish, threw out his hand, silencing the murmuring dissent. "We may not be able to match the Red Nation's military power, but we have something they lack—our spirit. We have the resolve to fight for what we believe in and to stand up against their oppression. We will not bow down to their greed and we will not surrender our freedom. We will resist and we will prevail."

 

He paused, letting his words sink in. "The Emerald Oasis, a natural bastion of our terrains. We possess not only the unwavering loyalty of our mercenaries but the wisdom honed by generations of cunning minds. Let us not underestimate the potency of defiance etched in the blood of a thousand ancestors!"

 

Reza leaned back, a predator savoring his prey's struggle. "Noble sentiments, Nigel, but words cannot stop a storm. Their airship armada blots out the sun, their tanks grind the earth to dust. What will your defiance offer but a swift, bloody end?"

 

Crips, the broker, her voice a low growl, cut in. "Our blades, Governor, may not match their cannons in thunder, but they carry the sting of a desert viper. Our bullets, though few, pierce with the bite of a lioness. We may not face them with an equal array of arms, but they bleed too, and their fear will be our greatest weapon. Look at Hazel and his serpents; they fight like lions! And we can do that too!"

 

The chamber erupted in murmurs, a cacophony of fear and defiance. A young councilor, eyes blazing with newfound resolve, spoke up. "Let the red sands of the Oasis run red with their blood!"

 

The clamor escalated, voices rising in a defiant chorus. Nigel, a grim smile playing on his lips, surveyed the room. "The Emerald League has spoken! We raise the banner of defiance! We steel our hearts, sharpen our blades, and prepare to meet the Red storm head-on! On the emerald dunes, we shall write our own destiny!"

 

The chamber echoed with the thunderous cry: "Emerald League!"

 

The room erupted in shouts of defiance and determination, filling the air with the thunderous cry of "Emerald League!" Nigel stood tall in the midst of the chamber, his conviction unwavering as he surveyed the room with a grim smile. He was heartened by the passion and courage of the councilors, the unity of their message, the resolve in their voices. The Emerald League had spoken and they would not be swayed by fear or intimidation. The banner of defiance was raised and they were ready to face the Red storm head-on.

Tensions simmered in September 2405 as the Red Nation's puppet faction within the Emerald League, led by Governor Reza, tightened its grip on lucrative trade routes and resources. Reza began stockpiling arms from the black market along the Caspian Sea coast in Mazandaran, his intentions as murky as the waters he plied.

 

Mid-September saw Nigel, recognizing the threat Reza posed to the Council's autonomy, initiating secret talks with Crips and Nara. He proposed a daring plan: exploit the mountainous terrain near Alamut Castle to ambush Reza's forces.

 

"Hey, Nigel," Crips began, her voice laced with intrigue. "Do you know what Alamut Castle was in the past?"

 

Nigel thought for a moment, recognizing the name but unable to place its history. "Hmm, I know it's significant, but I can't recall exactly what happened there. Can you refresh my memory, Crips?"

 

Crips grinned, her eyes sparkling with historical knowledge. "It was the birthplace of the assassins—the epic ninjas who killed and spied on important people during the Crusades. They even held out against the Mongol invasion. Go read up on it; it's a pretty neat part of history."

 

Nigel nodded, impressed. "Wow, that's really interesting. I didn't know it was the birthplace of the assassins and that they were involved in the Crusades. And they held against the Mongol invasion, too? That's pretty incredible. I'll have to do some more reading up on it." He smiled at her, grateful for the knowledge transfer.

 

Crips leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Yeah, and now it's our turn to follow in their footsteps against Reza."

 

Nigel's eyes lit up with inspiration. "You're right, Crips. We can use Alamut Castle as a base for our ambush, just like the assassins did against the Crusaders. And just like them, we will stand against oppression and tyranny. We will write our own destiny, just like they did all those years ago."

 

In late September, Crips leveraged her extensive network to gather valuable intelligence on Reza's movements and supply lines. This intelligence was crucial for the success of the plan. Meanwhile, Nara, working closely with Hazel's tanks, began mobilizing her crack team of mercenaries, honing their skills in anticipation of the clash to come. Every detail was carefully evaluated and planned, leaving no room for mistakes or surprises.

 

By October 1st, Nigel, alongside skilled engineers, had worked tirelessly to manipulate the treacherous mountain passes, creating strategically placed landslides and hidden chokepoints that would funnel Reza's forces into the killing zone. The "Emerald Maze" was constructed with precision and cunning, ensuring that no stone was left unturned in the plan.

 

Crips continued to sow misinformation among Reza's soldiers, sowing confusion and eroding morale. Meanwhile, Nara trained her mercenaries in deadly hit-and-run tactics, ensuring maximum damage with minimal exposure.

 

Mid-October saw tensions reach a boiling point as Reza, lured by a fabricated opportunity to secure a valuable artifact, ordered his troops to march through Alamut. The Emerald League forces lay in wait, ready to spring their trap.

 

At dawn, Reza's army, unaware of the danger ahead, entered the Emerald Maze. Nigel unleashed the first strike, triggering controlled landslides that blocked the advance and retreat routes. Chaos erupted as Nara's mercenaries rained down upon the trapped Red soldiers from hidden vantage points, utilizing the narrow passes and steep cliffs to their advantage. Crips' operatives further sowed panic, sabotaging communication and spreading doubt within Reza's ranks.

 

Nigel's strike force cut through the chaos, its warriors carving a path of carnage through the enemy lines. The strike force was led by Nigel himself, his brilliant swordsmanship and strength paving the way for the showdown between him and Governor Reza.

 

"You fools! You have no chance to defeat the next Red Army invasion!" Reza shouted, his voice filled with defiance.

 

Nigel stood his ground, his determination unwavering. "You can threaten us all you want, but we will not back down. The Emerald Nations will not bend to the will of the Red Army. We will not give in to the oppression being waged against us. We will withstand the power of the Red Nation and resist their invasion. The people of the Emerald Nations are strong, and we will not surrender."

 

Reza led a small group of his bodyguards in a desperate attempt to break through the lines, facing fierce resistance from the strike force led by Nigel. But they were no match for Nigel and his warriors. The governor's attempt at escape failed, and his bodyguards fell one by one, facing a wave of furious attacks from the strike force. As the situation spiraled out of control, the governor sought to flee, his chances of escape becoming narrower and narrower.

 

"Alright, if you think I can't fight, then you're wrong, Nigel!" Reza shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

 

The confrontation between Nigel and Governor Reza was a brutal one-on-one duel. The Governor, a strong fighter in his own right, pushed Nigel to his limits, their swords clashing vigorously in a battle of strength and endurance. But in the end, Nigel's superior strategy and tactics proved too much for the Governor to handle, and he was defeated in the clash. Reza's forces, demoralized and leaderless, either surrendered or fled into the unforgiving desert, leaving behind a victory for the Emerald League.

 

As the battle dust settled, Nigel's gaze turned toward the desert at the horizon, lost in thought. The battle was over. The governor was down. The traitor was defeated. But the Red Army was still out there, looming across the horizon.

 

Crips walked up behind him, breaking his reverie. "And so we once again stand united and ready to face the Red Army. To reclaim the Green Palace. Let's go, White Devil!"

 

Nigel smiled, his resolve hardening. "Let's go."

As Nigel returned to their base, two figures emerged from the shadows, long rifles slung over their shoulders. One was a man dressed in what seemed to be a Napoleonic-era uniform, and the other was a woman in a simple vest, a cigarette dangling from her lips.

 

"Hey, white demon," the man called out, his voice laced with familiarity. "Do you still recognize us?"

 

Nigel's eyes widened in surprise. He scanned their faces, trying to place where he had seen them before.

 

"I'm Baker," the man continued, "and this is Sarah. We fought each other back in the academy. Now we're mercs. Nara summoned us. But don't worry, we're not just here for the money. We want to settle some scores with the Red Nation."

 

Nigel was shocked to see them alive, considering the brutal battle they had fought years earlier. He was relieved to hear they were on the same side now.

 

"So, where's the hug, man? You still a cold person?" Baker asked with a grin.

 

Nigel chuckled softly. "Yeah, I've been called a lot of things, but I don't think I've ever been called a 'warm person' before. I'm afraid I'm not the hugging type, Baker."

 

As they walked together, Baker continued, "Well, speaking of devils, do you still consider yourself a rich boy?"

 

Nigel laughed heartily. "Yes, I'm still a rich boy, Baker. And don't you forget it."

 

"Good," Baker said, "because we're damn broke. Maybe you can donate some credits. I need women, drinks, and ammo!"

 

Nigel was taken aback by Baker's brazen request. He stared at the mercenary, trying to gauge if he was serious. Eventually, he responded with a humorous tone. "I'm not just going to give you money, Baker. You're mercenaries, not beggars. If you want money, you can earn it."

 

Baker scoffed. "Yesterday, I took twelve heads of the Red Army without a scope! And Sarah managed some knife kills."

 

Sarah chuckled and grinned. "Indeed. And I'm much better with my knife this time."

 

Nigel chuckled along with them, impressed by their skills. But his admiration was overshadowed by the thought of the Red Army and the destruction they had caused. He knew he had to stay focused and prepare for another confrontation.

 

"Well, if you still feel stingy today, at least let me access the kitchen for loot and food," Baker said. "You can pay us later."

 

Nigel considered the request. "That seems reasonable. You can access the kitchen for loot and food. It'll make things easier for us all. We can discuss payment later, at a more appropriate time."

 

Sarah nodded in agreement, a slight grin on her lips. "That's a fair compromise."

 

As they separated in the base, Baker and Sarah rushed into the cafeteria. Crips approached Nigel, her expression serious.

 

"When you guys were talking, I was scanning their background," Crips said. "They have a bounty on their heads. Baker and Sarah are some of the most wanted outlaws."

 

Nigel raised an eyebrow. "A bounty? You're sure?"

 

"They fight effectively against the Red Nation," Crips confirmed. "Sometimes they resort to drastic measures. In one mission, they sabotaged an entire base. But in some countries, they're known for their atrocities. They even robbed banks."

 

This confirmed Nigel's gut feeling that the two mercenaries weren't exactly selfless. He wondered what ulterior motives they might have for joining the force. Maybe it wasn't just about the payout.

 

"If I were you," Crips continued, "I'd keep them separated from our main forces."

 

Nigel took Crips's suggestion into consideration. He decided to keep them separated while carefully monitoring their actions and behavior.

Chapter 97 Prepare for worst

By September 2405, the Red Nation had encircled the Kerman region. After routing the central motorized royal army brigade at Meymand, they prepared to strike Dasht-e Lut, one of the wealthiest provinces and its capital city. But after pillaging the city, they ceded the eastern region to Shangri-laa, who promptly began seizing Emerald League territory from the east.

The constant threat of conflict weighed heavily on the soldiers. Even hardened veterans were questioning their purpose in what seemed like an endless war. In a makeshift workshop filled with the clang of metal and the sounds of vehicle repairs, the mood was somber. An older Emerald League mercenary tried to offer some words of comfort to his comrades. Then, a frail old man with a white turban spoke, his voice carrying through the din:

"Work for your world according to your position in it. Work for your other world according to the length of your remaining in it. Work for Allah the Exalted according to your need of Him. And work for the fire according to your endurance of it."

The message resonated with the diverse group of mercenaries, despite their varying faiths.

"We may face setbacks," someone added, "but the sign of the real thing is in giving up regard for the work, not in giving up the work."

An Eastern soldier, sharpening his blade, murmured, "Letting go of desires and expectations to reduce suffering and find inner peace."

A man with tanned, dark skin added, "Working without seeking reward… from the Bhagavad Gita: performing one's duties with detachment and equanimity."

Nods and quiet smiles spread through the group.

meanwhile, Nara leaned back against the cool metal of the tank, her eyes half-closed as she took a moment to catch her breath. The chaos of battle had faded into a distant hum, replaced by the rhythmic thumping of her heart and the occasional clank of machinery. Just as she was about to drift off into a well-deserved nap, a familiar voice broke through her moment of peace.

 

“You know… I know you,” Major Yu said, approaching with a smirk. “You and Panji… now it all makes sense. You’re the one who defeated the blackheart and james in the Watery Grave!”

 

Nara blinked, momentarily confused. “Huh? You mean… New York?”

 

Yu nodded, her grin widening. “Correct! I was once the leader of the Rats. I’m Phoenix.”

 

Nara furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall any details. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know… all I remember is we were just… like… destroying random pirates or slavers or something.”

 

Yu rolled her eyes dramatically. “Never mind. You were still a dumbass merc back then, weren’t you?”

 

Nara pouted a bit, crossing her arms defensively. “Hey, watch your tongue!”

 

“Hah! But it’s all gone now. Did you know what happened when Panji wreaked havoc in New York, Nara?” Yu leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

 

“I don’t know…” Nara shook her head, genuinely curious.

 

“Zion’s army came and annexed that place, especially after Tharig was dead,” Yu said, her grin turning sly. “The reason I’m not in the farms is that I don’t have a fetus.”

 

Nara coughed, nearly choking on her own surprise. “Sorry, what?” She blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the statement. “Uh, yeah… the Free Nation is indeed a weird one. When I was in the military and in the arena, they saw us women as objects…”

 

Yu’s expression softened slightly, the humor fading as she recognized the weight of Nara’s words. “Yeah, it’s a tough world out there. But you know what? You’re not just an object anymore. You’re a warrior. You’ve fought hard to earn your place.”

 

Nara smiled, feeling a flicker of pride. “Thanks, I guess. But it’s still frustrating sometimes. I mean, why can’t we just be seen as equals?”

 

“Welcome to the club,” Yu replied, crossing her arms. “In this world, it’s all about proving yourself. You’ve got to show them you’re not just a pretty face with a bat.”

 

Nara chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, I’m definitely not just a pretty face. I’ve got a bat, and I know how to use it!”

 

“Exactly!” Yu laughed, the tension between them easing. “And if anyone tries to underestimate you, just remind them of the time you took down a whole pirate crew. That’ll shut them up.”

 

“Right?” Nara grinned, feeling emboldened. “I’ll just say, ‘Hey, remember that time I single-handedly took out a bunch of pirates? Yeah, don’t mess with me!’”

 

“Now you’re getting it!” Yu clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm infectious. “Let’s show them what we’re made of. Together, we can change the narrative.”

 

Nara nodded, her determination rekindled. “Yeah! Let’s do this. No more being underestimated. We’re warriors, and we’re here to fight!”

 

As they stood together, the sounds of battle resumed in the distance, but for Nara and Yu, the chaos felt a little less daunting. They were not just fighting for survival; they were fighting for recognition, for equality, and for a future where women like them could stand tall and proud, side by side with their comrades.

 

“Alright, let’s get back to it,” Nara said, her spirit soaring. “Time to show the world what we can do!”

By mid-September, the Red Nation had turned its attention to Shangri-laa, routing their army and forcing them to retreat to Balochistan. By late September, Shangri-laa had dug in among the mountains there, holding their ground against the relentless Red Nation advance.

Weeks after the initial Red Nation push, on the Shangri-La side, Light was called back to take command of the battered soldiers and mount a counter-offensive. He sighed, knowing he had no time to rest. The war seemed never-ending. As Light took control of the army, he noted the reports on enemy movements.

Meanwhile, at the Red Nation's base, one of the Wardogs, Wraith, approached Zion with a surprising request.

"Let me fight my old little friends, Shangri-laa," Wraith said, his voice filled with eagerness.

Trickster raised an eyebrow. "You've become talkative now, Wraith."

The other Wardogs were surprised by Wraith's sudden request to face off against the Shangri-laa forces. They turned their attention to Zion, waiting for his approval. Zion was both surprised and delighted by Wraith's request but knew he had to consider the potential consequences of letting him go alone.

 

Meanwhile, on the Shangri-laa side, Light was called back to take command of the battered soldiers and fight back against the Red Nation army. He sighed, knowing he had no time to rest. The war seemed never-ending.

 

As Light took control of the army, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he looked at the time. It was late in the afternoon.

 

Wraith, with his extensive experience in mountain warfare from his time living with the Himalayan monks, was leading a Red Army division through the Balochistan badlands. His high-precision mortars, special troops with jetpacks, and ruthless strategy of slaughtering settlements to discourage resistance made him a formidable opponent.

 

“So,” Wraith began, a predatory gleam in his eye, “about those monks… they owe me. Big time. Remember that time they locked me in that meditation cave with no Wi-Fi for three months? Three months! I almost had to resort to reading. This isn’t about strategy, it’s about revenge. And maybe a little light looting. Mostly revenge, though. Definitely mostly revenge. And that is for contain me on the prisoner without proper internet you fools, then i will make your entire nation go without internet forever!” wraith intertwined his finger when look at destruction of his army.

 

meanwhile A monk scout reported to Light, "Sir, the Red Army division is led by a man named Wraith. His division commands around 30,000 troops and is spearheading towards our territory. Meanwhile, their army group consists of around 200,000 to 300,000 troops still far behind Wraith."

 

Light's eyes widened in surprise. He hadn't expected the Red Nation to still try to attack, but he understood their strategy. They wanted to split his group and make them easier to defeat.

 

"How much time until they arrive?" Light asked.

 

"Their army group is still around Sur Bandar, and their vanguard division is in Pasni. They are separated by over 100 km. They took the road near the shoreline of the Arabian Sea," the scout replied.

 

Light sighed. "It will still take some time for their reinforcements to reach here, but we can't just wait for them either."

 

He pondered how to stop them from reaching his territory. "Does the path they take have any obstacles?"

 

"We can take care of them after they pass Pasni. The valleys and gorges of Balochistan will be our natural stronghold," the scout said.

"I see. That makes sense," Light said, then had an idea. "We should fortify the Balochistan Pass. It’s the ideal chokepoint."

The engineer leaned back, a smirk on his face. “With a small team, we can modify one glider into a wind rider a day. We’re reinforcing the frames with scavenged durasteel and mounting salvaged rocket pods and light autocannons for both anti-air and ground support. Roughly a week to finish them all.”

Light raised an eyebrow, half in disbelief and half in admiration. “One glider a day? Impressive! But what about ammo? Do we have enough for those gliders?”

 

The monk chimed in, “If we go on the counter-offensive, we can scavenge from our pillboxes.”

 

“Great! So we just need to prep the gliders and wait for reinforcements,” Light said, but then his expression shifted. “Wait a minute… what about fuel? Do we have enough to move our troops and those gliders?”

 

“Relax,” the monk replied, waving a hand dismissively. “We’re on home turf. Our troops know the hidden passages for supply runs.”

 

Light sighed in relief. “Good to hear. But what about that Wraith division? When are they going to attack? Do we have time to modify the gliders into anti-air units?”

 

After a long pause, the monk replied, “If I were the Wraith, I’d keep moving until I captured Karachi, then methodically head north through the mountain passes. So, we can assume they’ll attack during the Karachi siege.”

 

Light’s eyes lit up with a sudden idea. “What if we create a small force as a distraction? A lure, if you will?”

 

A grin spread across his face. “We could trick the Wraith into splitting their forces by making them think we’re resisting on the coast. Then, we can use the gliders to attack them. That should reduce their numbers!”

 

“Lure? Absolutely! We can use our most agile units for that,” the monk agreed.

 

“Perfect! So, we prepare the gliders for anti-air while using the warrior monks and partisans as bait. We’ll let the enemy think we’re resisting their advance on the coast, forcing them to split their forces. Sounds good, right?”

 

“Definitely,” the monk confirmed.

 

“Then that’s our plan! We also need to secure our position in the Balochistan pass with the anti-air gliders while using fast ground units for support against ground attacks.” Light felt a bit more at ease but still worried about the plan’s execution.

 

“So, we’re preparing the gliders and setting up the warrior monks and partisans as bait while securing our position from enemy air attacks. Is that everything?”

 

“Yes,” the monk replied.

 

“Alright, we have a plan. Now we just need time and enough supplies to execute it.” Light took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Once we secure our position and set the lure, all we can do is hope it works.”

 

Chapter 98 The Torrent

In the Pamir Mountains, a land of rugged peaks and glacial scars, General Picot of the Yellow Nation knelt before Zion, his fur cloak stark against the snow. “Liar!” he snarled. “You promised me ten cities! You destroyed them!”

Zion met his gaze, unfazed. “I delivered the cities. Their contents… relocated.” He picked up his old fire axe, the steel gleaming in the thin mountain air. “Greedy fool. But thanks for clearing the path for my forces.” With a swift, brutal swing, he beheaded Picot.

The room fell silent as men removed the body. Zion slumped into his chair, exhaustion etched on his face.

Wraith materialized from the shadows. “Chaos is the canvas. I provide the brush. What masterpiece will you paint?”

Zion’s voice was barely a whisper. “What if the masterpiece is destruction?”

“Destruction is creation’s shadow,” Wraith replied. “Every end is a beginning.”

Wraith’s gaze bored into Zion. “You think immortality is a gift? It’s a curse. I’ve seen empires crumble. Wisdom always arrives too late. What will you be, Zion? A god… or a monster?”

A few days later, the Wraith division marched methodically along the seashore, their turrets trained on the mountains as they closed in on Karachi. They razed a couple of settlements, leaving destruction in their wake, while partisans along the coastline hesitated to raid their route. The only significant natural barrier between the Wraiths and Karachi was the Hop River.

 

The sight of the advancing Wraith division sent a knot of anxiety twisting in Light’s gut. He watched through his binoculars as the armored vehicles moved relentlessly “They didn’t fall for the bait,” he muttered, watching the enemy advance. “This isn’t good. Their size and power are overwhelming. I need a new plan—fast.”

 

Suddenly, an idea sparked as he studied the map. “They’re moving forward, but they’ll likely slow down to avoid ambushes. We can use that to our advantage.”

 

The monk chimed in, “We need to focus on building the Karachi defensive line. The Shangri-La Confederacy isn’t united; they still listen to their religious leaders. If we can show the capital we can defend this region, they might send help and unite the confederacy.”

 

Light nodded, a glimmer of hope igniting. “A small victory could rally them. But why haven’t they sent reinforcements yet? Don’t they realize we can’t hold this place much longer?”

 

The monk sighed. “They’ve always had different agendas, alienating their own people due to ancestral heritage.”

 

“So, the Shangri-La Confederacy is split between military and civilian interests?” Light frowned. “That’s not good. It could lead to internal conflict. We need their support, or this could end in disaster.”

 

They set up base north of Karachi, near the Hop River dam, keeping a close watch on the Wraiths along the coastline.

 

“Clever move,” Light remarked, recognizing the strategic advantage. “We can secure the vital river for water supply and slow the Wraiths’ mobility. If they try to cross, they’ll have to split their forces.”

 

But as hours passed, the Wraiths constructed multiple pontoon bridges, preparing to flood their army into Karachi.

 

Light raised an eyebrow as he see wraith bellow them unfazed . “They’re readying for an assault. This is bad. Our plan has only delayed them, and now it feels like we’re heading for a war of attrition.”

 

“What’s our next move?” the monk asked.

 

“I can’t sit idle. We need something to throw them off, something to make them hesitate,” Light replied, desperation creeping into his voice.

 

Later, the monk reported, “Our general has split orders—some are forcing Karachi civilians to join the defense, while others are letting them flee. What’s your command?”

 

Light frowned, his nerves fraying. “There’s no point in forcing civilians into defense. They have no combat experience. We should evacuate them for their safety.”

 

As they monitored the situation, thousands of refugees fled Karachi, transforming the once-bustling city into a ghost town.

 

Light’s heart sank as he watched the monitors. “My God… even the civilians are leaving. This is going to end badly.”

 

Meanwhile, the Wraiths completed their pontoon bridges, setting sentries on both sides of the river.

 

Light’s anxiety spiked. “They’re serious about taking this place. If they launch a full attack, it could spell doom for the Shangri-La Confederation and Karachi.”

 

As the Wraith division began crossing the bridge, the Shangri-La army bombarded it with artillery and missiles, but the Wraiths’ advanced anti-air guns shot down projectiles mid-air.

 

Light watched in despair. “Their anti-air capabilities are formidable. Our artillery is useless against them. If this continues, they’ll reach Karachi in no time.”

 

Then he spotted some monks fishing by the dam, smiling as they passed his tent, seemingly unfazed by the chaos.

 

Light felt a momentary calm wash over him. “How can they be so relaxed?” he wondered.

 

“Do you want to flood them?” the monk asked, breaking his reverie.

 

Light snapped back to reality. “The dam! We can use it to slow them down!” He glanced at the massive hydro-electric arc dam that held back the Hop River, its curved concrete face gleaming in the sun. It was a marvel of pre-Collapse engineering, still functioning despite the ravages of time, worry creeping in. “But what about the civilians? If I flood this place, it could endanger them too. This is a tough decision.”

 

The monk nodded. “We’ll charge at them to force them to dig in. While they’re distracted, we’ll implement the flood attack.”

 

“Alright, that’s the plan. We’ll charge and force them to dig in, then unleash the flood,” Light confirmed, determination hardening in his voice. “But we need to ensure everyone is prepared. Time is running out before the Wraiths reach the city.”

 

“Our monk warriors are ready to die. We have one chance after they finish crossing,” the monk said, steeling himself.

 

Light smiled at the monk’s resolve. “We can’t lose this chance. The Wraiths are almost at Karachi. It’s time to execute our plan!”

 

The monk division set their sights on the bridge, ready to launch their attack.

 

“Do you want to give them a last speech?” the monk asked, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

 

Light paused, considering. “Hmm... yes, if you don’t mind, I’d like to do it over the radio. I want to make it dramatic and inspire them. Is that okay?”

 

“All ears are yours,” the monk replied, nodding.

 

Light pressed the button, activating the radio. “I know the situation seems dire right now, but don’t lose hope!” His voice boomed with conviction. “We will win this battle! We will defend this city no matter what! We will never surrender and fight until our last breath! We will not let the enemy take our home!”

 

“Soldiers! We will give them a fight! We will strike back with everything we’ve got! If they think their overwhelming force is enough to take this city, let us show them they are dead wrong!”

 

Cheers erupted from the soldiers, weapons raised high—spears, machine guns, all gleaming in the fading light.

 

Light felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw their spirits lift. “This is good... now we just have to wait for the signal to attack.” He glanced at the monitor, where the Wraith division was nearing the bridge, almost ready to cross.

 

Some soldiers were praying, others relaxed, and a few played with their weapons, their eyes fixed on the approaching Red Army below.

 

Light noticed their calm demeanor. “They seem relaxed... they must have some mental strength. If they believe they will win, their fighting spirit will be stronger.” He grinned, realizing why these soldiers had never submitted to the Wraiths.

 

But the monk interjected, “No, sir. They’re relaxed because they know this will be a 100% suicidal charge.”

 

Light was momentarily taken aback by the monk’s bluntness. “Wait, what? They’re aware of that?” Then it hit him—this was their belief, their faith. They believed they would be rewarded for their sacrifice.

 

A smirk crept onto Light’s face. “Those soldiers... they see death as part of their duty. It’s understandable.”

 

“Are you ready to see it?” the monk asked, his tone serious.

 

Light nodded, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling within him. “I am... but I have a feeling it won’t be pretty.”

 

He pressed the radio button again. “Soldiers! Prepare for the signal! Stay focused and be ready!”

 

The mountainside fell silent, the only sounds being the wind and the occasional chirp of birds.

 

Light felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. The stillness was unnerving, heightening his nerves. “What am I waiting for?” he muttered to himself.

 

“Sir, what are you waiting for?” the monk prompted, breaking his reverie.

 

Light blinked, startled. “Wait! What? That quickly? I thought we still had time!”

 

His heart raced as he glanced at the monitor. The Wraith division was now only 50 meters from the city—closer than he had anticipated.

 

“Okay, this is it! We need to act now!”

 

“You are the general. Command them to face their death,” the monk urged.

 

Light pressed the radio button again, his voice steady. “Soldiers! Now! Execute the plan! The dam bursts!”

 

“CHARGE!” he yelled, rallying his troops. “Charge!!”

 

The soldiers descended the mountains, some taunting the enemy, others firing their weapons as they ran. Some took cover behind boulders, methodically shooting, while a few charged straight into the fray, ignoring the incoming fire.

 

Light felt a surge of tension as he watched his soldiers rush toward the Wraith position, a literal “Death Charge.” He was filled with worry, knowing he could only watch the outcome unfold.

 

Then, the Wraith army halted their bridge crossing, mounting sentries and digging in. A small group of soldiers managed to reach the Red Army side, engaging in close-quarters combat after their grueling run from the mountains.

 

Light’s heart raced. “They’re actually making progress! They have a chance!” He marveled at their bravery, realizing they deserved medals for their efforts.

 

The monk handed Light the detonator for the explosives planted on the dam. “Now’s the time for the final strike.”

 

Light’s eyes widened as he looked at the dam. “Is it time? Let’s do this!”

 

He pressed the detonator, and the dam exploded, unleashing a massive flood toward the enemy.

 

Wraith soldiers’ eyes widened in shock as they saw the torrent of water descending from the mountains. They hadn’t expected the dam to be blown. The Red Army scattered in all directions, engulfed by the flood, their soldiers and equipment swept away toward the sea.

 

With the flood wave crashing down, the Red Army was pushed back, their momentum shattered. Light couldn’t believe the miracle unfolding before him.

 

But as he watched, he saw the remaining Wraith leadership continue their push toward Karachi, not to capture it, but to destroy it. They began firing at buildings, setting the city ablaze.

 

Light’s heart sank as he saw the flames engulfing Karachi. “This is bad... really bad!”

 

The monk noted, “We wiped out their main army—over 100,000 troops and their equipment drowned. But we have no soldiers left to defend Karachi after our last charge.”

 

Light felt a mix of relief and dread. “We’ve defeated their main force, but the city is doomed. We must prepare to evacuate the citizens...”

 

He paused, realizing the gravity of their situation. “Wait... over 100,000? That’s almost their entire force. They won’t have another major force, right?”

 

“Probably not,” the monk replied with a chuckle. “Who can count that massive number?”

 

Light smiled at the monk’s humor, but then a realization hit him. “Wait... I actually defeated them, didn’t I?”

 

“Half win,” the monk replied. “But Karachi is now defenseless.”

 

“Half win, huh? You’re right... but at least we destroyed their major force. That’s a good thing. But if they destroy the civilians and their buildings... I have to call for an evacuation. We need to move the civilians to safety.”